Leaves: Simon and Garfunkel: Leaves That Are Green

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As the theme generator, I fuss with the Blogger tools to check previously-used themes. I keep my own Excel file of used/unused themes which I try to keep up to date. [It's hard after 20 years]

That means decisions about <fall> or <autumn> or, this time, <leaves> as a substitute to fall, since that is the season.

That said, the first song that came to mind for the <Leaves> theme (considering my age and time-frame) was: Leaves That Are Green, a classic <folk> hit from the 60s that almost qualifies for "pop", but not rock.

The Simon and Garfunkel duo made millions (I trust) from their 60s albums that blurred the boundaries between "[pop] songs your Mom approved of" and the simultaneous raucous rock that was brewing underneath. Theirs was a kind of acceptable pathway to the inevitable cacophany of the latter half of the 70s: "Pop is not so bad/probably OK. If moderated."

I don't mean to take away from their later forays: Garkunkle's <My Home Town> has its high points and verges away from their <folk> format, to some extent.

Simon has done some very positive expositions of alternative [African] vibes - to everyone's benefit. But they [individually and combined] are generally relegated to a status less than they really deserve for what they have given/left us.

I cannot re-create the atmosphere of the mid-60s for you, a time filled with Motown, emerging Stones and Beatles, short-lived acts like Manfred Man, the Monekeys and more.
 
However, Simon and Garfunkel kept it up - both through the psychedelia (without going down that path) and then for at least another generation ... well a decade or two ..., each in their own way.

Leaves That Are Green .. somewhere between rock and the future ....

Simon & Garfunkel go back far enough that there are visual/video records of their first appearances, and there is one of their earliest <Leaves That Are Green> shows available online.

And .. summer moving into fall - we've got green going to brown.

Enjoy ...

Seasons: A Hazy Shade of Winter

Simon & Garfunkel: A Hazy Shade of Winter
[purchase]

I know we can write about any season, but it would seem strange to be writing about summer now, since it is cold, and we are in the middle of the winter holidays. Of course, south of the Equator, it is summer, but I don’t think we have any writers from that part of the world. Parenthetically, it is a little strange—and maybe one of the most obvious examples of how world culture is so dominated by the American/Northern European tradition—that even in those places where Christmas is celebrated in the warm weather, there seems to be no lack of pine trees (usually fake), snow (fake), stocking caps (unnecessary) and other wintery symbols in the iconography of the holiday.

So, winter it is, but not a holiday related song. Instead, we will discuss “A Hazy Shade of Winter,” a relatively early masterpiece written by Paul Simon, and performed by him with his erstwhile partner, Art Garfunkel, two nice Jewish boys from Queens.  It is hard to read Paul Simon lyrics without realizing how great they are. And he has been able to write music in so many styles, that it is sort of mind-boggling. Unlike many of his peers (and even those younger), he never rested on his laurels—famously experimenting with world music, before going all in on Graceland, and even collaborating with Brian Eno in his mid-60s (Eno is only a few years younger than Simon, but you have to admit that the pairing seemed a bit surprising—likely part of the reason that their album together is called Surprise).

“A Hazy Shade of Winter,” though, goes back to Simon’s days in England, in 1965, where he had gone to perform as a solo act when the first Simon & Garfunkel album flopped. But a remix of “Sounds of Silence” from that album, became a hit, and Simon returned to New York and Garfunkel, for their amazing run. “Hazy” was recorded for the Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme album in 1966, but failed to make the final cut.  It was released later that year as a successful single, and was included on 1968’s Bookends album.

By the standards of that period’s Simon & Garfunkel songs, it is almost Ramones-esque in its tempo and how it rocks, but the song's lyrics are really what stand out. You can almost see the young Paul Simon, who as a teenager had written and recorded hit songs, feeling exiled and failing in chilly mid-1960s London, writing a song about an unfulfilled artist—still in the “springtime of my life,” but drinking while thinking of his “manuscripts of unpublished rhyme.” Meanwhile, it is metaphorically, and maybe even actually, the time when autumn is turning to an uncertain winter:

Leaves are brown, now 
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter 

The narrator continues:

Hang on to your hopes, my friend 
That's an easy thing to say 
But if your hopes should pass away 
Simply pretend that you can build them again 

Oh, that is bleak, isn’t it? (Which makes me think of one of my favorite actual Christmas songs that would fit this theme, “In the Bleak Midwinter,” also mournful, but religiously so.)

Some of you slightly younger folks might know the song better from the excellent cover by The Bangles, which they had long performed live before recording it for the soundtrack to the pretty bleak 1987 movie Less Than Zero, scenes from which can be seen in this video:

Small Towns: My Little Town

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There is a lot of comfort in a small town: you know everyone/everyone knows you. I speak with limited authority, 'cause I lived in more than one - but for short times. Hamden, CT back in the '60s was a (relatively) small town. Yeah, I only lived there a year or so but the cops knew me pretty soon: I was the kid who set the empty lot on fire and went about deflating all the tires in the golf course parking lot. Small town stuff.

