There is an album of Bob Dylan songs called Saved, and it is a series of his religious songs, done gospel style. Why there is no equivalent Paul Simon compilation is a mystery.
Certainly, he has enough material. "Bridge Over Troubled Water" has been performed by many gospel groups, and was so recently on TV's Glee. "Gone At Last," "A Church is Burning," "He Was My Brother," "Mother and Child Reunion," "Mrs. Robinson," "One Man's Ceiling," "Slip Slidin'," all are either gospel or could easily be arranged in that style...even his brand-new "Getting Ready for Christmas Day" is based on an African-American sermon.
But the one that is the most gospel-inflected is this one right here. On the original album, Simon is backed by The Dixie Hummingbirds. In other performances, he is backed by The Jesse Dixon Singers. Both groups have performed it at their own concerts, without Simon. There is also a great, semi-a capella version by members of the O'Jays that was part of the movie The Fighting Temptations; the clip is on YouTube. As is the clip of Stevie Wonder performing it at a Simon tribute.
It is fair to say that this song is one of the few written in the latter half of the 20th Century that has been accepted into the gospel repertoire... of those songs not written with that intent.
The song itself is very straight-forward. The verses take us through the speaker's life, and even imagine the unlikely event of his ascending to the US presidency. In each case, he is tempted by the Devil (or his stand-in, Congress). In each case, he is able to rebuff the Devil's temptations by knowing he is secure in his mother's love.
In the first verse, he is the picture of childhood innocence and reverence. He is "consecrated" and sings in Church.
Even in adulthood, he is happily married-- sex is not a sin but a "consummation." The line "I can snatch a little purity" might mean that even when he is, um, consummating with his wife, he remembers that this is a sacred act and not just physical pleasure. (If the word "snatch" had the same 'entendre' meaning in the '70s as it does today, this is a very sneaky, ribald pun by Simon.)
The last scene imagines the president at the "podium" before Congress, which generally happens only during the State of the Union Address. Even in this case, the speaker would still say "Who do you think you're fooling?" if he were tempted to do the wrong thing by this powerful group.
All because of his mother's love... which he says is an eternal and immutable as God's, since God is called "The Rock of Ages." (The original Hebrew word "olamim" translates variously as "eternities," "infinities," "worlds" or "universes"-- That God is "tzur olamim" means that God is the constant, steadfast "rock" on all the eternal, infinite planes of existence.)
This is a finite song, but one that has brought infinite joy to millions. And it's certainly the most exuberant Mother's Day card ever written.
IMPACT:
The song went to #2 in the US, and stayed in the Top 40 for three and a half months. It charted in many other English-speaking countries: the UK, Canada, and Australia. And also in The Netherlands!
The Hummingbirds' own version made the R&B chart and snatched them a little... Grammy. Jazz favorite Ramsey Lewis and pops composer Peter Nero covered it, too.
Next Song: Still Crazy After All These Years
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
St. Judy's Comet
Comets tend to be named for the astronomers who discover them. And one does not think of saints-- religious figures-- as being interested in the science of astronomy. In fact, history is full of antagonism between religious authorities and astronomers.
Yet, comets have been whizzing by for all of recorded history. So they must have been of interest for astrologers. The movement of heavenly bodies-- especially one as dramatic as a comet-- has always been taken as a "sign" for one historical event or another, and one could see how a comet could have been taken as the portent of a miracle performed by a saint and so named for her. Yet, every time I looked for a comet connected with a Saint Judy, or even a St. Judy to begin with, I came up empty.
The closest I can come is St. Jude, and since this song is to a child, one can imagine the child misreading "Jude" by pronouncing the silent "e," resulting in "Judee," which an adult would then spell "Judy."
This album came out in 1973, the year a Comet Kohoutek swung by Earth. It was all over the news and, while it underperformed in astonomer's terms, still was visible without a telescope and captured the public's awe. It spawned dozens of tributes in song as well, by artists as divergent as Kraftwerk and Burl Ives.
So I will hazard a guess that Simon wanted his son to see this astronomic wonder: "I long to see St. Judy's comet sparkle in your eyes when you awake." And it is Simon singing this lullabye: "If I can't sing my boy to sleep, it makes your famous daddy (i.e., Simon himself) look so dumb."
We can picture the father and son watching the comet "roll" by, and noting its tail, the "spray of diamonds in its wake." Then, even though the son was excited by the sight and wanted to discuss it, "the hour of his bedtime [had] long been passed." We can further picture the mother explaining to the father that, since he had riled the child up, he could now be the one to calm him down and tuck him in, explaining that now that the comet had passed, all that was left "flashing" in the night sky were the "fireflies."
