‘Miracle and Wonder: Conversations with Paul Simon’ by Malcolm Gladwell

This is the best use of the audiobook format. You listen to conversations held by Malcolm Gladwell and his colleague, journalist Bruce Headlam, with the legendary singer songwriter Paul Simon; you hear him talk about his creative process and share interesting tidbits along the way; you hear myths debunked from Gladwell’s trademark inquiries; you discover new personal insights. Above all, you can hear the music icon who had created many world famous tunes over his 65 year career, now at 80, pick up his guitar and sing his own songs or listen to the recordings that had made him and his singing duo Art Garfunkel a household name. And more, you can hear reflections from other influential musicians like Renee Fleming, Sting, Herbie Hancock… For me, this listening experience has opened the floodgate of reminiscence and memories.

A myth debunked. No, Simon didn’t write his breakout hit “The Sound of Silence” in the subway under hauntingly existential circumstances, but in the bathroom of his parents’ house. The walls were tiled and the water running, he played his guitar in the dark and could hear echoes. He was 22. That was all he remembers now. No matter, that tune and the lyrics had sent echoes to the heart and soul of millions around the world.

The inspiration of “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” came from a line in the Black Gospel singer Rev. Claude Jeter’s (1914-2009) song “Mary Don’t You Weep”–– it says “I’ll be a bridge over deep water if you trust in my name,” a Biblical metaphor. While the title and lyrics were sparked by Jeter’s Gospel song, the melody was inspired by J. S. Bach. Another interesting tidbit is that sound engineer Roy Halee reminisces that it took him more than 100 hours to make the recording of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” as they explored different mixes of sound effects. Simon notes that the song had rippled to many different stylings and sung by so many others that he doesn’t feel it’s his own anymore. And he’s fine with that. In particular, he pays tribute to Aretha Franklin’s soulful rendition.

A poignant moment. When the first “Saturday Night Live” came back on after the tragedy of 9-11, the producer called Simon and asked him to perform in his show. I think you have to do “The Boxer”, he said. An iconic New Yorker song, a fighter that carries the reminders of being struck down yet still remains with resilience and tenacity. In the audiobook, Simon recollects that he had tried to put words in the bridging stanza but none came and so he decided to just use “lie la lie…lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie la lie…” not knowing such wordless echoes would cross linguistic borders when live audience around the would join in spontaneously when he performed.

Where to locate Paul Simon? He refuses to be called a folk singer. His songs inspired by very different sources. His creative process often sparked by distant memories of tunes and rhythms. After the breakup with Garfunkel, he ventured into a musical fusion of cultures and stylings. Gladwell spends some time talking with Simon about how the song “Take Me to the Mardi Gras” came to be. There are at least five sources of creative contributions: the Black Gospel singer Claude Jeter, R & B musicians from Alabama, a New Orlean jazz brass band, Jamaica reggae, and plausibly, according to Gladwell’s instinct, a Yiddish riff. Such freedom to adapt different cultural roots in his compositions leads him later to his album “Graceland.”

Herein lies Gladwell’s sensibility, one I totally embrace and thanks to him, lays out in words the notion that has long lodged in my mind. Using Simon as an exemplar, a Jewish singer songwriter from Queens, NY, Gladwell says:

As a New Yorker, your cultural identity is something you get to hold loosely. It influences you, but it doesn’t define you. You’re free to roam and window shop and come up with your own combination.

The melting pot theory debunked––as attuned to Nathan Glazer’s social theory in Beyond the Melting Pot––well, at least in NYC during Simon’s early creative decades, this kind of freedom existed. But isn’t that a true requirement for one to be a global citizen, a member of our shared humanity, transcending ethnic borders and arbitrary barriers? Unfortunately, such a fluid cultural perspective has shifted in recent years to a narrow view demanding artists, writers, filmmakers… to stay in their cultural lane, to use Gladwell’s metaphor.

