Linda Cohen Still Walks the Line Between Folk and Classical

Or, last night a troubadour saved my life.


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Published: Mar 4, 2008

Michael T. Regan

For those in Philly's psych-folk circles, those whose music is laced with delicate, classical guitar lines and dark, distant ambience, your queen is out there.

You guys might not know it. But don't feel bad. Neither does alternative-classical folkie Linda Cohen.

This Philadelphia guitarist and teacher was writing sensual, potent acoustic-guitar-led instrumentals and recording uneasily lilting, eerily atmospheric records when Espers were in diapers. She still records. Naked Under the Moon came out in 1999. And she plays gigs — too few, perhaps, though she's promised to get out more often.

Mention the phrase "freak-folk" and Cohen, 60, admits she's clueless to the notion. "I'll defer to you on that as I'm not very au courant," she says from her post at 20th and Sansom's Classical Guitar Store, where she teaches.

"I never thought of what I did as folk or classical." In Philly's late '60s and early '70s, she was part of a free scene of open-minded radio stations and record labels. While avant-garde stalwarts Charles Cohen (Theremin, oscillator), Jefferson Cain (sitar, autoharp), Mandrake Memorial's Craig Anderton (production, Celeste) and Michael Kac (harpsichord) played on her albums, photographer Doug Randall, graphic designer Milton Glaser and manager David Carroll were behind the scenes making her cover art and booking her gigs. "What got signed; what was on the FM dial; it was a golden age, free, open and all over the place."

Cohen started as a drummer in her Hunting Park-area elementary school. Her first gig was when she was 16 and a neighborhood polka band got her to play a Ukrainian Day fête. She began jazz lessons shortly after, only to wind up backing Stewkie Antoni in the band Elizabeth (before he fronted The Nazz). But like any good actor who wants to direct, this drummer wanted to compose.

"My father took me to Zapf's in Olney and bought me my first guitar — this unusual 'Martin' 1955 classical for $125, that I love dearly, still play daily and teach with today," says Cohen in her low voice.

She studied with Marshall Friedland, a "dazzling guitarist and banjoist whose good looks and personal attention — plus the fact that he was several years older — were strong motivating factors," she laughs. "I was smitten." She moved on to the Settlement Music School, where Peter Colona, a student of Segovia, trained her classically.

Next thing you know, she's playing and writing a hybrid of classic-folk-blues and funky neoclassical — one that led her to play Philly's folkiest room, The Second Fret, at age 18, opening for Dave Van Ronk. "I was to play that gig with my then-boyfriend. Problem was, he freaked on me and left me holding the bag. Before we went on, Dave saw I was a mess. I gave him a recap, told him I knew several of his pieces and, the sweetheart that he was, went on with me and did a couple of them."

And? "I never looked back."

By age 22, she'd been introduced to Poppy/United Artists label head Kevin Eggers, who not only released records by Townes Van Zandt but with his next label, Tomato, introduced the world to Philip Glass.

Originally Cohen was going to make her records for Eggers solo, like her demos. But Buchla synth-innovator Charles Cohen suggested getting their mutual pal Anderton to produce a version of these songs with his band, Anomoli. Their looming, arbitrary backgrounds made sense behind the plinking, ricocheting richness of Linda Cohen's compositions on Leda and Lake of Light (1972 and '73, respectively). "I didn't know what the hell it was. But I never wrote music that was light and breezy."

She didn't go it alone until the steel-string infused Angel Alley (Tomato, 1982). When I call it bareback, she laughs. "I love that. I was confident enough in the first place to play alone. It just wound up cool and avant-garde to have those guys on my first records."

She went on to play the Electric Factory, Artemis and the Academy of Music opening for Gordon Lightfoot. She also plucked before Stephane Grappelli at NYC's Bitter End and in Pittsburgh for Procol Harum. But she wasn't a strong self-promoter and instead earned her bread, butter and awards teaching at Zapf's and the Classical Guitar Store ("I'm flattered when I'm thought of as a great teacher") and rare gigs around town.

Until now. "I will be happier to play out more as my audience's loyal and I'd like an opportunity to broaden it," says Cohen. "All the classical musicians always referred to me as 'the folkie,' while my folk and rocker friends called me 'Classical Linda.'"

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)