Today I engaged in a little retail therapy. For me, retail therapy usually
means books or music (I like clothes, but I find shopping for them a chore).
Today was music and I came home with a Natalie MacMaster album I’ve been
looking for and a five-disc set of classic Molly Hatchet.
On to what the Odyssey dished up
for me most recently.
Disc 715 is…. Graceland
Artist: Paul
Simon
Year of Release: 1986
What’s up with the Cover? My best guess is
that it depicts Frankenstein’s monster subbing in so Death can take a coffee
break (he’s loaned the monster his scythe and white horse). That’s awful nice
of Frankie to help out – maybe all his various parts felt guilty for coming
back to life and making Death miss quota.
How I Came To Know It: I saw a video for “You Can Call Me Al” back in the eighties
and really liked it. It features Chevy Chase (who at the time was like Paul
Simon – still kind of famous but getting old) lip-synching the song while Paul
Simon sat beside him and tried not to laugh.
Despite
the clever video marketing, I never bought the album – Sheila either owned it
when I met her, or bought it soon thereafter. I liked it a lot more than she’s
going to like my recent Molly Hatchet and Natalie MacMaster purchases.
How It Stacks Up: We have three Paul Simon albums but the other two
are much more recent (2000, 2011). “Graceland” is easily the best of them.
Ordinarily
when I finish my collection of an artist I do a little ratings recap, but given
how few of Paul Simon’s classic albums I have, I’m going to hold off until that
process is more fulsome.
Rating: 5 stars
In 1986 Paul Simon had nothing to prove. He had five
solid solo records under his belt and five more before that with Art Garfunkel.
He’d been making hit records for over twenty years and didn’t have anything to
prove.
I only have two of those previous ten records, and I’m
looking forward to discovering the other eight. Even so, I am skeptical any of
them will be able to top “Graceland.”
The big reveal of “Graceland” – that it is a crossover between Simon’s folk style and
African beats and rhythms – has been written to death. I am not going to dwell
on it all over again, except to say the reputation for this record’s innovation
and exceptional sound is well founded. The combination of South African choral
singing and interesting drum beats adds a whole new layer of depth to Simon’s
music, without ever detracting from the free and easy feel that makes his music
so engaging on its own. Enough said on
that.
This record is more than just a mash up of African
and New York rhythms; it has an insight into the human spirit that is rarely
matched in music. Two songs showcase this from opposite ends of the emotional
spectrum, so if you’ll indulge me…
The first song is the title track, which is so
choked with beautiful imagery it is hard to know where to start. I guess the
opening verse makes the most sense:
“The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil
war.”
Coupled with an easy rolling beat, you can feel the
wheels under you, and you can see the road winding its way through the south.
Yet the song is as much about travelling to Graceland as Moby Dick is about whaling.
This is a song about trying to escape heartache, all the while knowing that you
can’t drive away from sadness. When you hear Simon sing:
“And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow.”
His voice takes on extra hurt, and it is easy to
feel why. If you’ve ever been heartbroken, then you know this is exactly how it
feels. It is raw and painfully public. This line kicks me below the belt every
time I hear “Graceland”, but I keep
coming back because I can’t resist its perfection.
The second song is “I Know What I Know.” It uses its African beats to create a party
atmosphere, which makes sense since the song takes place primarily at a party.
A lame, pretentious one by the sounds of it; I bet Sting was there. Again, the
opening verse is sublime:
“She looked me over
And I guess she thought
I was all right
All right in a sort of a limited way
For an off-night.
She said don’t I know you
From the cinematographer’s party?
I said who am I
To blow against the wind.”
A frank and funny acknowledgment that if your
talented and famous you can punch above your weight when meeting girls at
cocktail parties. And yes, there is the taint of sexism in this song, but it
cuts both ways:
“She said there’s something about
you
That really reminds me of money
She was the kind of girl
Who could say things that
Weren’t that funny.
I said what does that mean
I really remind you of money
She said who am I
To blow against the wind.”
So the cocktail party is superficial but everyone
seems willing to admit it openly, and just grab another drink from the passing
tray. I should mention that I always imagine this party is the kind with those
uniformed waiters walking around with free drinks. Or put another way, the kind
of parties I don’t get invited to. But I digress…
Despite its brilliance, “Graceland” is not without
controversy. To record it, Paul Simon reportedly broke the embargo that was on
South Africa at the time because of their apartheid government. There is an
excellent movie about this called “Under African Skies” that treats this
subject pretty fairly on all sides.
On the one hand, that embargo of apartheid was
damned important – a way the world could express its condemnation of reprehensible
system of segregation. On the other hand, here was Simon showcasing the great
music of the people forced to live under it, and bringing it to the world.
However you feel about it, apartheid is thankfully
gone, and “Graceland” endures; a work of art that shows what kind of beauty is
possible when we bring people together instead of keeping them apart.
Best
tracks: All
tracks, although I particularly love Graceland, I Know What I Know, Diamonds on
the Soles of Her Shoes and All Around the World. All 11 are good though.
1 comment:
Hey, I liked Molly Hatchet - give me some credit!
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