What does it sound like?:
I’ve been listening to this album on heavy rotation recently, so I thought it was worth singing its praises on here (despite the fact I’m probably just preaching to the converted).
I have to admit it’s one of my formative albums (i.e. it would get played endlessly in the car by my mum and dad when I was wee) along with Peter, Paul and Mary, Godspell, Sgt Pepper and the best of Bread. Among these peers, Rhymin’… stood out instantly by having a cheeky mild swearword in its opening line, which thrilled me as an impressionable five year old. Never a rebel outwardly, in my private rebellious head I still love to cling to the pithy dismissal of my own entire education as “all the crap I learned”.
So, as I heard Rhymin’… over and over when I was at the right age, I’m pretty much hard-wired to love it.
But, seriously, what’s not to love? From the days when an album was 35 minutes long, this is a delicious package of ten little songs wrapped up in a wonderful Milton Glaser gatefold cover. (You may never have heard of Milton Glaser, but his influential crisp “pop-art-with-a-small-p” style permeates the post-sixties visual landscape, from the endlessy copied “I {heart} NY” logo to that instantly recognisable Dylan poster).
So, the music…
Paul Simon, throughout his entire career, was always in thrall to the doo-wop and early rock and roll sounds that were clearly a big part of his teenage years. And that influence is in full effect here. He even gets an old (“old” in 1973 terms meaning “were popular more than ten years ago”) gospel harmony group The Dixie Hummingbirds to provide a lush vocal backdrop on a few songs.
But, as retro as the influences are, this album wouldn’t work without being built on a foundation of a tasteful and relentlessly modern soundscape. The album credits read like a who’s who of 70s studio cream: David Spinozza on guitar, Quincy Jones doing string arrangements, Paul Griffin on piano… Phil Ramone, Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section, Columbia Studios… This is one hell of a luxurious, expensively produced LP.
None of that would be worth anything, however, were it not for Simon’s songcraft. The seventies are littered with excellently produced and well intended schmaltz, and Simon stands tall with the unmatched wit and sharpness of his best songs. It’s almost like the sixties were a dry run for him – he tried the folk musician thing, now he’s found his true muse.
The “pop” songs are infectious enough, from the driving Kodachrome to the gospelly One Man’s Ceiling Is Another Man’s Floor (GREAT titles, one and all). The Caribbean accent on the Calypso-influenced Was A Sunny Day is maybe a step too far, although he’s clearly approaching it from a position of love and respect for that type of music.
But as I’ve grown older it’s the “soppy” songs which have stuck with me. Something So Right has some of those killer lines that only Simon can create and deliver with the appropriate sense of yearning… “When something goes wrong, I’m the first to admit it but the last to know… When something goes right, it’s likely to lose me, it’s out to confuse me because it’s such an unusual sight…” I can’t think of any other songwriter who elevates trite sentiment to pure poetry so well just by the force of his delivery and a few well-place rhymes. Rhymin’ Simon indeed.
Something So Right is also notable for its use of a typical Simon lyrical trick – that of filling out the song with the exploration of a metaphor (or maybe it’s a simile… I can never tell the difference): “They got a wall in China a thousand miles long…. I got a wall around me that you can’t even see…” I love this stuff. He’s been using this trick for years, from the animal comparisons in At The Zoo (“The monkeys stand for honesty”) to that Wristband (in the song of the same name) which stands for poverty and social exclusion and without which you “can’t get in the door”.
St Judy’s Comet can be labelled “mature” because it’s a song about being a dad. The lyrics are classic Simon wit (“If I can’t sing my boy to sleep, it makes your famous daddy look so dumb”), but the true strength of the song is the achingly perfect arrangement, a silky Rhodes piano and understated, metronomic drumming weaving through one of those trademark Simon fingerpicking patterns. Never did an acoustic guitar sound better and more shimmering than when pressed on to vinyl in the peak audiophile era of ’69 – ’73.
