Rewrite: Paul Simon’s old works newly considered

Paul Simon / Homeward Bound

Part of Paul Simon’s “Homeward Bound: The Farewell Tour,” which stopped at the Capital One Arena in Washington, D.C., last Friday for a sold-out show, includes the performing of songs from his new album, “In the Blue Light.” On both the album and in concert, Simon has returned to a body of work – specifically 10 of the artist’s favorite, although perhaps, less-familiar songs – to lend new perspectives by adding some new colors and textures, tweaking arrangements and collaborations, in pursuit of an ever-evolving ideal of his own poetic and musical genius.

It added a nice touch to the pacing of Simon’s two-hour show, which also featured a jukebox of familiar favorites, including: “Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover,” “Still Crazy After All These Years,” “Graceland," “Homeward Bound,” and a Johnny Cash-inspired re-imagining of “The Boxer,” book-ended by a couple of Simon and Garfunkel chestnuts, “America” and  “The Sound of Silence.”

In spending a few hours with Rhymin’ Simon, it was like a showcase of the music of my life from a musician I’ve always respected and admired. As I observed all around me, everyone it seemed, was feelin’ groovy.

In the liner notes for “In the Blue Light,” Simon writes about choosing “songs that I thought were almost right, or were odd enough to be overlooked the first time around.” They include: “One’s Man’s Ceiling is Another Man’s Floor”; “Love”; “Can’t Run But”; “How the Heart Approaches What It Yearns”; “Pigs, Sheep and Wolves”; “René and Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After the War”; “The Teacher”; “Darling Lorraine”; “Some Folks’ Lives Roll Easy”; and “Questions For the Angels.”

Simon performed a few of these "rewrites" during the show I saw and shared interesting tales about each while introducing them – a nice touch.

In a promotional video for “In the Blue Light,” Simon reveals that “at the present, you have a chance to fix a mistake you made, especially, when the song you’re playing is 25 years-old or more than that, and comes from the Seventies. That’s interesting. The way I wrote melodies then, I can take the lyrics and clarify what the point of the song is. Maybe, it wasn’t clear. Maybe, I didn’t know what the point of the song was. Sometimes, it takes a long time to figure out. ‘Oh, I see, that’s what I’m talking about.’ Like ‘Magritte.’ It’s an emotional song – it’s evocative – but I really have no idea what it’s about. But I know it produces an emotional feeling. It’s nice. It’s a mystery.”

In her review of “In the Blue Light,” NPR’s Ann Powers notes a commonality among these songs is “a blend of melancholia and late-in-life wisdom spinning. Yet the album’s mood is not heavy. Simon, one suspects, is still less interested in making a sweeping statement than in that little whoop of inspiration, which he finds time and time again by trusting new collaborators to help him rebuild his stories until they gleam and go.” Simon wore that philosophy close to his heart throughout what was a most enjoyable “baby boomer” concert experience.

Paul Simon, Mark Stewart
and yMusic

Simon’s 15-piece band includes a couple of his long-time sidekicks, the multi-talented, mutton-chopped guitarist Mark Stewart and bassist Bakithi Kumalo, as well as the New York-based chamber pop ensemble yMusic. Among the band, there’s an instrumental arsenal and flexibility – a clay drum, a French horn, a button accordion, a piccolo, and a penny whistle – that add to the rich flavor of the sound.

In concert, I found a contemplative mood in the presentation of both Simon’s new and old material that slanted toward jazz and so-called “new music,” growing out of earlier versions of songs from the Graceland and Rhythm of the Saints years, such as “The Boy In the Bubble,” that blended Afro-pop, reggae and salsa back in the early ‘90s, when these albums were released. There were other genres and destinations visited, including Brazilian drumming and Mariachi horns, and the Cajun zydeco on “That Was Your Mother” remained timeless and joyful. A revisited “Questions For the Angels” pondered the significance of human life.

Throughout each of the twenty-six songs that Simon performed and interpreted, he maintained credibility while exuding a certain sense of playfulness by showing some zydeco-style dance steps.

At age 76, Simon still knows how to musically swing. He has always smartly arranged his lyrical compositions – there’s a New York-born poet’s sensibility to his writing  – and his voice can still carry the high notes of timeless tunes like “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”


The pacing of Simon’s show worked by weaving together the different ebbs and flows of his solo career with songs made famous during his collaboration with Art Garfunkel in the Sixties.

Earlier this year, Simon announced an end only to his touring, not from making music or from occasionally performing. Thank goodness for that, as his mind and sense of curiosity remains strong. While he has more hits than the time to play all of them, as one critic suggests, his songwriting continues to treat pop “as a force of inclusion and adaptation, learning constantly from different idioms and discovering where they can overlap or coalesce.”

Photos: Concert photos by Michael Dickens © 2018.

Paul Simon: Still creative after all these years

Paul Simon / Feeling groovy late in the evening.

