Rhymin Simon

I caught some of the Paul Simon special the other night on PBS. He won the first Library of Congress Gershwin prize for popular song, which of course was well deserved. His canon is extraordinary, and as a popular songwriter, he is distinctive and unique. The most illuminating comment came from his longtime friend and neighbor, Lorne Michaels, who spoke about just how hard Simon works to create his songs.

I found the concert absolutely awful, though, and it wasn't just Marc Anthony, who looks more and more like Steve Buscemi in Trees Lounge. James Taylor hacked his songs to pieces, in particular "Slip Sliding Away", which for some reason became Slipping Sliding Away for James. Lyle Lovett and Buckwheat Zydeco did a spirited version of "That Was Your Mother". Allison Kraus was great, and Ladysmith hasn't gotten any less fun since I saw them on tour a decade ago. The rest of what I saw passed rather blandly.

Simon, alas, doesn't seem to have changed much at all either. He was at pains to give Art Garfunkel a smidgen of respect, and after a quick: "here's my partner in argument" introduction, they worked through "Bridge Over Troubled Water" as if they were in different studios. Simon was much warmer with Joseph Shabalala then he was with Art, and they marched off stage coldly. Can it really be that bad, after 40 years? Does Simon still feel that Art got credit that he was due, for some strange reason? He came across as a petulant brat, to me.

The most revealing moment, I thought, was when Stevie Wonder took the stage. Simon's deference to Stevie is well documented, of course. When he accepted the Record of the Year honor for One Trick Pony, Simon thanked Stevie for not releasing an album that year. And it was no different at the Gershwin. Simon was even smaller than usual, stood towards the back and kept his eyes on Stevie the whole time. And it probably goes back to Lorne Michael's point. For Stevie, with the perfect pitch, and no real controlling influences, the music comes easy. Stevie is a well known perfectionist, and his refusal to release his albums without innumerable revisions is legend, but I bet that his muse comes easily. He riffs in everything he does, and sings like a true jazz singer, improvising each and every note. For Simon, it seems more like hard work, and although he is a perfect choice for the Gershwin award, and a formidable popular song writer, none of it comes naturally, and that eats away at him, just like the long forgotten Garfunkel feud does.