Back at my main place of residence, a couple of 1000 miles away from Hamden and a year or so later, the community was still pretty small. Again, people knew me (and my methods). These were the 60's - no need for Neighborhood Watch or Homeland Security methods. Everything was Small Town. Heck, the world in general was Small Town.

As for music, among the first 33 1/3 albums I acquired was Simon and Garfunkel’s Parsley Sage .... In retrospect I think my parents were pretty OK with this: not rock (but folk protest /Lite). Lots of harmony - kind of like the (parentally -approved) Kingston Trio. Little did my parents realize that the next few albums were to lead down dark alley-ways. ..maybe kinda like soft addictions lead you to hard addictions. First came the early Stones' Between the Buttons, followed by Sargent Peppers, followed shortly thereafter by Are You Experienced. You see? ... an evil path of no return. Classic case of the effects of soft leading to hard.

However, I digress. It's small towns and Paul Simon.

There was (and still is) something re-assuring/comforting about Paul Simon. Like small towns. Yes, he was on the (limited) edge of protest (sort of like Pete Segar). Yes, he skirted 60's rock, but he stayed "family friendly" - home town/small town.... never a real threat. (Ah... for those days...)
<My Little Town> comes after Simon and Garfunkel had parted ways (early 70's). Perhaps in some ways the songs chronicles some of the duo's realities: apparently, Paul Simon wasn’t too keen on relating this to anything personal (..."happy to get out of ..." small town, with Art Garfunkel more inclined to account for and share his past and any autobiographical aspect of the song.
Psychologies aside, the song lyrics lead us (today/without background baggage encumbrances) to see that:
And after it rains
There's a rainbow
And all of the colors are black
It's not that the colors aren't there
It's just imagination they lack
Everything's the same

Good comfort for thems that seek routine. Then again, the lyrics include no real praise for small towns in the end. "Nothin' but the dead and dying in my home town". Funny. I always heard it as "Nothing but the dead of night in my home town" until I looked up the lyrics.
Big cities for me ...

Roads/Streets: Bleecker Street

Jonatha Brooke: Bleecker Street (Simon & Garfunkel cover) [purchase]

Bleecker Street, the New York City East-to-West thoroughfare that gives this song its name - once known as a nexus of the American bohemian movement and now home to Marc Jacobs stores and an apparently still-hopping nightclub district - is unquestionably a touchstone of art and culture: home of CBGB and Cafe Wha?, where Hendrix, Dylan, Bill Cosby and Richard Pryor began their careers, it is name-dropped in lyrics by Joni Mitchell, Bruce Springsteen, Fred Neil, Iggy Pop, Paulo Nutini, Steely Dan, and the title of an opera which won its composer the Pulitzer Prize in music upon its release in 1955.

According to Wikipedia, is it also the home of Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum and the restaurant Woody Allen's character owned in the movie Sleeper (The Happy Carrot). More recently, it served as the inspiration and name for a line of bags from popular designer Coach. Pretty cool, for a single street.

I've never been to Bleecker Street, and to be fair, I'm not likely to have reason to do so any time soon, unless I suddenly decide I want to hang out at its upscale eateries, or ogle Alicia Keys as she walks out of her stately home in the Village. But I've lived this song, pulled from Simon & Garfunkel sleeper debut Wednesday Morning 3 A.M., where it stands as one of just four original songs from a duo whose career would go on to help define the street in the wake of The British Invasion.

Bleecker Street never charted, though I'd argue it's one of Simon's finest, simplest compositions, a love song to the down and out that chills the bones. But its the cover, by Jonatha Brooke, which we've chosen to share today. Brooke's version recaptures the sweet ache of the dissatisfied outsider that so typifies the work of this particular place and sound in the distance between her inimitable voice and its ringing, high-production contemporary production; it appears on Bleecker Street: Greenwich Village In The 60's, an appropriately titled "various artists" collection of tender tributes to the great songs first written, performed, and celebrated in and around Bleecker that comes highly recommended, with beauty galore from Ron Sexsmith, Suzanne Vega and John Cale, Loudon Wainwright, and others. I listen to the album often, but ultimately and inevitably come back to this cut for the way it gentrifies bohemia without aggression, even as it celebrates its past - and so it is ever thus, on street and in song.

Holiday Blues: Silent Night/7 O'Clock News

 

Simon & Garfunkel: Silent Night/7 O'clock News @ amazon mp3s

The end of the year holiday season brings a mix joy and sadness to many folk. It is the nature of this time of year that leads us to look back at the year behind us and forward to the year ahead.