The mixed messages given the child of "run come see" and "lay your body down," which alternate, indicate the conflicting tugs all parents feel. We want our children to see the parades, the fireworks, the sunsets, and the once-in-a-lifetime events like comets and eclipses. Yet, we also know that children need their bedtimes and routines... and sleep.
The song is a very touching, personal moment, and one of the prettiest lullabies by a singer-songwriter (and there are a surprising number; Randy Newman, Bob Dylan, Billy Joel, and Pierce Pettis wrote lullabies, for instance). It's a song style that Simon would not revisit until "Father and Daughter."
Garfunkel recorded an album Songs from a Parent to a Child. Perhaps someday, Simon will release an album of his kid-friendly material. If so, this song is a shoo-in.
Yet, comets have been whizzing by for all of recorded history. So they must have been of interest for astrologers. The movement of heavenly bodies-- especially one as dramatic as a comet-- has always been taken as a "sign" for one historical event or another, and one could see how a comet could have been taken as the portent of a miracle performed by a saint and so named for her. Yet, every time I looked for a comet connected with a Saint Judy, or even a St. Judy to begin with, I came up empty.
The closest I can come is St. Jude, and since this song is to a child, one can imagine the child misreading "Jude" by pronouncing the silent "e," resulting in "Judee," which an adult would then spell "Judy."
This album came out in 1973, the year a Comet Kohoutek swung by Earth. It was all over the news and, while it underperformed in astonomer's terms, still was visible without a telescope and captured the public's awe. It spawned dozens of tributes in song as well, by artists as divergent as Kraftwerk and Burl Ives.
So I will hazard a guess that Simon wanted his son to see this astronomic wonder: "I long to see St. Judy's comet sparkle in your eyes when you awake." And it is Simon singing this lullabye: "If I can't sing my boy to sleep, it makes your famous daddy (i.e., Simon himself) look so dumb."
We can picture the father and son watching the comet "roll" by, and noting its tail, the "spray of diamonds in its wake." Then, even though the son was excited by the sight and wanted to discuss it, "the hour of his bedtime [had] long been passed." We can further picture the mother explaining to the father that, since he had riled the child up, he could now be the one to calm him down and tuck him in, explaining that now that the comet had passed, all that was left "flashing" in the night sky were the "fireflies."
The mixed messages given the child of "run come see" and "lay your body down," which alternate, indicate the conflicting tugs all parents feel. We want our children to see the parades, the fireworks, the sunsets, and the once-in-a-lifetime events like comets and eclipses. Yet, we also know that children need their bedtimes and routines... and sleep.
The song is a very touching, personal moment, and one of the prettiest lullabies by a singer-songwriter (and there are a surprising number; Randy Newman, Bob Dylan, Billy Joel, and Pierce Pettis wrote lullabies, for instance). It's a song style that Simon would not revisit until "Father and Daughter."
Garfunkel recorded an album Songs from a Parent to a Child. Perhaps someday, Simon will release an album of his kid-friendly material. If so, this song is a shoo-in.
For now, it's on Kenny Loggins' classic children's album Return to Pooh Corner.
Next Song: Loves Me Like a Rock
Next Song: Loves Me Like a Rock
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Learn How to Fall
Another advice-giving song, this time on the value of making mistakes.
A new book, Better by Mistake, references a still earlier one, Mistakes Were Made (But Not by Me). And then there is The Blessing of the Skinned Knee. All discuss the value and methods of learning from one's mistakes. But Simon's song is earlier than them all, by decades.
In the first verse, the speaker urges the listener to learn how to lose with grace, and to "fall" while minimizing injury.
In the second, he encourages serendipity. The only book of mine I wore out as a child was called Little Bunny Follows His Nose, in which the title rabbit did just that, wandering over a meadow, chasing various scents as they wafted by. The metaphor here, however, is sailing. The word "occupation" is used, almost ironically, as that word is generally used to mean a "job," usually a structured endeavor. Here, it simply means "an activity one is doing."
All along, the guitar is tripping along amiably. The breezy ease of the song once again recalls "Cloudy" and "Feelin' Groovy." Someone who says "you got to drift in the breeze" would also agree that "you got to make the morning last" and observe that "[the clouds] don't know where they're going, and... neither do I."
Then comes the chorus, with its scolding horns. Seeming to shift voice, the speaker stridently and cynically excoriates all of humanity, for all its history. Why? They pursue "glory" and don't stop to see the long view, or their effect on the world.
This speaker seems to contradict the first. After all, if you "stop and scrutinize the plan"-- a studious and focused pursuit-- how can you also "drift in the breeze," and amble about, following your nose?
