Bringing the magazine to work with me, I use it for reference to find this review on the Rolling Stone's Internet site, so I can link and copy-paste it.The birth of a ladies' man: How Leonard Cohen became the world-weary roue of the hippie age. By Robert Christgau.
Who knows but the shadow why it's not listed anywhere in the table of contents of Issue 1023>>April 5, 2007>>$4.50 issue, but unless I'm overlooking it multiple times, trying to locate it various ways, then it's simply not listed
.So, I'll just type it out myself here and now from page 78. The three album covers are pictured thumbnail size, in a long, verticle, rectangular box on the left. The ratings for the albums [in order from top to bottom of their 'stacking' inside the box] are: The Songs of Leonard Cohen 1968 ~ 4.5*; Songs From a Room 1969 ~ 3*; Songs of Love and Hate 1971 ~ 3.5* . There's another [as opposed to what can be seen of him on the album covers] gorgeous [apparently file] photo of Leonard finger-picking his guitar and singing into the mic. It's labeled "Cohen, circa 1967":
Now... thanking you in advance to whomever, more familiar with navigating the Rolling Stone magazine online, zips right over to it and brings the link immediately hereLeonard Cohen / Sony/Legacy
If you think Leonard Cohen is old now, try to imagine how old he was when he was young. In 1966, folk chanteuse Judy Collins turned the thirty-two-year-old into a hot rumor by recording his poem-set-to-music "Suzanne." Cohen had two novels and four slim volumes of verse on his dossier. He sported suit jackets, short hair and a formidable five o'clock shadow, and he hailed, ooh la la, from Montreal. Now wonder hippies ten years his junior ate up his world-weary roue act.
At the time, no one would have dreamed there was anything lithe or lyrical about Cohen's charcoal monotone. [My/Lizzy's editorial comment here is that I beg to differ on that
So what do Cohen's undoubted craft and canny self-projection add up to? After all, the one great theme of this early work is a romantic melancholy he shares in rough outline with many page poets and countless half-assed singer-songwriters. The secret is simply that Cohen does it better. There isn't a wryer ice-queen kiss-off than the relatively minor "One of Us Cannot Be Wrong," and classics like "So Long, Marianne" and "Famous Blue Raincoat" wrote the book on the doomed twentieth-century bohemian love affiar. Most of his fans will never bed a woman with legs like those of Leonard's ladies (or possess same). [My/Lizzy's editorial comment here is the equivalent of "You got that right... both counts."] But as voyeur fodder goes, this is deep, witty and enduring stuff.
. All I can say is that it was a pleasure rereading the article as I typed 
.~ Lizzy
? Now, that I've answered you directly, I'll go edit my original rendering of this little piece, even if I DON'T agree with the star ratings.
~ my pleasure.
.