(Well, I said if I found more Paul Simon songs, I would post them, and I did... so here they are. Two more. One more this week, and another next week.)
This song is from The Capeman. More pointedly, it is not from that musical, as it did not make it into the final version or into the Lyrics book. It was posted by a very good fansite, paul-simon.info, so thanks go to them for this find.
It is clearly intended for the musical, as it mentions Puerto Rico, but aside from that, not much is clear about it. It seems to take place during Salvador's parole-violating journey to see his pen-pal girlfriend in Arizona, since Tucson is mentioned.
Frustratingly, the site does not explain which character gets which bit of dialogue; it is unclear who is speaking (or singing) several of the lines. All we can know is that Sanchez introduces himself, and extrapolate from there. It may be that they simply take turns... or as in normal conversations, there may be a pause, after which the same speaker re-initiates the dialogue.
The song seems to have been left out due to the its introduction of a new character, who hesitantly calls himself Sanchez, who is not heard from otherwise, and the lack of their interaction advancing the plot at all or even revealing much about Salvador's character. Other than he is nervous, being on the lam and all. Which we knew.
The interaction, such as it is, takes place somewhere with a dirt floor. Perhaps in Arizona itself, on the way to his girlfriend's reservation (she's Native American). One of them does observe that "the desert gets cold at night."
The only other hint is the song's title, "The Mission," which seems to serve double duty. It means the mission of love that Salvador is on... but also the building he finds himself in, one of the missions, like The Alamo, that dot the American southwest. An abandoned one may provide a roof and walls, but perhaps no more than a dirt floor for sleeping.
Sanchez, as we discover he calls himself, says he comes from "Canada" and works out of Tuscon. Salvador responds, falsely, that he is a "traveling salesman/ Pick-up and deliveries/ I'm waiting for someone/ He looks just like you." Which may be his explanation for being willing to converse.
Sanchez, picking up on Salvador's reluctance to talk, assures him: "No need to advertise ourselves to the local population." Sanchez does rightly guess that Salvador is from Puerto Rico, asking if he is headed there.
He also offers Salvador part of his food, possibly as a gesture of trust, since Salvador admits: "I've seen you watching me/ Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm paranoid/ But I've got my reasons/ My fears..."
The song closes with the following exchange as they say their good-nights and bed down:
A: The desert gets cold at night...
B: Still, Heaven is in your sight.
A: Isn't it strange that we came the same distance/ Just a coincidence?
B: Maybe so. Maybe it's fate that tied us together.
A: I ain't tied to anything.
B: I'll see you tomorrow.
A: Amen to that, my friend. Amen.
Speaker B is quite religious, speaking of "Heaven" and "fate." If it is Salvador, this is a bit out of character. Even if he is excited to be out of jail and to see his girlfriend, why is he using religious language to express that? He could simply speak of being happy and eager.
More likely, Salvador is the guarded, cynical Speaker A, who speaks of the desert being cold, coincidences, and not "being tied to anything." He may throw B the bone of an "Amen" at the end to make up for his aloofness and to signal that, while not religious himself, he does not dismiss the other's faith, thus ending the exchange on a warmer note.
Again, it is not hard to see why this was left out of the production. Aside from the sad rhyme of "snack" and "back," the whole piece is unnecessary. Sanchez is superfluous as a character, and we already know Salvador's place in the plot and his state of mind.
Next Song: Smile
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Monday, January 12, 2015
Monday, May 2, 2011
Gone At Last [RIP, Phoebe Snow]
"My Little Town" was the first S&G collaboration in a while, "Still Crazy" was very relatable, and "50 Ways" had an irrepressible beat. So those being hits... well, sure. "Gone At Last" might have seemed too overtly gospel for pop radio (once again, the Jesse Dixon singers provide backup), but it grazed the Top 20.
The song itself is quite self-explanatory. It tells the story of an unlikely friendship. First, the man comes into a truck stop, presumably at the side of a highway. Is he a trucker? Maybe just a lone traveller. Regardless, he is cold and "weary" from driving down harrowingly icy roads. On top of that, he is wallowing in regret: "I was thinking about my past/ I've have a long streak of bad luck."
A woman sees him in his state of woe. She is possibly a waitress at the truck stop's restaurant, possibly a fellow solo traveller. She knows his despair is genuine and not some passive-aggressive plea for attention. The depth of his misery moves her, and she approaches him.
She offers something he needs more that a cup of coffee-- a sensitive ear. First, she asks what's troubling him so (shades of "Run That Body Down": "What's wrong, sweet boy?"), then adds that she can empathize. After all, she's also "had a long streak of bad luck."