Perhaps the "scrutinizing" does not have to be done pondering books in a library or listening to a lecture. It can be done sitting on bus-stop bench, watching people... or lying on a beach or under a tree, thinking about all one has learned about history and psychology both from school and living life. Certainly, that is a form of "drifting" as much as going out on an actual sailboat. We even use the expression, "let your mind wander."
Overall, the song seems to be advice given to a child about to venture off to college, a sung version of "Don't be afraid to drop a class if you're failing it-- you don't have to be great at everything" and "Don't worry about declaring a major until your junior year" or even "If you want to backpack through Europe for a couple of months first, go ahead."
Lastly, a "tank town" is a very small town, whose only seeming use was as a stop for a train to refill its water tanks. Maybe tank towns "tell no lie" because they are too small to keep secrets. And maybe Simon heard the expression "...learn how to fall" in a town like that; it certainly seems like a rather homey, folksy piece of advice.
Oh... and if I have made any mistakes in this entry, I only hope I can learn from them.
Next Song: St. Judy's Comet
A new book, Better by Mistake, references a still earlier one, Mistakes Were Made (But Not by Me). And then there is The Blessing of the Skinned Knee. All discuss the value and methods of learning from one's mistakes. But Simon's song is earlier than them all, by decades.
In the first verse, the speaker urges the listener to learn how to lose with grace, and to "fall" while minimizing injury.
In the second, he encourages serendipity. The only book of mine I wore out as a child was called Little Bunny Follows His Nose, in which the title rabbit did just that, wandering over a meadow, chasing various scents as they wafted by. The metaphor here, however, is sailing. The word "occupation" is used, almost ironically, as that word is generally used to mean a "job," usually a structured endeavor. Here, it simply means "an activity one is doing."
All along, the guitar is tripping along amiably. The breezy ease of the song once again recalls "Cloudy" and "Feelin' Groovy." Someone who says "you got to drift in the breeze" would also agree that "you got to make the morning last" and observe that "[the clouds] don't know where they're going, and... neither do I."
Then comes the chorus, with its scolding horns. Seeming to shift voice, the speaker stridently and cynically excoriates all of humanity, for all its history. Why? They pursue "glory" and don't stop to see the long view, or their effect on the world.
This speaker seems to contradict the first. After all, if you "stop and scrutinize the plan"-- a studious and focused pursuit-- how can you also "drift in the breeze," and amble about, following your nose?
Perhaps the "scrutinizing" does not have to be done pondering books in a library or listening to a lecture. It can be done sitting on bus-stop bench, watching people... or lying on a beach or under a tree, thinking about all one has learned about history and psychology both from school and living life. Certainly, that is a form of "drifting" as much as going out on an actual sailboat. We even use the expression, "let your mind wander."
Overall, the song seems to be advice given to a child about to venture off to college, a sung version of "Don't be afraid to drop a class if you're failing it-- you don't have to be great at everything" and "Don't worry about declaring a major until your junior year" or even "If you want to backpack through Europe for a couple of months first, go ahead."
Lastly, a "tank town" is a very small town, whose only seeming use was as a stop for a train to refill its water tanks. Maybe tank towns "tell no lie" because they are too small to keep secrets. And maybe Simon heard the expression "...learn how to fall" in a town like that; it certainly seems like a rather homey, folksy piece of advice.
Oh... and if I have made any mistakes in this entry, I only hope I can learn from them.
Next Song: St. Judy's Comet
Monday, March 7, 2011
Was a Sunny Day
This is a seemingly slight song, somewhere between the reveries of "Cloudy" and the nonchalance of "Feelin' Groovy."
But there is a bit of history in the song, and trouble in the paradise it loosely describes.
"Sunny" was spun off of a song called "Lover Lover, Come Back," in which Simon was working with some Caribbean tropes. "Lover Lover" eventually became (what else?) "Mother and Child Reunion," and the leftover verses became "Was a Sunny Day," likewise an island-inflected tune.
The line "not a negative word was heard" seems to borrow both syntax and sense from the famous cowboy song "Home on the Range," where "seldom is heard/a discouraging word."
Newport News is a real town, in Virginia, and there is a Navy port there.
But our man Earl? Well, a band called The Cadillacs had a lead singer named Earl Carroll; his nickname was Speedo. In 1955, they recorded their biggest hit, "Speedo": "Well now, they often call me Speedo/ But my real name is Mr. Earl." (Speedo swimwear, incidentally, dates as far back as 1927!)
Our Earl exclusively dates a "girl" named Lorelei (her fidelity is not described). Her name is that of a mythical mermaid whose siren song leads men to their watery graves. The only other thing we know about her is that she peaked in high school, where she was a "queen," possibly of the prom or homecoming. Since her life is all downhill from here, she has "nothing, really, left to lose." And so, nothing to live for.
