Paul Simon - I never get sick of the guy.
He’s an amazing, understated songwriter, a great singer and secretly a mean fingerpicking guitarist. And except for the fact that he’s hugely famous, he seems a lot like your lovable next door neighbor - kind of lonely; probably had serious, meaning-of-life conversations with his mother on Sunday night well into his 40s; occasionally says things like “jeez!” in frustration and then feels awkward about it. What’s not to love. He’s a do-gooder and probably a Mets fan (I have no evidence of this).
Somewhere in the early 80’s, though, right around the time he married his on-again off-again sweetie Carrie Fischer (aka Princess Leia), Paul Simon went momentarily bat-shit crazy. Thankfully, he documented it on his fifth solo album, Hearts and Bones. If you mainly know one of Simon’s greatest hits albums, you will be familiar with the title song, a fantastic (if somewhat overcooked) ballad and a bit of a precursor to “Graceland.” You may also know “Rene and Georgette Magruitte With Their Dog After The War” or “Train In The Distance.”
What most people don’t know is that otherwise, Hearts and Bones is really, really strange. It is as close as Simon ever got to disco, with several songs featuring Chic’s Nile Rodgers. And lyrically, it’s the most cerebral of his career - no small feat. This is the kind of record with two separate and awesome songs called “Think Too Much (b)” and “Think Too Much (a)” respectively.
The first version on the record, “(b)”, sounds a bit like the Little Mermaid theme on tranquilizers. It has backing vocals that sometimes sound like an imitation of a sad, dying goat. The song is an acquired taste but I like it. And it opens with one of those classic, wry Simon lines: “The smartest people in the world gathered in Los Angeles / To analyze our lover affair / and finally unscramble us.” It has a kind of “Defending Your Life” vibe.
The other take, “(a)”, comes two tracks later as an upbeat, chuka-chuka disco version. The lyrics obsess over how the brain works and whether “I think too much for my own good / Some people say so / Other people say no, no / The fact is you don’t think as much as you could.” The first time I heard this song, I laughed out loud and didn’t really get it. But it creeps up on you, and now I can’t get enough of it.
While he was working on Hearts and Bones, it’s safe to say that Paul was thinking way too much. It stutter-steps weirdly between genres without quite landing anywhere - pseudo-disco, pseudo-gospel, pseudo-new wave. The lyrics have a tortured, obsessive quality. Against a nervous rhythm, “When Numbers Get Serious” passes mercurially from esoteric numerology to the safety in statistics to the numbers that define our lives (phone number, address, age, etc). It ends with a surreal and kind of corny vision of numbers bedding down at night after a long day of being… numbers. It’s… well, it’s just weird, and all encapsulated in a slick, lite-disco-funk package. Paul Simon! Going crazy in the ’80s.
Oh, and Hearts and Bones is the worst selling album in Paul Simon’s career. (This may no longer be true thanks to Songs from The Capeman, though I couldn’t find out for sure.)
March 14th, 2008 at 2:15 am
Think outwith when he was singing with Art that people see him as the guy who done that video with Chevy Chase and had an African influenced album. But I suppose Graceland is his most famous solo stuff. Must confess though that I much preferred The Rhythm of the Saints as an album. I often think that Paul is to music what Woody Allen is to film
And i am not just talking height here lol
December 26th, 2008 at 5:00 pm
Great comments for a great artsit!