🎵 THE CHORD THAT PLEASED THE LORD

(Yes… that one.)

here are only a few lyrics in the world that can make a musician raise an eyebrow, nod approvingly, and mutter:

“Alright, that’s clever.”

One of them is the opening verse of Hallelujah.

The other is “Despacito”, but only because it’s the only Spanish some people can speak.

But back to Cohen.

You know the line:

“It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift…”

For most of the population, that’s just a nice poetic line.

For musicians, it’s a free theory lesson.

For GCSE music students, it’s one of the three facts they remember for their exam.

And for me?

Well, the line used to make me emotional.

Deep.

Reflective.

Connected to something bigger than myself.

Then the X Factor got hold of it and squeezed every ounce of meaning out of it like a stressed mum wringing out a dishcloth. Suddenly we had:

• Over-sung versions

• Under-sung versions

• Panic-at-the-audition versions

• “I know three chords and I’m going to milk every one of them” versions

Hallelujah became less “deep spiritual moment” and more “please vote for me because my nan loves this song”.

But — there is one glorious exception:

The No Resolve version.

A masterpiece.

A redemption arc.

Proof that with the right amount of distortion and testosterone, even the most overused ballad can rise again.

Anyway.

Let’s talk chords.

So… What Chord Was He Talking About?

Here’s the fun part: Cohen wasn’t being metaphorical.

He was being literal.

Like, terrifyingly literal.

Let’s take the song in its most common key: C major.

C is the home base.

The “front door”.

The safe place.

Now let’s follow Cohen’s instructions like he’s the world’s most poetic satnav:

👉 “The fourth”

That’s the IV chord.

In C major?

That’s F major.

👉 “The fifth”

That’s the V chord.

In C major?

That’s G major.

👉 “The minor fall”

That’s the vi chord — the relative minor.

In C?

A minor.

(The musical equivalent of “I’m fine” said through tears.)

👉 “The major lift”

A return back to the IV chord (F) — a raise in mood, harmony, and spiritual energy.

Cohen doesn’t just tell you the chord progression.

He writes it into the melody at the same time.

This is not poetry.

This is not luck.

This is a man showing off.

And yet… not enough to save him from being turned into a Saturday-night sob story package soundtracked by someone who thinks vibrato is a personality trait.

Why This Is Actually Genius

Cohen understood something most pop writers don’t:

Harmony and storytelling are the same thing.

He tells you:

• There is a fall

• There is a lift

• There is tension

• There is release

• There is a moment where everything feels wrong

• And then a moment where everything makes sense again

That’s not just music theory.

That’s philosophy.

That’s religion.

That’s Tuesday morning coffee.

And in the middle of it all, he’s teaching you the basics of Western harmony like a man who said:

“If I'm going to break your heart, I may as well teach you some intervals while I'm at it.”

So… What Went Wrong? (for me)

Nothing with Cohen.

Everything with reality TV.

When the X Factor got hold of Hallelujah, the song became:

• slower

• breathier

• sadder

• somehow both oversung AND under-expressed

• and absolutely dripping with artificial emotional syrup

It became the soundtrack to:

• “I just want to make my parents proud”

• “I’ve wanted this since I was three”

• “I once sang to a cat and it blinked, so clearly I’m destined for fame”

Meanwhile Cohen is somewhere watching all of this whispering:

“There are other songs, you know…”

The Real Beauty: The Harmony Mirrors the Lyric

When he says “minor fall”, the melody actually falls.

When he says “major lift”, the line rises.

Like a musical onomatopoeia.

Or the harmonic equivalent of waving your arms dramatically while telling a story.

He’s not describing the chords —

He’s demonstrating them.

This is:

• smart

• subtle

• brilliant

• and horrifically rare today (unless Ed Sheeran suddenly surprises us all)

And Yet — the Song Survives

Despite overexposure…

Despite TV talent shows…

Despite a thousand “haunting acoustic covers” recorded in a bathroom…

Hallelujah still stands tall.

Because beneath all the noise is genuine craft.

A structure built on:

• perfect tension

• perfect release

• perfect lyric-harmony alignment

• and a man who understood music on a bone-deep level

And if you want to restore your faith in the song?

Go listen to the No Resolve version.

Trust me:

that’s the major lift Cohen meant.