The Pied Piper

You may have heard, on an oldies station, a song by one Crispian St. Peters that goes "I'm the Pied Piper/ Follow me," with a lot of piccolo in it. This is not that song.

It is another song, performed by a girl group called The Cupcakes, that also refers to the Grimm fairy-tale about the motley-dressed (or "pied") flute player whom, when he was not paid for removing the rats from Hamlin with his hypnotic flute-playing, came back and removed the children. This is why you have to "pay the piper" (yes, this is where the expression comes from).

In any case, our song here-- co-written by Richie Cordell (who sang "Dori Anne")-- credits Paul Simon on the 45 label. Not Jerry Landis or True Taylor, but Paul himself, under his own name. The year? 1965.

There is something wish-fulfilling about a musician writing a song about a guy who, just with his music, attracts all the girls. From Orpheus and his rabid groupies, the Bacchae, through Franz Liszt, to the girls a-swoon with Beatlemaina, music has attracted romantic attention. And for just as long, musicians have been hoping for some of that magical, musical aphrodisiac to work for them.

Here, the girls sing about it from their viewpoint. "He's up and down my block whistling his song/ I've got to follow him as he goes along." She is not alone: "There he goes, and right behind/ The girls all follow him in line... I'm only Number 5 and I fall right in line/ Pied Piper."

So, there's the effect. "I get this feeling that I just can't explain... Funny, how he's got a hold over me."

It's a pretty serious case. Even when he's not around, his impact is felt. "I get my homework and it's gotta get done/ It's almost 10:00 and I ain't begun." And when he actually shows up? "He's underneath my windowsill!/ Will I love him? Yes, I will!"

What's the cause, though? "He's the cutest boy I ever did see." Which never seems to hurt.

But mostly, "Here he comes again he's whistlin' that tune/ I get excited and I run out of my room." Yes, mostly it's the music.

The speaker admits, "I guess it's silly cause he'll never be mine," but still, "I don't feel bad." At some level, she knows it's a schoolgirl crush and is simply reveling in the glee of it all, like any good fan.

For once, the songwriter assays a woman's point of view-- what does he see through her eyes? Why, doting affection for an adorable musician, of course! A cute face and a pretty tune, that's what women want! How lucky for him that that's exactly what he's got.

But the tune is harmless. Adorable, in fact... and it should have been a hit. Shame that it was never rediscovered by, say, Berry Gordy or Phil Spector. How many girls could have identified with having a crush on the cute neighborhood musician? Probably more than a few.

For the guys, what an appropriate role model. Some off-beat clothes and a funky tune? Not to hard to come by. And hey, it worked for the Pied Piper.

Musical Note:
The Cupcakes were, in fact, The Cookies. But they also recorded as The Cinderellas, The Palisades, The Honey Bees, The Stepping Stones... and sometimes weren't credited at all.

Next Song: Cuba Si, Nixon No

So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright

Title aside, this song is not about the celebrated architect. Rather, "Frank Lloyd Wright" was one of Simon's nicknames for Garfunkel, who was an architecture student in college.

The "farewell" nature of the song is due to Garfunkel's leaving the duo to pursue an acting career. (More about this in the discussion of "The Only Living Boy in New York.")

The hand drums and flute are unusual, Caribbean touches. As is the fact that Grafunkel carries the vocals in a song in which Simon is saying farewell to him.

It is a pleasant-enough farewell at that, an amicable split. The "so soon" is interesting, given that the duo had known each other and worked together musically since high school. "I've never laughed so long" is also nice to hear, given the famous, or rather infamous, nature of their relationship as depicted in the general media.

The line "never change your point of view" is a nice way of saying that Simon felt he was continuously evolving, while Garfunkel seemed happily stuck in a groove. Their subsequent careers bear this out, with Simon collaborating with everyone from Brazilian drummers to avant-garde dancers....

...while Garfunkel, who had his pick of songwriters, did not choose, say, Randy Newman or Leonard Cohen to interpret, or even Cole Porter, but Jimmy Webb. Webb wrote "Witchita Lineman," "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" and "McArthur Park."

Still, Simon admits, "when I run dry, I stop awhile and think of you." Perhaps Garfunkel's reliance on classic songcraft provided Simon with some structure, when his exploratory nature could have led him to take a song almost anywhere.

Ultimately, though, it seems that their deep appreciation for each other's musical talent --and each other's sheer love of the art form-- was enough to sustain their friendship as long as it has lasted.

"All of the nights we'd harmonize 'til dawn..." even when the concert was over, or there had been no concert, the two would simply sit and play and sing for hours... and revel in the uniquely beautiful sound they made together. The laughter must have been that of pure joy.

Perhaps they only "harmony" they had was musical. Even if so, what harmony it was.


Next Song: The Boxer