He is a sailor; she, a mermaid. She is going down, and it seems she is going to drag him down to the depths of her eventual depression with her.
But why dwell on that? Right now, it's "sunny" and cloudless, with Nature's "birdies" and mankind's "radio" singing in harmony.
The song is important, to the degree that it is, for its music more than its lyrics. It pulls from the 1950s rock that Simon loves, and yet it is another successful foray into the Caribbean songs that entrance him.
An autobiographical reading of the song might be: Simon, as the stolid Navy man, his transistor radio still plugged into the crew-cut sound of the past. The island music is the siren, the seductress that pulls him astray... but what a way to go.
(From a sheer quality standpoint, there is an exponential growth from the lumbering "Why Don't You Write Me" to the breezy "Was a Sunny Day"... and in just three years.)
Musical Note: The backing vocals are by sisters Maggie and Terre Roche. With the addition of another sister, Suzzy, they soon became The Roches, an excellent and quirky vocal ensemble; Simon produced their debut album. The song was covered by many other acts, including Rosemary Clooney!
Next song: Learn How to Fall
But there is a bit of history in the song, and trouble in the paradise it loosely describes.
"Sunny" was spun off of a song called "Lover Lover, Come Back," in which Simon was working with some Caribbean tropes. "Lover Lover" eventually became (what else?) "Mother and Child Reunion," and the leftover verses became "Was a Sunny Day," likewise an island-inflected tune.
The line "not a negative word was heard" seems to borrow both syntax and sense from the famous cowboy song "Home on the Range," where "seldom is heard/a discouraging word."
Newport News is a real town, in Virginia, and there is a Navy port there.
But our man Earl? Well, a band called The Cadillacs had a lead singer named Earl Carroll; his nickname was Speedo. In 1955, they recorded their biggest hit, "Speedo": "Well now, they often call me Speedo/ But my real name is Mr. Earl." (Speedo swimwear, incidentally, dates as far back as 1927!)
Our Earl exclusively dates a "girl" named Lorelei (her fidelity is not described). Her name is that of a mythical mermaid whose siren song leads men to their watery graves. The only other thing we know about her is that she peaked in high school, where she was a "queen," possibly of the prom or homecoming. Since her life is all downhill from here, she has "nothing, really, left to lose." And so, nothing to live for.
He is a sailor; she, a mermaid. She is going down, and it seems she is going to drag him down to the depths of her eventual depression with her.
But why dwell on that? Right now, it's "sunny" and cloudless, with Nature's "birdies" and mankind's "radio" singing in harmony.
The song is important, to the degree that it is, for its music more than its lyrics. It pulls from the 1950s rock that Simon loves, and yet it is another successful foray into the Caribbean songs that entrance him.
An autobiographical reading of the song might be: Simon, as the stolid Navy man, his transistor radio still plugged into the crew-cut sound of the past. The island music is the siren, the seductress that pulls him astray... but what a way to go.
(From a sheer quality standpoint, there is an exponential growth from the lumbering "Why Don't You Write Me" to the breezy "Was a Sunny Day"... and in just three years.)
Musical Note: The backing vocals are by sisters Maggie and Terre Roche. With the addition of another sister, Suzzy, they soon became The Roches, an excellent and quirky vocal ensemble; Simon produced their debut album. The song was covered by many other acts, including Rosemary Clooney!
Next song: Learn How to Fall
Monday, February 28, 2011
American Tune
Not meaning to be rude in the face such a lovely piece, but aside from the title, in what sense is this tune "American?" The melody is borrowed from Bach. And nothing American-- a grand old flag, amber waves of grain, or even a baseball-- appears until the end of the chorus.
Let us now, in the words of Simon's previous "America," "walk off to look for America" in this song.
The first two verses are almost identical to each other in content, although the first speaks of the self and the second of the other. Rather than repeat the first four lines of the first two verses, let us again quote the earlier song: "I'm lost/ I'm empty and I'm aching." The sentiment seems remarkably similar.
Then, the speaker's response was the knowledge that all those with him on the highway were fellow seekers, all equally trusting what was at the end of "The New Jersey Turnpike," i.e.: America itself.
Yet, our song seems to begin where the last left off. Now, he reports, he is "weary" from travel and not yet at his destination. "Still," he accepts his fate as expected, and even throws in a French phrase to show how "far away from home" he still feels. Verdict? "I'm all right."
But when the song shifts to the "shattered dreams" of others, he is not as accepting: "I wonder what went wrong." Things were going well and they seemed to be chugging right along... but then, why so much misery?
Perhaps the answer lies not in this world, he muses. He dreamed that, in an out-of-body experience, his soul "reassured" him. And then an entirely new dream began and he himself flew.