He knows he has found a true fellow traveller-- not just down this one icy highway, but down the road of hard knocks. He enthuses that he has been "lift[ed] higher." In what way? He is less weighted down, as now his "burden [is] shared."
While she did not seem as "dejected" as he to begin with, she now admits that she had, in fact, been "sinking fast" as well under the weight of her own "burden." Her good cheer seems to have hidden some secret sorrow that, again, once shared, has been lessened.
Aside from the gospel setting of the song, the one-line chorus repeats the word "pray." While God does not reply directly to either pray-er, it seems that God has been instrumental in bringing these two lost souls together and used them to answer both of their prayers at once. They seem to agree that their meeting was "out of nowhere" and unexpected.
Can one person end another's "streak of bad luck" on a permanent basis? Perhaps not. But now that they each know that someone else shares their fates, and can relate to their stories, the streaks have been broken. Even if they do not end up together, each knows he or she is not truly alone.
Musical Note:
This is a hopeful, uplifting number, and it deserves a greater place in Simon's canon. It was wise of him to craft a number that allows him duets with women, say at festivals and tributes. But since it does require a female co-vocalist, it is not as often performed as it deserves to be, which may be why is is less well-known today.
It should be played on the radio more now, however, if only to make sure that his partner on the number, Phoebe Snow, is remembered-- she died on April 26, 2011 (a week ago tomorrow, as of this writing). Now that she is gone, there are surely many comprehensive obituaries online, which I will not attempt to duplicate here. But, as with any true performer, all you need to know about her you can find in her music.
Next Song: Some Folks Lives Roll Easy
The song itself is quite self-explanatory. It tells the story of an unlikely friendship. First, the man comes into a truck stop, presumably at the side of a highway. Is he a trucker? Maybe just a lone traveller. Regardless, he is cold and "weary" from driving down harrowingly icy roads. On top of that, he is wallowing in regret: "I was thinking about my past/ I've have a long streak of bad luck."
A woman sees him in his state of woe. She is possibly a waitress at the truck stop's restaurant, possibly a fellow solo traveller. She knows his despair is genuine and not some passive-aggressive plea for attention. The depth of his misery moves her, and she approaches him.
She offers something he needs more that a cup of coffee-- a sensitive ear. First, she asks what's troubling him so (shades of "Run That Body Down": "What's wrong, sweet boy?"), then adds that she can empathize. After all, she's also "had a long streak of bad luck."
He knows he has found a true fellow traveller-- not just down this one icy highway, but down the road of hard knocks. He enthuses that he has been "lift[ed] higher." In what way? He is less weighted down, as now his "burden [is] shared."
While she did not seem as "dejected" as he to begin with, she now admits that she had, in fact, been "sinking fast" as well under the weight of her own "burden." Her good cheer seems to have hidden some secret sorrow that, again, once shared, has been lessened.
Aside from the gospel setting of the song, the one-line chorus repeats the word "pray." While God does not reply directly to either pray-er, it seems that God has been instrumental in bringing these two lost souls together and used them to answer both of their prayers at once. They seem to agree that their meeting was "out of nowhere" and unexpected.
Can one person end another's "streak of bad luck" on a permanent basis? Perhaps not. But now that they each know that someone else shares their fates, and can relate to their stories, the streaks have been broken. Even if they do not end up together, each knows he or she is not truly alone.
Musical Note:
This is a hopeful, uplifting number, and it deserves a greater place in Simon's canon. It was wise of him to craft a number that allows him duets with women, say at festivals and tributes. But since it does require a female co-vocalist, it is not as often performed as it deserves to be, which may be why is is less well-known today.
It should be played on the radio more now, however, if only to make sure that his partner on the number, Phoebe Snow, is remembered-- she died on April 26, 2011 (a week ago tomorrow, as of this writing). Now that she is gone, there are surely many comprehensive obituaries online, which I will not attempt to duplicate here. But, as with any true performer, all you need to know about her you can find in her music.
Next Song: Some Folks Lives Roll Easy
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Bridge Over Troubled Water
Part of the reason this song is so resonant, even today, is its message of unwavering friendship. It never mentions the word "love," even if it is to a "silvergirl," so it is not necessarily a "love song" in the usual sense.
And while there are mountains of love songs, there are very few songs about friendships: "Thank You for Being a Friend" (written by Andrew Gold decades before it became the Golden Girls theme song)... "Friendship" from the musical Anything Goes... and the now-obscure "You're a Friend of Mine," a duet between Jackson Browne and Clarence Clemmons (yes, Springsteen's late saxophonist).
At the level of "Bridge" are Carole King's "You've Got a Friend," Ben E. King's "Stand By Me," Bill Withers' "Lean on Me," and Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up." A song that should be as well known is Shawn Colvin's "Climb On (a Back That's Strong), and then there is Randy Newman's "You Got a Friend in Me." Still, compared to the endless supply of love songs, that's barely an album's worth of material.
