There’s a strange, almost mythical image of folk duo
Simon & Garfunkel, one which I used to share until I began going through
their discography – it’s of a quiet, unassuming pair from (mostly upper-class) Forest
Hills, New York that comprised of one guy (Paul Simon) strum-humming about
marbles and promises while the other (Art Garfunkel) rocked back and forth on a
petit stool with a vacant expression, occasionally singing a word or two. This
particular image, I am glad to say, was more or less broken by the time I sat
through Sounds of Silence (1966) and
was completely shattered after listening to and digesting their fourth studio album
Bookends, released in 1968.
Cultural champions after the providing the soundtrack for
the film The Graduate in 1967, Simon
& Garfunkel shortly returned to the studio to complete additional recording
for their upcoming album. On the surface, Bookends
appears to continue the duo’s tradition of packing Simon-penned acoustic
pieces around pushed singles (in this case, “Mrs. Robinson”) but the album is
really a story in two parts – these are purposefully separated by Side A and
Side B. The album’s first half could be loosely described as a concept piece,
covering themes of birth, life and death in 60s America, and the second half is
mostly Simon flexing his newly acquired influences, and doing so much better
than on the largely forgettable preceding effort Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme from 1967.
Beginning with the brief, breezy acoustic “Bookends
Theme”, the album truly announces itself with “Save the Life of My Child”, opening
with a surprisingly thick, ethereal moog synthesiser, completely breaking
tradition from the pair’s previous releases. The duo break the mould even
further, as additional sounds and voices flood the aural atmosphere, from
distorted synths to snippets of “The Sound of Silence” (released two years
prior) complete with almost ghostly wails while Simon sings the refrain “Save
the life of my child / Cried the desperate mother”. Showing just how far Simon
had come as a songwriter, the track is a greater reflection on particular
attitudes within American society at the time, depicting a boy who is on the
verge of plunging to his death, and rather than assisting him the adult
population instead blame his actions on drugs and a lack of respect.
Following a smooth transition, “America” is perhaps the
first indication in Bookends of Simon’s
growing admiration for British music, featuring drum fills that
sound like they were pulled straight from The Beatles’ “A Day in the Life” (courtesy
of legendary Wrecking Crew session musician Hal Blaine) along with psychedelic-tinged
keyboards and incessantly pleasant double-tracked acoustic guitar, all providing
a backdrop for vocal harmonies by the pair which range from soft and airy to
emphatic and prolonged. It’s the first song with a real and distinctive sense
of character that the pair had recorded, pulling in a range of influences but
not really sounding like anybody
else. The next track does sound like
Simon & Garfunkel however, but not completely – “Overs” is a bare, pure
acoustic piece which separates the two’s vocal duties, including a verse of
Garfunkel singing solo, which is a rarity to hear. A sombre number, the track
deals with a sort of helplessness and inevitability that usually accompanies a
dying relationship, in this case being Simon’s lover Kathy Chitty, who was
earlier referenced in “America”. Then there’s “Voices of Old People”, a track
that has me completely stumped as to why it was included – it’s literally two
minutes of recordings that Garfunkel had made, interviewing elderly people from
(I’m assuming) his neighbourhood. I can appreciate what they were both trying
to accomplish here, as the whole ‘concept’ approach (thanks Sgt. Pepper’s) was all the rage in 1968,
but leading in from the superb “America” and “Overs”, it disrupts the flow of
the album, acting as a bizarre and unnecessary segue into the sentimental, dreamy
acoustic ballads “Old Friends” and “Bookends”.
Kicking off Side B, “Fakin’ It” is evidence that Simon also
found a lot to like in particular strands of American popular music, in this instance
borrowing heavily from the psychedelic-folk sounds of Love’s Forever Changes, making use of a strong,
recurring acoustic riff as well as handclaps and brief, otherworldly bursts of
horns and strings. A track that is littered with aspects of British
psychedelic-pop, “Punky’s Dilemma” is a finely crafted happy-go-lucky piece that includes lines like “I wish I was an English muffin / ‘Bout to make
the most of a toaster / I’d ease myself down / Coming up brown / I prefer
boysenberry / Than any other jam”, and is really just Simon tipping his hat to
groups like Small Faces and The Zombies in a very appropriate and charming way.
Undoubtedly the album’s biggest audience puller, the endearing, folk-pop staple
“Mrs. Robinson” is still a classic track, one that has probably been most associated
with the pair, and deservedly so. Originally titled “Mrs. Roosevelt” but
reworked to fit the narrative of The
Graduate, the upbeat sing-a-long nature of the song belies Simon’s lyrics,
who pines for the loss of American icons and role models, as well as being disillusioned
with the political climate in the late 60s – “Going to the candidates’ debate /
Laugh about it / Shout about it / When you’ve got to choose / Every way you
look at it you lose”. A chart-topper through and through, “Mrs. Robinson” hit
#1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1968 and later earned the pair a Grammy, in the
form of Record of the Year. The album’s last pairing; “A Hazy Shade of Winter” and
“At the Zoo” encapsulate the very nature of Bookends,
or at least its second half, with the former imbuing the same driving, cheery
vibe as “Mrs. Robinson” and the latter signing the album off by superbly balancing
soft, quiet acoustic passages with verses in the style of a children’s song, and
an incredibly infectious one at that.
With only a few glaring shortcomings, Bookends is a delightful offering of
folk-pop, sure the vague concept in the album’s first half isn’t particularly
well orchestrated, but the individual songs (not interview recordings) are still melodic, brilliantly
composed and meticulously arranged. Not bad for a pair that I once thought of
as guys that sat on stools and hummed a bit. Along with Sounds of Silence and their last studio album Bridge Over Troubled Water, it’s basically essential listening for
anyone who, like myself not long ago, don’t exactly rate Simon & Garfunkel
or aren’t aware of their true musicality – chances are your image may be
shattered too, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
B+
-Karl