The Turnpike must end where the land ends. The Statue of Liberty is on an island. From his perspective of height, he realizes that the goal remains ever elusive, as the island drifts out "to sea."
Which, not to put a point on it, would be eastward. In the next line, what comes westward but an early wave of immigrants, much too early to even be welcomed by Lady Liberty's torch: "We come on a ship they call the Mayflower."
And... more! We don't need dreams to fly, we can fly into outer space on "a ship that sailed the Moon."
When you come to "look for America," you might try to find it in New York. Then, maybe at the place others came to find it-- the legendary Plymouth Rock. Then, the spot millions journeyed to: Ellis Island. Yet, even an island can drift.
You will never find America in a place, concludes the speaker. It might as well be on that lunar plot where the grand old flag stands. America is the answering of a question with a question.
At "the age's most uncertain hour"-- insert your historic milestone here-- we ask, "Well, now what can we do?" Run out of land? Build a boat. Run out of Earth? Fly to the Moon. We're there. Now what? Cyberspace. Next? String Theory.
This is the answer to the "broken" and "shattered" dreams and souls mentioned earlier. America was the answer to monarchy and communism... and everything in between and after. It can be the answer for a person, too. "You can't be forever blessed," by a Deity, but you can rely on yourself and be reassured by your soul.
America is not about finding. It's about seeking. As tautological as it seems, America is about "looking for America."
"Resting" along the journey, yes, as our speaker begs to do in the last line. But only because "tomorrow is another working day." Tomorrow, the quest begins anew.
IMPACT: The song reached #35 in the US. The Brits, evidently, did not find it resonant... perhaps this is more proof of it being an American tune.
After the actual Statue of Liberty itself underwent restoration for its 100th anniversary, there was an unveiling. Two songs were played at it: "The Star Spangled Banner" and "American Tune."
Many covers have been done from across the musical and political spectrum. One of the most lovely is that done by The Indigo Girls, who are somewhat heirs to S&G altogether. It was also covered by their contemporary singer-songwriter, Shawn Colvin, and by rocker AnnWilson (of Heart).
It is one of Simon's signature songs, even today, and has become part of the fabric of American culture. It would be interesting to see if it is included, today, in songbooks of American-themed choral works alongside "America the Beautiful" and "God Bless America." Interesting... but not surprising. (Surprising would be if Simon's naturalistic "America" made it.)
NOTE: The melody is... borrowed. As Wikipedia explains:
The tune is based on the melody of the hymn "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded" (German: "O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden," text by Paul Gerhardt). The common name for this hymn tune is "Passion Chorale."
The well-known hymn is itself a reworking of an earlier secular song, "Mein G'müt ist mir verwirret," composed by Hans Leo Hassler.
Next Song: Was a Sunny Day
Let us now, in the words of Simon's previous "America," "walk off to look for America" in this song.
The first two verses are almost identical to each other in content, although the first speaks of the self and the second of the other. Rather than repeat the first four lines of the first two verses, let us again quote the earlier song: "I'm lost/ I'm empty and I'm aching." The sentiment seems remarkably similar.
Then, the speaker's response was the knowledge that all those with him on the highway were fellow seekers, all equally trusting what was at the end of "The New Jersey Turnpike," i.e.: America itself.
Yet, our song seems to begin where the last left off. Now, he reports, he is "weary" from travel and not yet at his destination. "Still," he accepts his fate as expected, and even throws in a French phrase to show how "far away from home" he still feels. Verdict? "I'm all right."
But when the song shifts to the "shattered dreams" of others, he is not as accepting: "I wonder what went wrong." Things were going well and they seemed to be chugging right along... but then, why so much misery?
Perhaps the answer lies not in this world, he muses. He dreamed that, in an out-of-body experience, his soul "reassured" him. And then an entirely new dream began and he himself flew.
The Turnpike must end where the land ends. The Statue of Liberty is on an island. From his perspective of height, he realizes that the goal remains ever elusive, as the island drifts out "to sea."
Which, not to put a point on it, would be eastward. In the next line, what comes westward but an early wave of immigrants, much too early to even be welcomed by Lady Liberty's torch: "We come on a ship they call the Mayflower."
And... more! We don't need dreams to fly, we can fly into outer space on "a ship that sailed the Moon."
When you come to "look for America," you might try to find it in New York. Then, maybe at the place others came to find it-- the legendary Plymouth Rock. Then, the spot millions journeyed to: Ellis Island. Yet, even an island can drift.
You will never find America in a place, concludes the speaker. It might as well be on that lunar plot where the grand old flag stands. America is the answering of a question with a question.