I could go one about each individual song, but instead I’ll just finish by mentioning the stone cold masterpiece of the album at the start of side two. American Tune’s cold stateliness and circular melody signal the fact Simon nicked the tune from Bach, but the vocal delivery and lyrical content betray a warm heart.
What is he actually singing about in American Tune? It sounds vaguely political, and apparently he has hinted that it is a veiled attack on Nixon, but like the best songs it doesn’t really have to be explicit or transparent. It’s undeniably about a sense of “America” as a concept, but he’s not writing an essay here so he can afford to be gnomic. Constantly swaying between feelings of tiredness (“trying to get some rest”, “I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered”) and regret (“I wonder what went wrong”), he seems to be trying to sum up the modern American experience, the struggle of trying to forge an aspirational society but with the historical weight of bloodshed and slavery behind him. That Simon can sum all this up with conciseness (while still rhymin’) is proof of his songwriting mastery.
American Tune briefly soars, figuratively and prosaicly, in both lyric and arrangement, when the pace picks up in the dreamy bridge section, as our narrator hallucinates that his soul flies away smiling and joins the Statue of Liberty in floating away from the ugly, earthbound America and (presumably) into the actual American Dream. In true Paul Simon fashion, however, we come back down to earth in the final, pessimistic verse.
File it with American Pie and After The Goldrush, oblique odes to the death of the sixties dream.
After such depths, it’s a relief to end on a note of joy. Loves Me Like A Rock is a simple, upbeat, finger-clicking tune, with the Dixie Hummingbirds in full effect.
What does it all *mean*?
I think of this as “soft” music. It’s warm and inviting rather than edgy and rebellious. But soft music can still have a killer touch.
Goes well with…
Sitting with an acoustic guitar and trying to play along.
Release Date:
1973
Might suit people who like…
Steven Stills, Neil Young, James Taylor, George Harrison…. You know the type. Earnest young men in the seventies.
Carl says
What does Kodachrome mean to anyone under 30 though?
Nice retrospective though.
Moose the Mooche says
“When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school
It’s a wonder I can think at all”
– Brilliant opening lines and relevant to anybody from any generation, any time. You can probably find the same idea in Plautus.
Carl says
I was referring to Kodachrome film, rather than the lyrical content.
The film camera, as noted below, being a thing of the past.
Arthur Cowslip says
It’s solely due to that song i STILL cant help pronouncing Nikon as Nigh-kon.
Moose the Mooche says
Also – young people spend hours and hours trying to get the perfect selfie, so the song’s premise about photographs presenting a beautiful lie about life is entirely resonant for Johnny Millennial.
Have hipsters brought Kodachrome back? It’s now very expensive and inconvenient, so they’re bound to like it.
Vulpes Vulpes says
I’m told that the two half decent SLRs in my garage loft are now worth about 4 times what I would have got for them if I’d sold them 5 years ago. But it still wouldn’t be enough to pay for an equally decent DSLR. So I’m holding out for the post-digital age, when they will be on Antiques Roadshow, causing gasps and sharp intakes of breath.
dai says
Have to say I can’t really love his 70s efforts. There’s plenty to admire in both lyrics and tunes but I just don’t connect in a way that moves me or gets me jumping around the room. Too nice. Now Graceland, that’s an album….
Vulpes Vulpes says
Absolute belter of a review Arthur; I’ll be digging it out to give it another blast right here later on this evening – it’s one of my favourites too.
I was 18 when this gem came out, a veteran of the S&G Greatest Hits under the arm “me I’m a sensitive bloke, I like Carly and Carole too” phase of male teenage angst in the conflicted early 70s. Along with Jackson Browne and James Taylor, the singer-songwriter landscape was then littered with emerging talents, and Paul Simon was (and still is) a prince amongst them.
Twang says
Ditto, a great pal of mine loved this stuff which I automatically branded as “wimpish” until I tried to play those guitar parts, then with new found respect I became a convert and love them to this day.
Arthur Cowslip says
He’s one of those underrated guitarists where it isn’t initially apparent how good he is. His Angi (or Anji) is less flashy than Bert Jansch or Davy Graham, but is in a class of its own.