One thing that many of these songs share is a religious, even Gospel, feeling. "Bridge," which Simon often performs with Gospel groups doing harmony, is definitely influenced by Gospel music, as is the turn of phrase "lay me down." "Stand" and "Lean" are pretty much Gospel songs as they are. And Carole King explained that her song was what she hoped God would sing to her. There is something holy about friendships that "Bridge" really gets.
Simon was listening to a great deal of Gospel music around this time. A line sung by Rev. Claude Jeter (later heard on "Take Me to the Mardi Gras") struck Simon. The song was "Mary, Don't You Weep," and Jeter sang, "I'll be your bridge over deep water if you trust in My Name." So that's where the "bridge over... water" comes from.
Another thing the songs have in common is straight-forward language. A bridge spanning turbulent waters is a powerful image, but Simon presents it in very simple words. This is not "a still-life watercolor of a hour-late afternoon." It's a bridge, as elegant as one in a Monet, yet as magnificent as the Golden Gate. And the water is "troubled," a very emotional idea.
The lyrics here are almost too simple. Simon uncharacteristically uses cliched expressions like "down and out," "on the street," "I'm on your side," and "when times get rough." It's a shame, because right next to these, Simon presents turns of phrase that are just as basic in their word choice, yet more innovative-- "feeling small" (a size, not an emotion), "when evening falls so hard (a pun, yet a poignant one)-- that have just as much emotional impact. More, in fact, for being new.
For some reason, these friendship songs tend to be about supporting friends in bad times, not celebrating good ones together. "Bridge" is very much a song of support--what else is a "bridge" but something that supports you until you reach the other side of an obstacle?
The third verse-- when the other instruments join the piano-- is about that other side. It is time for the beleaguered friend "to shine," like "silver"... and so will her "dreams." Since she will be shining in the spotlight, he won't be standing beside her and sharing it, but positioned "behind," still in support mode.
One irony of the song is that it is almost entirely performed by Garfunkel, and it is (aside from "Emily") his most beautiful performance. For one member of a duo to sing a song by the other is as image of support as powerful as the central one in this piece; imagine a song about friendship called "I Will Always Sing Your Song." Yet Simon and Garfunkel have one of the most infamously contentious friendships in all of celebrity-dom.
Among his best, most-acclaimed songs, "Sounds of Silence," "Mrs. Robinson," and "Call Me Al," show a sophisiciated, cynical side of Simon, and even "Scarborough Fair" has a hidden sarcasm, as we have seen. "The Boxer," which we are yet to discuss, is about dealing with adversity, and "Homeward Bound" and "Graceland" are about a longing that may prove unfulfilled. Of all the songs vying for the position of Simon's magnum opus, only "Bridge" has a message of pure hope.
Once, on Saturday Night Live, Simon jokingly discussed his image of being "Mr. Alienation." But how could anyone think of him in those terms while remembering that he wrote this, the greatest ode to friendship?
IMPACT:
"Bridge" remains one of the most important songs in all of popular music, perhaps in all of music history. It is one of the few songs receiving many millions of airplays. It is one of the most covered songs in music history, with versions by everyone from Elvis to Aretha.
The song and its album won six Grammys. The album as a whole won Album of the Year and Grammys for its arrangements--shared by S&G and others-- and engineering. The song won Record of the Year (to Simon and Garfunkel, for their performing and producing it), and both "Contemporary Pop Song" and just plain Song of the Year (to Simon, for writing it). The song is also in the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Moreover, the song is now a cultural landmark. Simon has performed "Bridge" at times of healing from national crisis. Recently, for example, it was performed to raise money for relief from the Haiti earthquake.
Even a short listing of the cover versions of this song would be impressive, in terms of who did the covering. What's striking is the range of styles the song has been performed in. It has become a sort of Mt. Everest for those with powerful vocals, regardless of genre, to try and climb:
And while there are mountains of love songs, there are very few songs about friendships: "Thank You for Being a Friend" (written by Andrew Gold decades before it became the Golden Girls theme song)... "Friendship" from the musical Anything Goes... and the now-obscure "You're a Friend of Mine," a duet between Jackson Browne and Clarence Clemmons (yes, Springsteen's late saxophonist).
At the level of "Bridge" are Carole King's "You've Got a Friend," Ben E. King's "Stand By Me," Bill Withers' "Lean on Me," and Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up." A song that should be as well known is Shawn Colvin's "Climb On (a Back That's Strong), and then there is Randy Newman's "You Got a Friend in Me." Still, compared to the endless supply of love songs, that's barely an album's worth of material.