At "the age's most uncertain hour"-- insert your historic milestone here-- we ask, "Well, now what can we do?" Run out of land? Build a boat. Run out of Earth? Fly to the Moon. We're there. Now what? Cyberspace. Next? String Theory.
This is the answer to the "broken" and "shattered" dreams and souls mentioned earlier. America was the answer to monarchy and communism... and everything in between and after. It can be the answer for a person, too. "You can't be forever blessed," by a Deity, but you can rely on yourself and be reassured by your soul.
America is not about finding. It's about seeking. As tautological as it seems, America is about "looking for America."
"Resting" along the journey, yes, as our speaker begs to do in the last line. But only because "tomorrow is another working day." Tomorrow, the quest begins anew.
IMPACT: The song reached #35 in the US. The Brits, evidently, did not find it resonant... perhaps this is more proof of it being an American tune.
After the actual Statue of Liberty itself underwent restoration for its 100th anniversary, there was an unveiling. Two songs were played at it: "The Star Spangled Banner" and "American Tune."
Many covers have been done from across the musical and political spectrum. One of the most lovely is that done by The Indigo Girls, who are somewhat heirs to S&G altogether. It was also covered by their contemporary singer-songwriter, Shawn Colvin, and by rocker AnnWilson (of Heart).
It is one of Simon's signature songs, even today, and has become part of the fabric of American culture. It would be interesting to see if it is included, today, in songbooks of American-themed choral works alongside "America the Beautiful" and "God Bless America." Interesting... but not surprising. (Surprising would be if Simon's naturalistic "America" made it.)
NOTE: The melody is... borrowed. As Wikipedia explains:
The tune is based on the melody of the hymn "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded" (German: "O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden," text by Paul Gerhardt). The common name for this hymn tune is "Passion Chorale."
The well-known hymn is itself a reworking of an earlier secular song, "Mein G'müt ist mir verwirret," composed by Hans Leo Hassler.
Next Song: Was a Sunny Day
Monday, February 21, 2011
One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor
"I don't want to get involved." Not an uncommon reaction, seeing as how the cliche that seems to follow those who do get involved is, "No good deed goes unpunished."
Here, the speaker lives in an apartment building where there have been "some strange goings-on." Notably, some violence. The first evidence is an actual bloody nose, the result of which is some "clothes" stained with the same "purple" blood.
But what is the real problem, here-- how is the speaker affected? Is he concerned for the fate of the injured party? Does he want to see justice done to the assailant? Not really-- he just wants the "rules" to be adhered to... and someone to mop the blood that is "messing up the lobby floor."
He realizes that there are humans, and human emotion, involved-- "There's been some hard feelings here/ About some words that were said." But, ultimately, he just wants the fight stopped so that there is quiet, as he can hear through the "ceiling" and "floor."
As he said, this was not an isolated incident, but part of a pattern. The elevator operator either quit or was fired. Then there was more noise, a "racket," perhaps caused by an argument. And then a "fall," which possibly hurt someone. Again, he does not want to get involved, at least past the point of asking-- again-- for a little quiet, please.
"It's just apartment house sense/ It's like apartment rents." In what way? Consideration for one's neighbors comes with the territory, just like paying rent. Everyone must pay what they owe to the landlord. Likewise what they owe to their fellow tenants, which is some tranquility.
So much for what goes on inside the building. What happens outside is just as troubling: "There's an alley in the back of my building/ Where some people congregate in shame." Over what? Possibly some sort of gambling, like numbers or craps, which would keep people "congregating" there. A user would buy drugs and then leave, and a dealer would likely not want a crowd around. Prostitutes might congregate, but not in "shame"-- they tend to flaunt more than hide-- and their clients would pick them up and, again, leave.
The song then ends on a chilling note. Our speaker, who has assiduously kept himself apart from his building-mates, thinks he hears someone "call [his] name." He is known, even unto his identity.
He is involved. Simply by living there and trying to enforce the minimal standards of propriety. Now, someone wants to talk with him. Perhaps to borrow money, perhaps to teach him a lesson about meddling, which he has done to such a minimal degree. Even if he runs now, he has to go home at some point.
As distant as he tried to make himself from the "mess" of his fellow tenants' lives, he is involved. He is a member of the community, whether he likes it or not.
Compare this with another loner of Simon's who also lives in a communal dwelling-- the "Most Peculiar Man." He is completely uninvolved: "He lived all alone... within a house/ within himself." Yet, once he died, he was revealed to be part of a community despite his efforts at solitude. His neighbors had an opinion or two of him, and he had a brother, and now there is an obituary in the public newspaper.
Other of Simon's songs along this theme are "Richard Cory," about the ironic solitude of fame, and "I Am a Rock," about withdrawal from social contact after a harsh breakup. Even "Sound of Silence" is about a lost society of loners who ignore each other, and the most vulnerable among them, at their own peril.