Moose the Mooche says
I remember Artie saying, in that very earnest way he has, “I have never made love with Paul, but I should think he is a very good lover, just going on how he handles a guitar”. A startling way of putting it (so to speak) but the point is made (ditto)
Twang says
I learned to play Anji from his version and worked backwards to Bert and Davy and they’re all different. Bert added in the quote from “Work song” which Paul made more dramatic and added a couple of cool chord changes I’ve never quite got right.
I love this, where he does it as a duet with his little brother…
https://youtu.be/nKbiCTlYwRw
Vulpes Vulpes says
Magic. Day Tripper quote at 3:11 too!
Arthur Cowslip says
What???? Paul Simon has a brother who looks almost exactly like him and also plays guitar?? They could have been the Proclaimers of the sixties!
Vulpes Vulpes says
An ah wud drive ma vee-ate Chevy 500 miyuls, an ah wud drive ma vee-ate Chevy fife hundrud more, jus tae be the man who drove huz vee-ate Chevy a thowsand miyuls tae fall doon at yer dour.
Arthur Cowslip says
I’m totally blown away by this revelation. They almost look like twins. There must be a massive amount of jealousy and resentment on his brother’s part – “What has he got that I haven’t??”
I wonder if his brother ever tried to have a music career of his own? Going to google this now….
Arthur Cowslip says
From AllMusic – brilliant!….
***
“The younger brother of singer/songwriter Paul Simon, Eddie Simon chose a somewhat different route to musical expression, more or less dictated by his musical abilities, which manifested themselves very early in life. By all accounts a much more natural musician than his more famous sibling, the younger Simon was proficient on guitar — and was learning classical technique — while Paul Simon was still trying to find an instrument to adopt as his own and settled on the guitar. A near dead-ringer for his brother both physically (he was reportedly mobbed for photos on several occasions by people mistaking him for Paul) and as a singer and musician, Eddie Simon emerged quietly before the public in a background capacity, working behind the scenes for Simon & Garfunkel on their later tours. In 1967, he was also appearently involved in the initial formation of the folk-rock group Wings, which was comprised of ex-Spanky & Our Gang member Oz Bach and latter-day Serendipity Singers alumna Pam Robins — Simon had been replaced by Jim Mason by the time the group became fully organized and began recording, however. During 1968, he was involved with a group called the Guild Light Cage, who recorded a single of “The 14th Annual Fun And Pleasure Fair” b/w “Cloudy” — the latter a Paul Simon song — during their history together. In the 1970’s, Simon established himself as a successful guitar teacher in New York through the Guitar Study Center, and was reportedly involved in the radio business as well; he has also turned up in various documentaries by and about Simon & Garfunkel and Paul Simon, as well as in various feature articles about his brother’s career.”
attackdog says
‘fall’? ‘faw’, please.
bigstevie says
What do you call a Scotsman, with one foot in the door and the other still outside?
Hamish.
Arthur Cowslip says
What do you call a Scotsman who has lost his pet? Douglas.
fentonsteve says
Lovely review, and lovely that it was written out of sheer enthusiasm.
Are you reading, review remoaners?
Lodestone of Wrongness says
I LOVE reviews like this, you know born out of love or in some cases even hate ie PASSION. What I really really dislike (contd p94)
chiz says
I don’t get it. Is the six CD extended remastered exclusive remix gatefold collectors’ edition signed bluray presentation box out on Friday, or not?
Arthur Cowslip says
No. I’m proud to say I was reviewing a scratchy 46 year old slab of vinyl that only lasts 35 minutes and you have to turn it over halfway! And the sleevenotes are non-existent so I had to check Wikipedia for a few back up facts!
Moose the Mooche says
Music without sleevenotes? Afterworders are struggling to understand how this works.
You’ll be telling us there’s no marbles next.
duco01 says
I’m sure your 46-year-old slab of vinyl still sounds pretty good, Mr Cowslip.
I, on the other hand, have an early CD copy of “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon.” And the sound is shite.