Another fascinating tidbit…wait till you get to where Gladwell links taste with memory when he talks about how Stephen Sondheim regrets that his lyrics in the “West Side Story” song “Maria” aren’t quite right, and then goes on to discuss with Simon about finding faults in his own compositions. BTW, “Homeward Bound” is Simon’s “Maria.”

Another issue Gladwell investigates is the mystery of longevity in the creative process, using David Galenson’s book Old Masters and Young Geniuses to compare and analyze why some artists hit their peaks as young prodigies while others are late bloomers, sustaining a long creative journey. Where to locate Paul Simon in this spectrum? I’ll leave that interesting topic for you to experience when you listen to this exceptional audiobook.

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Miracle and Wonder: Conversations with Paul Simon by Malcolm Gladwell and Bruce Headlam with Paul Simon, audiobook ©2021 Pushkin Industries and Paul Simon (P)2021 Pushkin Industries and Paul Simon

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Garfunkel In Calgary

The frizzy blond hair was still there, but the face belonged to a 65 year-old man.  What was gripping though, was the same soft, angelic, tenor voice that was unmistakenly … Garfunkel.  No, we didn’t buy a ticket to listen to the youthful folk singer we once knew, but what we’d purchased was an encounter, an experience, probably once in a lifetime, to see the iconic Art Garfunkel, the voice of our youthful past.

“Many a times I’ve been mistaken, and many times confused…” The haunting melody and the captivating lyrics of American Tune opened the concert.  The face might have changed, yes, a great deal, but the sound remained, and along with it, the soul-searching quietness once again overcame me.

The circumstances might have changed, but the sentiments linger…”After changes and changes, we’re more or less the same…after changes, we’re more or less the same.”

What followed were the satisfaction of listening to the original voice singing the familiar tunes of Homeward Bound, Scarborough Fair, and The Boxer.  What was regrettable, of course, was that we missed the harmonizing singing of the song creator, Paul Simon.

Backed by four talented band members, many of the familiar Simon and Garfunkel numbers had been re-arranged and improvisations added to make  new renditions of old tunes, allowing Garfunkel to perform as a soloist. The singer had stepped aside many times to let the band and each musician shine in the limelight.  Well, no matter how much it was altered, as soon as the audience recognized the introductory bars to such great classics as Mrs. Robinson, Bridge Over Troubled Water, and The Sound of Silence, unbridled excitement, cheers and applause would break out.  I’d noticed that for many in the Jubilee Auditorium tonight, the concert could well be a chance to savor a piece of their past, awaking them to some long forgotten youthful longings, idealism, and the yearning of a better world.  But what I didn’t understand was, why did those relatively young females in the audience jump to their feet, swaying, dancing and clapping to the tune of Cecilia?  How old were they when Simon and Garfunkel first sang that song?  I then realized that the work of the iconic duo transcends generations, their lyrics and melodies mesmerize audience of all ages.

Garfunkel also sang several of his newer titles, changing the mood of the concert hall with jazzy overtone, or moving into a more contemporary number written by Randy Newman.  But it was the Simon and Garfunkel songs that elicited the most applause, bringing the audience to a standing ovation several times.

At one point, the singer introduced a song by reading a prose poem from a collection of his own writing.  Here, I see Garfunkel the reader transformed into Garfunkel the writer.  The singer is known for his wide reading interest, which is impressively chronicled in the Garfunkel Library, a site that records the books he has read since 1968 up till 2006, almost a thousand titles in all.  Here in the concert, the singer shared his own writing with the audience, reading a prose poem from a collection of his published work, as an introduction to a song written also by himself.

The concert is part of a Green Planet Concert Series presented by the Pembina Institute, a national enviornmental organization.  The displays in the foyer outside the auditorium had raised awareness of wind power and other safe and sustainable energy solutions.  The sound and atmosphere inside had evoked reminiscence of mindscapes sustained by soul-searching melodies and lyrics.  A powerful evening inside out.

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