Tuesday, March 10, 2015

CD Odyssey Disc 715: Paul Simon

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:

Sheila said...

Hey, I liked Molly Hatchet - give me some credit!