Gary says
My favourite song on that album isn’t on that album. It’s on 2004 reissue and it’s the bonus track acoustic demo of Take Me To The Mardi Gras.
Arthur Cowslip says
Still never heard the extended album. Will need to have a listen one day.
Tiggerlion says
I love this album, considering it to be a pinnacle of human achievement. However, I prefer its predecessor, the one with Mother And Child Reunion, his second album called ‘Paul Simon’, his first after splitting up with Art. I find it warmer, more intimate, less dry. Listening to it is like sitting down with an old friend. There is nothing as perfect American Tune but neither is there a Was A Sunny Day aberration.
I’ll go and listen to both now. Thanks, Arthur.
dai says
Isn’t his first solo album “The Paul Simon songbook”?
Tiggerlion says
Yes. I think you are correct & I’m not.
dai says
First time for everything..
Lemonhope says
Great album. Great artist. Listening now 😊
I even like Was A Sunny Day
Moose the Mooche says
American Tune is the only example I can think of of a songwriter consciously doing a kind of State Of the Nation address and it actually working as a song. As so often with PS, the key to its greatness as a record is the quality of his voice – embodying an inimitable mix of melancholy, hope and warmth that you find in so many of his songs from For Emily to Rewrites.
God bless that good, good man.
Arthur Cowslip says
His voice is definitely one of his strongest attributes. I didnt even get round to talking about that!
Neela says
“Pure pop for now people”, to quote another master songwriter. This and Paul Simon (the album) is Simon’s pop peak.
Great review!
Feedback_File says
That’s a great review – full of love and enthusiasm for the subject that makes me want to go and play the thing right now. Paul Simon is just a masterful writer and whilst some artists are praised for sounding effortless, Pauls songs are showcases for his hard work and finely tuned song craft.
SteveT says
Lovely review. Paul Simon. is perhaps my favourite artist – the only album he did that I don’t care for is Songs from the Capeman.
I agree with @Tiggerlion though – the predecessor to this is better and so too the one after – Still crazy after all these years.
Arthur Cowslip says
I think right up until Rhythm Of The Saints he was at the absolute top of his game.
I seem to remember Hearts and Bones was a bit of a flop at the time, which just seems bizarre.
Feedback_File says
Terry Wogan’s favourite album apparently
dai says
Until Graceland he was selling fewer and fewer albums as earnest singer/songwriter stuff was well out of fashion. He reinvented himself with his best album (in my opinion).
bang em in bingham says
Fab review…I’m off for another listen……cheers
Arthur Cowslip says
My work here is done!
NigelT says
Thanks Arthur – I bought this when it came out as I loved American Tune and it still sends shivers down my spine when he sings how his soul ‘rose unexpectedly’. Every note is so familiar, it is one of those albums that is almost literally part of me. Live Rhymin’ is pretty damn fine also, except for the version of Sound Of Silence and Jesus Is The Answer which regularly got skipped!
Paul Simon session ahoy today methinks…
duco01 says
I like album covers where there’s one illustration/photo dedicated to each song.
See also the inside triple-gatefold inside cover of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” and also Billy Bragg’s “Don’t Try This At Home”.
Billybob Dylan says
It was great review of a great album. Of Simon’s solo stuff, I only have this, his greatest hits and One Trick Pony, because I love Late In the Evening. Graceland never did much for me.
Tiggerlion says
Try Paul Simon.
Moose the Mooche says
Try the 1993 Anthology, one of the great two-disc compos. Great live version of Born at the Right Time.
Billybob Dylan says
I will. Thanks for the tips!
Junior Wells says
Reviews of albums we love, done well are excellent. This is one of them.
Still Crazy is my favourite pre Graceland. But all are excellent. Such a pro the lyrics and the metier are always bang on.
Bargepole says
Haven’t listened to this for many a long year but this excellent piece has convinced me to dig it out for a listen over the upcoming holiday period.
Sebastian Toombs says
Thank you Arthur, for all the reasons that others have already described. I hope you dip into your collection of old vinyl again very soon.