One thing that many of these songs share is a religious, even Gospel, feeling. "Bridge," which Simon often performs with Gospel groups doing harmony, is definitely influenced by Gospel music, as is the turn of phrase "lay me down." "Stand" and "Lean" are pretty much Gospel songs as they are. And Carole King explained that her song was what she hoped God would sing to her. There is something holy about friendships that "Bridge" really gets.
Simon was listening to a great deal of Gospel music around this time. A line sung by Rev. Claude Jeter (later heard on "Take Me to the Mardi Gras") struck Simon. The song was "Mary, Don't You Weep," and Jeter sang, "I'll be your bridge over deep water if you trust in My Name." So that's where the "bridge over... water" comes from.
Another thing the songs have in common is straight-forward language. A bridge spanning turbulent waters is a powerful image, but Simon presents it in very simple words. This is not "a still-life watercolor of a hour-late afternoon." It's a bridge, as elegant as one in a Monet, yet as magnificent as the Golden Gate. And the water is "troubled," a very emotional idea.
The lyrics here are almost too simple. Simon uncharacteristically uses cliched expressions like "down and out," "on the street," "I'm on your side," and "when times get rough." It's a shame, because right next to these, Simon presents turns of phrase that are just as basic in their word choice, yet more innovative-- "feeling small" (a size, not an emotion), "when evening falls so hard (a pun, yet a poignant one)-- that have just as much emotional impact. More, in fact, for being new.
For some reason, these friendship songs tend to be about supporting friends in bad times, not celebrating good ones together. "Bridge" is very much a song of support--what else is a "bridge" but something that supports you until you reach the other side of an obstacle?
The third verse-- when the other instruments join the piano-- is about that other side. It is time for the beleaguered friend "to shine," like "silver"... and so will her "dreams." Since she will be shining in the spotlight, he won't be standing beside her and sharing it, but positioned "behind," still in support mode.
One irony of the song is that it is almost entirely performed by Garfunkel, and it is (aside from "Emily") his most beautiful performance. For one member of a duo to sing a song by the other is as image of support as powerful as the central one in this piece; imagine a song about friendship called "I Will Always Sing Your Song." Yet Simon and Garfunkel have one of the most infamously contentious friendships in all of celebrity-dom.
Among his best, most-acclaimed songs, "Sounds of Silence," "Mrs. Robinson," and "Call Me Al," show a sophisiciated, cynical side of Simon, and even "Scarborough Fair" has a hidden sarcasm, as we have seen. "The Boxer," which we are yet to discuss, is about dealing with adversity, and "Homeward Bound" and "Graceland" are about a longing that may prove unfulfilled. Of all the songs vying for the position of Simon's magnum opus, only "Bridge" has a message of pure hope.
Once, on Saturday Night Live, Simon jokingly discussed his image of being "Mr. Alienation." But how could anyone think of him in those terms while remembering that he wrote this, the greatest ode to friendship?
IMPACT:
"Bridge" remains one of the most important songs in all of popular music, perhaps in all of music history. It is one of the few songs receiving many millions of airplays. It is one of the most covered songs in music history, with versions by everyone from Elvis to Aretha.
The song and its album won six Grammys. The album as a whole won Album of the Year and Grammys for its arrangements--shared by S&G and others-- and engineering. The song won Record of the Year (to Simon and Garfunkel, for their performing and producing it), and both "Contemporary Pop Song" and just plain Song of the Year (to Simon, for writing it). The song is also in the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Moreover, the song is now a cultural landmark. Simon has performed "Bridge" at times of healing from national crisis. Recently, for example, it was performed to raise money for relief from the Haiti earthquake.
Even a short listing of the cover versions of this song would be impressive, in terms of who did the covering. What's striking is the range of styles the song has been performed in. It has become a sort of Mt. Everest for those with powerful vocals, regardless of genre, to try and climb:
Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley, Tom Jones, Josh Groban, Aaron Neville, Idina Menzel, Roy Orbison, Johnny Mathis, Bobby Womack, Barry Manilow, Shirley Bassey, Bebe and CeCe Winans.. even those vocalists for whom English is not a first language, like Andrea Bocelli and Nana Mouskouri.
Those with more subdued vocal styles have assayed the song as well: Andy Williams, Roberta Flack, Perry Como, Peggy Lee, Anita Baker, Anne Murray, even The Supremes and The Jackson 5.
It has even proven irresistible for the country set, having been covered by Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Glen Campbell, Buck Owens, Chet Atkins, and LeAnn Rimes.
Next Song: El Condor Pasa (If I Could)
Next Song: El Condor Pasa (If I Could)
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