Paul Simon's 13th solo album, Stranger to Stranger, is just out to critical acclaim, and following two recent weekend concerts at UC-Berkeley's Greek Theater, the 74-year-old singer/songwriter stopped by City Arts & Lectures in San Francisco last week for an insightful conversation with Dave Eggers that was a benefit for the writer's 826 Valencia project.

For over 90 minutes, Simon, whom New Yorker critic Kelefa Sanneh recently labeled as "one of the most accomplished overthinkers in the history of popular music," spoke both thoughtfully and haltingly about a variety of things, including: his new album, a series of songs filled with experiments in rhythm and texture throughout its lithe 37-minute duration; his creative process; his approach to writing music and composing lyrics that paint an imperfect world; and the emotional outpouring from singing "The Boxer" on the same night as Muhammad Ali's death, just moments after learning of The Greatest's passing.

As Simon spoke about the physics of sound – "the tone of the universe is a slightly flat B-flat" – he also strummed a faux air guitar, picking at the melody with his right hand and moving the fingers of his left hand up and down his imaginary fretboard. Later on, he reached for a guitar positioned behind his chair to illustrate a chord progression as he crooned the notes to a song.

On Stranger to Stranger, Simon's collaborators include the Italian electronic producer Clap! Clap! and long-dead composer and inventor Harry Partch, whose variety of homemade instruments contributed to the texture and dreamlike ambience of the album.


https://soundcloud.com/concordmusicgroup/the-werewolf


On "The Werewolf," for instance, Stereogum.com, writes: "Warped banjo, hand claps, and intricate down-home percussion are interjected with peculiar invest bursts. Simon soulfully warns of a werewolf's impending approach with some vivid storytelling and irresistible melodies."

Always a storyteller, Simon shared a funny anecdote about a 2004 Simon and Garfunkel reunion concert that he and his former music partner Art Garfunkel gave on the grounds of the Rome Colosseum. He said that while Garfunkel was singing an extended solo, Simon gazed out at nearby residents listening from their apartment balconies while thinking to himself, "I wonder what an apartment like that would cost?" He also talked about his 1986 ground-breaking album Graceland, and waxed about what it's been like being in the midst of a late-career renaissance.

"He has managed to become neither a wizened oracle nor an oldies act, and his best songs convey the appealing sensation of listening to a guy who is still trying to figure out what he's doing," wrote Sanneh in his New Yorker article, "Cool Papa," published last month.

Paul Simon and Dave Eggers / Old friends.

"Ain't no song like an old song," Simon once wrote, and the New York native has been practicing his craft for the past 50 years, releasing a new album about every three years or so. Although Simon said he doesn't keep up with the latest music trends and hits, he remains an attentive listener with a curious mind, one who always is collecting raw ingredients and rhythms for the future. Writing music, he noted, gets harder.

"But harder is fine. It's not like harder is the opposite of fun."

By night's end, Simon broke out an acoustic guitar and sang "The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feeling Groovy)," which served as a nice bookend. He left to a standing ovation from the mostly Baby Boomer audience at The Nourse.

It all made for a memorable and enjoyable evening.

Photos: By Michael Dickens © 2016.

Graceland at 25: Acclaimed and still influential

Graceland at 25/ Still rightly acclaimed and controversial, too

I read with interest recently the news of the 25th anniversary of Graceland, Paul Simon's groundbreaking album, that will be commemorated with musical and film celebrations this year.

On June 5, Graceland 25th anniversary editions will be released to commemorate the anniversary of the acclaimed and influential 1986 album that continues to inspire generations of music fans. Simon will headline the Hard Rock Calling festival in London July 13-15. A film, Under African Skies, which documents the story of the album and its attendant controversies, screens Wednesday in Toronto.

Peter Aspden, a culture columnist for the Financial Times of London, wrote two weeks ago about how Graceland was rightly acclaimed on its release in 1986. Yet, it was also dogged by political controversy, too.

Paul Simon

You see, in collaborating with a talented group of South African musicians that included the a cappella singing group Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Simon was accused of having broken the cultural boycott against the nation's apartheid regime. As Aspden commented, "it was a mess of an argument and it continues to be so today."

Much of Graceland was recorded in South Africa and it featured many South African groups and musicians. And, while Simon faced accusations that he had broken the cultural boycott that was imposed by the rest of the world against the apartheid regime in South Africa, which at the time was in its final years, it was a view that was not supported by the United Nations Anti-Apartheid Committee. This was because the album featured the talents of black South African musicians while offering no support to the white South African government led by State President P.W. Botha.

As Aspden opined: "No one was in any doubt as to Simon's intentions, which were entirely benign. The album brought a relatively obscure musical tradition to the ears of the world (it sold 14 million copies). The South African musicians on the album went into the project with eyes wide open. 'We used Paul as much as Paul used us,' said the guitarist Ray Phiri, one of Simon's collaborators. This was not an obvious case of cultural exploitation."