Simon has been pegged "Mr. Alienation" for even addressing the issue of isolation, for even saying, "I am an island." This is unfair, because the conclusion he keeps reaching is that, as Donne wrote, "No man is an island."
Simon agrees that the other side of your floor is someone else's ceiling. There is no point to pretending you are not invloved, he insists. If you are human, you simply are.
Musical Note:
The descending, and low, piano notes that open the song were sampled by a British rap duo performing as Biss N Eso. Their track is called "Up Jumped the Boogie."
Simon included this track with a 1940's-esque jazz remix on his In the Blue Light album; it's the only song therein to which no changes were made to the lyrics, just the arrangement.
Next Song: American Tune
Here, the speaker lives in an apartment building where there have been "some strange goings-on." Notably, some violence. The first evidence is an actual bloody nose, the result of which is some "clothes" stained with the same "purple" blood.
But what is the real problem, here-- how is the speaker affected? Is he concerned for the fate of the injured party? Does he want to see justice done to the assailant? Not really-- he just wants the "rules" to be adhered to... and someone to mop the blood that is "messing up the lobby floor."
He realizes that there are humans, and human emotion, involved-- "There's been some hard feelings here/ About some words that were said." But, ultimately, he just wants the fight stopped so that there is quiet, as he can hear through the "ceiling" and "floor."
As he said, this was not an isolated incident, but part of a pattern. The elevator operator either quit or was fired. Then there was more noise, a "racket," perhaps caused by an argument. And then a "fall," which possibly hurt someone. Again, he does not want to get involved, at least past the point of asking-- again-- for a little quiet, please.
"It's just apartment house sense/ It's like apartment rents." In what way? Consideration for one's neighbors comes with the territory, just like paying rent. Everyone must pay what they owe to the landlord. Likewise what they owe to their fellow tenants, which is some tranquility.
So much for what goes on inside the building. What happens outside is just as troubling: "There's an alley in the back of my building/ Where some people congregate in shame." Over what? Possibly some sort of gambling, like numbers or craps, which would keep people "congregating" there. A user would buy drugs and then leave, and a dealer would likely not want a crowd around. Prostitutes might congregate, but not in "shame"-- they tend to flaunt more than hide-- and their clients would pick them up and, again, leave.
The song then ends on a chilling note. Our speaker, who has assiduously kept himself apart from his building-mates, thinks he hears someone "call [his] name." He is known, even unto his identity.
He is involved. Simply by living there and trying to enforce the minimal standards of propriety. Now, someone wants to talk with him. Perhaps to borrow money, perhaps to teach him a lesson about meddling, which he has done to such a minimal degree. Even if he runs now, he has to go home at some point.
As distant as he tried to make himself from the "mess" of his fellow tenants' lives, he is involved. He is a member of the community, whether he likes it or not.
Compare this with another loner of Simon's who also lives in a communal dwelling-- the "Most Peculiar Man." He is completely uninvolved: "He lived all alone... within a house/ within himself." Yet, once he died, he was revealed to be part of a community despite his efforts at solitude. His neighbors had an opinion or two of him, and he had a brother, and now there is an obituary in the public newspaper.
Other of Simon's songs along this theme are "Richard Cory," about the ironic solitude of fame, and "I Am a Rock," about withdrawal from social contact after a harsh breakup. Even "Sound of Silence" is about a lost society of loners who ignore each other, and the most vulnerable among them, at their own peril.
Simon has been pegged "Mr. Alienation" for even addressing the issue of isolation, for even saying, "I am an island." This is unfair, because the conclusion he keeps reaching is that, as Donne wrote, "No man is an island."
Simon agrees that the other side of your floor is someone else's ceiling. There is no point to pretending you are not invloved, he insists. If you are human, you simply are.
Musical Note:
The descending, and low, piano notes that open the song were sampled by a British rap duo performing as Biss N Eso. Their track is called "Up Jumped the Boogie."
Simon included this track with a 1940's-esque jazz remix on his In the Blue Light album; it's the only song therein to which no changes were made to the lyrics, just the arrangement.
Next Song: American Tune
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Something So Right
This is a love song of the "I can't believe how lucky I am that an angel like you is with a mess like me" variety.
In the first verse, the speaker explains he is a mess because he is frantic with a "fever"-ish panic, and she douses that with "cool water." In case that isn't clear, he repeats that he was "in a crazy motion" and that she "calmed [him] down."
