Still crazy about Paul Simon after all these years

When you’re an English major, you maintain this false aura of infallibility about your writing. I certainly know I experience it. You feel that if you can write an essay, then you can write a poem. If you can write a sonnet, then a press release can’t be too far off. You’ve received accolades on one specific mode of writing, say a rhetorical writing prompt, and you leap from it with the same confidence only Donald Trump must have to go out in public with that hair and try to run for president. Following this logic, I confess I am guilty of this syndrome. Today, with my undergraduate focus in post-Modern literature, I will attempt to write a concert review.

Last night, I went with my boss to see Paul Simon at the DAR Constitution Hall. Move over Arlo Guthrie—I’m here to argue that Paul Simon is the definition of Americana. He and his pal Artie from some decades past lifted the country’s spirits during Vietnam and relaxed us with sweet songs of bed-hopping Cecilia and Emily dressed in crinoline. While Paul Simon of today still embodies that melodious vibe of guitar, this concert was anything but relaxing.

I must confess I didn’t know much of Paul Simon’s newer music before the concert. One of his newer songs, “So Beautiful or So What” has a soulful, ironic tone that would have made O. Henry weep in creative jealousy. To me, it accurately depicts the human condition with the lines “Aint it strange the way we're ignorant/ How we seek out bad advice/ How we jigger it and figure it/ Mistaking value for the price”. Bravo Paul Simon, you’ve gotten me to self-loathe again in the most enjoyable way possible.

Paul  performed with seven to nine people at any time on stage with a variety of instruments. I definitely picked up on a very tribal, soulful feel from his songs and it sounded like a different Graceland than I remembered ripping from the CD years ago. Even one of my favorite classics of his, “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” reminded me of a luau. Each player had various solos throughout the night and there was lively audience dancing and participation. I didn’t expect that and probably should have worn better dancing shoes if I expected Paul Simon to turn into a dance party. “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” was especially energetic and the hordes of slightly older than middle aged Long Island Jews in my vicinity had serious moves.

Paul left for a brief break and came back to an encore of a solo acoustic “The Sound of Silence” that still gives me goose bumps when I think back on his performance. “Kodachrome” was lively and brought the audience to their feet once again. Surprisingly, Paul covered the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun” to resounding applause. I wonder what Paul McCartney would think about this, but then I remember he has a young, hot fiancé to occupy him. I had to leave before he finished his set, but if they were anything like the rest of his songs, I know that it would not be a disappointment.

Overall, I have to admit that Paul Simon exuded a very palpable energy to the crowd. I attribute this not just to his lore as an amazing singer and songwriter, but to his spectacular musical cohorts and stunning visual displays. While I’ve never seen him in concert before, it was to me a different Paul Simon than I’m used to on my iPod playlist. If you expected a chill, folksy concert, this wasn’t it. While I didn’t smoke any J’s, when I come back to the room, everybody just seemed to move, and Paul just turned my amp up loud and began to play. It was late in the evening, and he blew the Constitution Hall away.

Edit:

The worst part of a concert is trying to hold onto that magical, musical feeling after you leave the venue. Luckily, when your roommate is himself magical and musical, this concern is no longer valid. I came home from the DAR and was greeted by the dulcet bluegrass tones of Alex on our back porch, jamming with his buddies Russ and Pierce. I wanted to establish my music street cred, so I started to brag about the concert. They all were inspired, either by my excellent descriptions, the sheer name drop of Paul Simon or the beer, and thus the concert was brought back. It started with the recognizable strumming of ‘The Boxer’. After an extended round of ‘la la la’s, Pierce broke off into my favorite Paul Simon tune, ‘Duncan’. I relate to this one because of its glorification of New England and losing your virginity in the woods. Just kidding Mom. The jam moved on to ‘America’, and some other songs from Bookends. Here was the steady, calming Paul Simon (with a sprinkle of Garfunkel) that I love. It was what I was used to, and while the concert was dazzling, a jam session among friends really makes you feel at home. Time it was, oh what a time it was.