#425: Paul Simon, ‘Paul Simon’
COLUMBIA, 1972
Two things:
Paul Simon is one of our best songwriters and creative minds
If I met Paul Simon at a party, we would not be friends.
Let’s address these assertions starting with his genius. He bends genre and creates unforgettable and moving melodies making him a pillar of American music and cultural criticism. Although awards are a silly way of measuring someone’s capabilities (because the award givers come from various experiences and perspectives that make the award completely subjective), I list only a few of his to prove I am not a lone admirer.
Paul Simon:
Won two Brit Awards
Won 12 Grammys, three being for Record of the Year and two being for Album of the Year (Nominated for 16 additional Grammys)
Recipient of the 2005 Kennedy Center Honors
Winner of the 2007 Library of Congress Gershwin Prize
The album, ‘Paul Simon,’ is his first solo venture after his bitter split with his lifelong musical partner, Art Garfunkel. Critics knew the album would be full of strong songs but they had no idea if Paul Simon had the star power required for a long solo career without Art’s vocals. Listeners were relieved when they heard Paul’s gentle voice perfectly carry his stories of middle-aged America reconciling moments of regret and mediocrity. No one missed Garfunkel’s strong voice, because Paul Simon’s storytelling was stronger. Paul Simon did not need Art Garfunkel.
This specific album won the Stereo Review’s Record of the Year award, went #4 on the US Billboard charts upon release, and was certified platinum.
He experiments with reggae, Latin rhythms, and other world music influences and twists them into a style that is perfected in the song Me and Julio Down By The Schoolyard.
I remember the first time I heard Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard. I was in grade school and I remember thinking – this song is real life! It was a revelation that songs were not just about love and mystical feelings and playful magic but were made up of the real stuff – real stories, real people.
Now, let’s discuss my more unhinged take, my 0% chance of friendship with Mr. Simon. In all things, Paul Simon consistently makes his entitlement clear. His interviews and his relationships (ie all of them…especially Edie Brickell and their court hearing of domestic violence where she takes the blame entirely) are reminiscent of the Dustin Hoffman character in The Graduate - a man embodying a listless wandering sadness in the shadow of immense privilege and intelligence that somehow makes it okay for him to act like a real jerk.
We see examples of this when he crossed picket lines to record Graceland, he ripped off backing musicians, stole a female musician’s album concept…and the list goes on.
All of this is justified in his perceived “genius.” It seems the result made the process worth it for most critics. I find that gross, pretentious, and entitled. I repeat, we would not be friends.
So what do we do with that? Can I still enjoy his music even if I don’t like him? The resounding answer is, Yes.
Influencer culture has made it confusing for us to allow products and content to stand on its own. As consumers, we sit in a holding pattern of determining quality based on whether we like the seller or not. Likeability somehow informs the quality of a product and therefore the integrity of the process. Do we like that person? If it’s a yes, then we trust the product to be high quality. We trust the creator to create something worthwhile.
Can we picture ourselves hanging out with them? If the answer is no, then in our minds the creator becomes unreliable and untrustworthy. The product is then faulty and cheap.
It is especially dangerous when we inflate likeability into relatability. We make up a mob of self-absorbed consumers. When we like someone we find ways that we are similar to them. Our perceived similarity might be why we like them in the first place or perhaps, on an even more sinister note, we think the creator is cool and we delude ourselves into thinking we are the same. When we digest our chosen celebrity’s content, our egos are fed as we feel that we would create the same thing if given the chance. Our instincts are validated.
Taylor Swift is likable to a specific demographic. Her fanbase sees themselves in her. Therefore everything she does is good even if the quality does not always match.
On the flip side, I spent years not listening to Taylor Swift because she felt like a mean girl to me. It was easier to discredit her entire songwriting capabilities because she was “unlikeable.”
It is simpler to live this way, but it is not healthier for our minds. There are plenty of unlikeable people who are perfectly trustworthy and good at what they do. When applied, this feels uncomfortable. It requires nuance.
Taylor Swift is a good songwriter. Paul Simon is a good songwriter. There is no reason why their divisive personalities should take away from the gravity of their creativity and work ethic.
Imperfect and bleeding souls create those things that break our hearts and remind us that we are not alone in our tragedy. They remind us of the futility of our life’s patterns and the complicated motivations we move through.
So what do we do with this information? I think we keep listening to Paul Simon in gratitude that he continues to make such wonderful music. We can also learn from his mistakes while we platform artists who have been taken advantage of by him.
There is a line in platforming predators like P. Diddy (and many, many others). I am not always sure what the line is but I am trying to reprogram my brain to look at art as an independent thing. I want to judge something by its quality and not the annoying traits of its imperfect creator.
So don’t mind me while I listen to Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard for the umpteenth time and bop around my neighborhood thinking about the Chicano Power Movement.
Top songs: Mother and Child Reunion, Everything Put Together Falls Apart, Me and Julio Down By The Schoolyard
100% agree. He is slimy but his music is sublime, and it’s okay to believe both!