In the second verse, the speaker is a mess because he is emotionally closed off. While the speaker of "I Am a Rock" says: "I build walls deep and mighty/ That none may penetrate," that seems small next to the wall this speaker builds, which is "a thousand miles long" (the Great Wall of China is about 4,000 miles long, incidentally). Yet, she was able overcome these formidable defenses and "to get next to" him.
In the bridge, he talks about how "some people" can't bring themselves to say "I love you," let "long" to "be told" exactly that. Hmmm, who might one of those hypothetical "people" be? This is yet another way he is a mess.
The chorus adds a fourth: "When something goes wrong/ I'm the first to admit it." This certainly means he is willing to admit that something is awry or amiss. But while it doesn't say he also accepts responsibility for the problem, it sort of implies that he does.
Meanwhile, "When something goes right," he is so pessimistic that he he can't believe or accept that it did happen: "It's apt to confuse me/It's such an unusual sight."
He is so used to things going wrong, he "can't get used to something so right." He is so accustomed to disappointment that he can't acknowledge that something good has happened to him, and he can't trust that it will last.
So here we have an anxious, introverted, undemonstrative person with a tendency toward doubt... and self-doubt. No one can say this person is not self-aware-- even a bit self-critical.
Yet, this amazing woman felt he was still worth it, and stuck with him until he was able to trust and appreciate her. With this song, he thanks her and expresses his astonishment that she is with him at all, let alone still with him.
This song is the inverse of a song like "My Funny Valentine," in which the woman says what's wrong with the man, yet she still loves him. This might be his response, in which he says, "Me? You want me? My mouth is a little weak and my figure is less than Greek! You... sure? Wow! That's great!"
Musical note: A previous incarnation of this song is called "Let Me Live in Your City." The verses are the same, but the choruses, which have the same melody of the final version, have these lyrics:
"Let me live in your city
The river’s so pretty, the air is so fine
Let me room where I can lay over
I’m just a traveler eating up travelin’ time
I’m just a traveler eating up
My travelin’ time."
IMPACT: The song went to #7 on the UK charts. It is very popular among female singers. British songstress Annie Lennox covered it on her Medusa album. It was also covered by songbirds Barbra Streisand, Simon collaborator Phoebe Snow, and country singer Trisha Yearwood. Someone tell Adele.
Next Song: One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor
In the first verse, the speaker explains he is a mess because he is frantic with a "fever"-ish panic, and she douses that with "cool water." In case that isn't clear, he repeats that he was "in a crazy motion" and that she "calmed [him] down."
In the second verse, the speaker is a mess because he is emotionally closed off. While the speaker of "I Am a Rock" says: "I build walls deep and mighty/ That none may penetrate," that seems small next to the wall this speaker builds, which is "a thousand miles long" (the Great Wall of China is about 4,000 miles long, incidentally). Yet, she was able overcome these formidable defenses and "to get next to" him.
In the bridge, he talks about how "some people" can't bring themselves to say "I love you," let "long" to "be told" exactly that. Hmmm, who might one of those hypothetical "people" be? This is yet another way he is a mess.
The chorus adds a fourth: "When something goes wrong/ I'm the first to admit it." This certainly means he is willing to admit that something is awry or amiss. But while it doesn't say he also accepts responsibility for the problem, it sort of implies that he does.
Meanwhile, "When something goes right," he is so pessimistic that he he can't believe or accept that it did happen: "It's apt to confuse me/It's such an unusual sight."
He is so used to things going wrong, he "can't get used to something so right." He is so accustomed to disappointment that he can't acknowledge that something good has happened to him, and he can't trust that it will last.
So here we have an anxious, introverted, undemonstrative person with a tendency toward doubt... and self-doubt. No one can say this person is not self-aware-- even a bit self-critical.
Yet, this amazing woman felt he was still worth it, and stuck with him until he was able to trust and appreciate her. With this song, he thanks her and expresses his astonishment that she is with him at all, let alone still with him.
This song is the inverse of a song like "My Funny Valentine," in which the woman says what's wrong with the man, yet she still loves him. This might be his response, in which he says, "Me? You want me? My mouth is a little weak and my figure is less than Greek! You... sure? Wow! That's great!"
Musical note: A previous incarnation of this song is called "Let Me Live in Your City." The verses are the same, but the choruses, which have the same melody of the final version, have these lyrics:
"Let me live in your city
The river’s so pretty, the air is so fine
Let me room where I can lay over
I’m just a traveler eating up travelin’ time
I’m just a traveler eating up
My travelin’ time."
IMPACT: The song went to #7 on the UK charts. It is very popular among female singers. British songstress Annie Lennox covered it on her Medusa album. It was also covered by songbirds Barbra Streisand, Simon collaborator Phoebe Snow, and country singer Trisha Yearwood. Someone tell Adele.
Next Song: One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor
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