According to Aspden, Simon had his detractors. They included Jerry Dammers, who wrote the political anthem "Free Nelson Mandela." While Dammers believed it was wrong for Simon to go South Africa in the 1980s, he said it's in the past. "It's the time not to forgive and forget but to remember and forgive." And, added singer/songwriter Billy Bragg: "He was on the wrong side of the argument despite his good intentions. The cultural boycott was part of the economic boycott that brought South Africa to heel."

In traveling to South Africa when it was not politically correct to do so, Aspden said Simon "found an artistic community that was tired of being ostracized and hungry for the outside world." He created an album devoid of anger. "Not because he didn't find any there but because he believed, in that time and place, in art's power to transcend politics."

Graceland became not only Simon's most commercially successful album ~ it reached No. 3 in the national Billboard charts ~ it also drew praise and accolades for its mixture of African polyrhythms, pop, rock, Zydeco and Tex-Mex as well as the South African Zulu isicathamiya and mbaqanga singing styles. Rolling Stone called it "lovely, daring and accomplished." And, Simon said he considered the title track the best song he's ever written.

"Actually, the achievement of Graceland and what it overcame was not a political thing," Simon told the Toronto Globe and Mail. "It was an artistic bridge that was new at the time. And that was really the achievement. But the other is a juicier story."

To read Peter Aspden's March 23 column:  http://www.ft.com/intl/cms/s/2/bc70acc2-7362-11e1-9014-00144feab49a.html#axzz1qlP2VYu1

Scratch My Back

Comes a time in many a musician's career to record a cover of another artist's music. Whether paying tribute, a throw-away statement (as described by New York Times critic Jon Parales), or to fulfill a lifelong dream, it happens all of the time.

Just do a song search on iTunes for any Beatles song ~ like "Hey Jude" ~ and you'll see what I mean. Dozens of covers are out there in the music stratosphere. Some covers do justice (Norah Jones singing Joni Mitchell's "Court and Spark" on Herbie Hancock's award-winning The Joni Letters comes to mind) and some are just plain painful to listen to (Tony Bennett covering The Beatles' "Something" before his '90s comeback was agonizing).

Along comes Peter Gabriel, a favorite singer/songwriter of mine ~ with one of the most distinctive and recognizable voices on this planet from his own songs like "Sledgehammer" and "Big Time" (described by Parales as ancient-mariner baritone) ~ who has turned recording covers topsy-turvy thanks to his creative and thoughtful muse. His new album, released earlier this month, is called Scratch My Back and its title comes from his interest in interpreting other musician's works ~ and, in return, hopefully having that artist record one of his songs.

On Scratch My Back, Gabriel pays homage to Paul Simon, David Bowie, the Talking Heads, and Neil Young as well as to younger artists like Arcade Fire, The Magnetic Fields, Bon Iver and Regina Spektor. And in doing so, he has stripped away all guitars and drums ~ a self-imposed restriction in the creative process ~ and re-scored 12 songs, adding chamber strings to some, piano to others. Thus far, in this social networking experiment, Simon has returned the favor by recording the Gabriel classic "Biko" and Stephin Merrit of Magnetic Fields has covered "Not One of Us."

One song in particular from Scratch My Back immediately caught my attention from first listen two weeks ago: Gabriel's interpretation of Simon's "The Boy in the Bubble."

A great pop song in its own right, "The Boy in the Bubble" first appeared on Simon's 1986 Graceland album and is very lively and upbeat when performed in concert. In an interview with NPR, Gabriel called "The Boy in the Bubble" one of the "great pop lyrics of the last century."

"It was a slow day,

And the sun was beating

On the soldiers by the side of the road,

There was a bright light,

A shattering of shop windows

The bomb in the baby carriage

Was wired to the radio,

These are the days of miracle and wonder,

This is the long distance call,

The way the camera follows us in slo-mo

The way we look to us all,

The way we look to a distant constellation

That's dying in the corner of the sky,

These are the days of miracle and wonder

And don't cry baby don't cry

Don't cry."

Taking a very upbeat and vibrant song as written and recorded by Simon, Gabriel transformed "The Boy in the Bubble" into a slow and somber ~ almost dirge-like ~ minor-key work with just the barest piano and sparse string accompaniment. It's the tone and shape of Gabriel's voice ~ whispery but full of theatrics ~ that struck a chord with me. I gain something new each time I re-listen to it.

"We sort of sucked out all of the African elements, and you're left with the skeleton, which is an extraordinary thing in itself," said Gabriel in the NPR interview for Weekend Edition Sunday. "And I think a lot of people, myself included, heard the lyrics in a different way, in a new context."

Stripping a song down to its bare melody and lyric ~ desperate and exposed ~ can be a thing of simplicity and beauty. Sometimes empty is better than full.