Occasionally during the past 20 years or so, whenever I hear a Simon & Garfunkel song, I think about the duo’s peculiar place in the music world, particularly on the sixties scene. Most short bios of the pair describe them as a “sixties folk-rock duo” or something similar. Yet when I think of folk-rock, I never think of Simon & Garfunkel.
There was a time when it seemed their place in pop/rock music history was firmly ensconced, and that they were noted among legends. But I don’t know if that’s the case anymore—I think not. Despite their many hits (“The Sounds of Silence,” “I Am A Rock,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Scarborough Fair”), their highly recognizable sound, and the fact that their music is so very representative of American East Coast singer/songwriter sound of the late sixties, they were and are, as a unit, a bit of an anomaly. And as such, I think, they have been a bit overlooked.
Part of the reason, I think, is the tendency of our culture to pigeonhole, label, and compartmentalize. It’s hard to do that when something is unique. I mean, who else sounds like Simon & Garfunkel?
Granted, some—many—of their songs are, with the clarity and hindsight of four decades of living, cringe-inducing. “Baby Driver,” for instance, from the Bridge Over Troubled Water album, is blatantly embarrassing, as is “Keep the Customer Satisfied,” and both should be packed away in mothballs if not permanently laid to rest. Then there are songs like the iconic title track and “The Boxer,” a tune I once considered timeless, but now think of as a cerebral pop song. There’s also the sweetly hummable “America” (from the lofty but lovely Bookends) with its majestic drums and hokey interlude, a song I once thought was important but now see as merely nice, and the corny but catchy “Cecilia,” from Bridge, which now seems naïve and dated.
But what about the others? Where do they fit in the legend? Simon & Garfunkel were commissioned to do the soundtrack for The Graduate, a watershed coming-of-age film and one of the most popular and important mainstream releases of the decade, and their aura is all over the movie. Still, Simon & Garfunkel were not, even then, considered part of the scene—they always seemed outside the realm of hip, too square to be cool, yet too talented to be relegated to a lesser status—to that of, say, the Association.
Still, how can songs like “Scarborough Fair” and “Mrs. Robinson” not be permanently—and prominently—woven into the fabric of sixties music and culture? Have you ever seen a film about sixties culture or music that featured Simon & Garfunkel or their songs in any significant way? Why not?
S&G died, in a way, with the sixties—a decade which, in my opinion, did not end in 1969, but in late 1972 or early 73, with the dawning of glam rock and bubblegum. Of course, Paul Simon rekindled the flame in the mid-70s when he became a folk/pop golden boy in the “sensitive guy” vein—sort of like the Alan Alda of pop. There was a time, from about 73 until 77, when Rhymin’ Simon could do no wrong, and had hit after hit—“Kodachrome,” “Me and Julio,” “Still Crazy After All These Years,” “Loves Me Like A Rock,” “Slip Slidin’ Away.” He became an endearing, respected fixture, indelibly linked, as always, to New York, but this time to the Saturday Night Live/laid-back hip crowd. It was almost as if he’d become a different Simon—this one had a first name, Paul—and he held court in the mainstream music world for a number of years.
The flame smoldered, to be rekindled briefly again by a Simon & Garfunkel Concert for Central Park in 1981, which sold a lot of records and garnered a lot of press, but when the dust settled, served only to confuse people. Simon reinvented himself yet again in the late 80s and early 90s with the monstrously successful (and, in my opinion, musically overblown Graceland).
He was hip again, in a Woody Allen un-cool sort of way, palling around with Chevy Chase, marrying Edie Brickell (who had a successful little run with the New Bohemians), and recording pop nuggets like You Can Call Me Al—a perfect vehicle for the MTV/VH-1 age, for which Simon and Chase did a corny video. By 1990, Simon was a musical old shoe—one with diamonds on its soles. I wonder if he’s still got a few more songs in him.
There was a time when it seemed their place in pop/rock music history was firmly ensconced, and that they were noted among legends. But I don’t know if that’s the case anymore—I think not. Despite their many hits (“The Sounds of Silence,” “I Am A Rock,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Scarborough Fair”), their highly recognizable sound, and the fact that their music is so very representative of American East Coast singer/songwriter sound of the late sixties, they were and are, as a unit, a bit of an anomaly. And as such, I think, they have been a bit overlooked.
Part of the reason, I think, is the tendency of our culture to pigeonhole, label, and compartmentalize. It’s hard to do that when something is unique. I mean, who else sounds like Simon & Garfunkel?
Granted, some—many—of their songs are, with the clarity and hindsight of four decades of living, cringe-inducing. “Baby Driver,” for instance, from the Bridge Over Troubled Water album, is blatantly embarrassing, as is “Keep the Customer Satisfied,” and both should be packed away in mothballs if not permanently laid to rest. Then there are songs like the iconic title track and “The Boxer,” a tune I once considered timeless, but now think of as a cerebral pop song. There’s also the sweetly hummable “America” (from the lofty but lovely Bookends) with its majestic drums and hokey interlude, a song I once thought was important but now see as merely nice, and the corny but catchy “Cecilia,” from Bridge, which now seems naïve and dated.
But what about the others? Where do they fit in the legend? Simon & Garfunkel were commissioned to do the soundtrack for The Graduate, a watershed coming-of-age film and one of the most popular and important mainstream releases of the decade, and their aura is all over the movie. Still, Simon & Garfunkel were not, even then, considered part of the scene—they always seemed outside the realm of hip, too square to be cool, yet too talented to be relegated to a lesser status—to that of, say, the Association.
Still, how can songs like “Scarborough Fair” and “Mrs. Robinson” not be permanently—and prominently—woven into the fabric of sixties music and culture? Have you ever seen a film about sixties culture or music that featured Simon & Garfunkel or their songs in any significant way? Why not?
S&G died, in a way, with the sixties—a decade which, in my opinion, did not end in 1969, but in late 1972 or early 73, with the dawning of glam rock and bubblegum. Of course, Paul Simon rekindled the flame in the mid-70s when he became a folk/pop golden boy in the “sensitive guy” vein—sort of like the Alan Alda of pop. There was a time, from about 73 until 77, when Rhymin’ Simon could do no wrong, and had hit after hit—“Kodachrome,” “Me and Julio,” “Still Crazy After All These Years,” “Loves Me Like A Rock,” “Slip Slidin’ Away.” He became an endearing, respected fixture, indelibly linked, as always, to New York, but this time to the Saturday Night Live/laid-back hip crowd. It was almost as if he’d become a different Simon—this one had a first name, Paul—and he held court in the mainstream music world for a number of years.
The flame smoldered, to be rekindled briefly again by a Simon & Garfunkel Concert for Central Park in 1981, which sold a lot of records and garnered a lot of press, but when the dust settled, served only to confuse people. Simon reinvented himself yet again in the late 80s and early 90s with the monstrously successful (and, in my opinion, musically overblown Graceland).
He was hip again, in a Woody Allen un-cool sort of way, palling around with Chevy Chase, marrying Edie Brickell (who had a successful little run with the New Bohemians), and recording pop nuggets like You Can Call Me Al—a perfect vehicle for the MTV/VH-1 age, for which Simon and Chase did a corny video. By 1990, Simon was a musical old shoe—one with diamonds on its soles. I wonder if he’s still got a few more songs in him.
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1 comment:
PAUL IS WRITING SONGS FOR A NEW
ALBUM RIGHT NOW WHICH HE SAYS WILL
BE MORE LIKE THE SONGS HE WROTE
IN HIS 20'S.
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