Now, you can look either direction in joy or sadness, and there’s a benefit to each. One wouldn’t want to be the grasshopper all the time, nor the ant who knows nothing but work. It’s all in the balance.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme was one of the first 33 RPM LPs I owned – my music tastes at that time were as unfocused as they are today: a little of everything. We are talking 1966. Free Love. The Hippie culture. Major Civil Rights action was in the works in the US.  For Americans, the economy still seemed to promise a better future. On the other hand, we had the Vietnam War. Kind of like my music tastes: all over the place. Some up. Some down.

It's not 12-bar blues, but Silent Night/7 O’clock News gets right to the heart of the dichotomy, doesn’t it? The contrast between the ethereal, hopeful Christmas classic that extends the possibility of a better future and the downright depressing facts on the ground as presented in the evening news is sheer genius. Simple and effective. A steady, minimal piano backing and prominently sweet vocals - laced with a cuttingly dry newsreader voice-over.

I wonder if there is as much left to the audience’s interpretation of this song as we generally credit art with, or if it is masterfully directed to provoke a single given response. It certainly requires me to take a deep breath and push the images of the song behind me before I can look forward to the new year with joy and hope. And you don't need to watch any of the other image-laden versions to get the picture.

Getting There: America

Simon & Garfunkel: America (live bootleg, 1968)

[purchase studio version]

One of my big dreams is to one way travel coast-to-coast through the US, maybe in a camper van. At least in part, the seeds for that dream were planted many years ago by the Simon & Garfunkel’s “America”. Of course, the subjects of the song — Cathy and the singer — did not travel in a motor home, but by Greyhound bus (boarding in Pittsburgh, among the passengers is a “spy” in a gabardine suit whose bowtie is really a camera) and by thump, hitch-hiking from Saginaw. But by the time he starts counting cars on the New Jersey Turnpike, all the travelling seems to have become a bore. Which should put me in two minds about ideas of an itinerant journey across the USA.

This recording comes from the excellent Live At The Hollywood Bowl bootleg from 1968 (also known as Voices of Intelligent Dissent Bootleg, based on something Paul Simon says in response to an audience interjection after “Feelin’ Groovy”), which was engineered by Al Kooper. It seems likely that the concert at the Hollywood Bowl on 23 August 1968 was recorded for possible release (why else have Kooper engineer it?). In the end, it obviously wasn’t issued; indeed, no live album was released, except some tracks on the Greatest Hits collection, until the Concert In Central Park reunion gig more than a decade after Simon & Garfunkel had split.

This recording of “America” has an amusing introduction by Paul Simon about the recording of the Bookends LP, on which “America” originally appeared. But that sound at the beginning: is that Garfunkel burping?

Vocal Harmonies: Scarborough Fair/ Canticle

Simon and Garfunkel: Scarborough Fair/ Canticle

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The music of Simon and Garfunkel seems to me to be the obvious place to start a week devoted to vocal harmonies. Originally inspired by the doo-wop groups of the 1950s, Simon and Garfunkel also were aware of harmony as used in folk music, and I would say that the song I have chosen may also shows that they knew at least a little about classical music as well. Let me explain.

There are three schemes of vocal harmonies that come to my mind. In close harmony, the singers are together rhythmically, but they sing different notes to make chords. This is the basis for doo-wop, and it is found in the call-and-response parts in gospel music as well. Then there are rounds. Here, different voices sing the same notes at different times, and that is where the harmonies arise from. Johann Sebastien Bach took this type of harmony to its logical extreme in his fugues.

The third scheme is what Simon and Garfunkel did with Scarborough Fair/ Canticle. The song has a main melody, (in this case Scarborough Fair), and a counter melody, (in this case, a completely different song, Canticle). Counter melodies are fairly rare in pop music, so this was a daring choice for Simon and Garfunkel. The results in terms of reception are mixed. On the one hand, the song was a hit, and a little known folk song, Scarborough Fair, became famous. On the other hand, most people tend to forget about Canticle entirely, and most covers of Scarborough Fair omit the counter melody. Personally, I would never want to be without it. Simon and Garfunkel linked these two songs, and I can never hear one in my head without the other.

Parody and Satire: A Simple Desultory Philippic

Simon & Garfunkel: A Simple Desultory Philippic

Paul Simon: A Simple Desultory Philippic (Original Acoustic Version)

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Purchase original version

A Simple Desultory Philippic is a hilarious parody of the 60's and, more specifically, of Bob Dylan and his fans. Of this song, Paul Simon said, "This is, of course, a take-off, a take-on, a private joke, but no joke is all that private or any less serious for being a joke."

Dylan and his fans are most scathingly mocked in the middle section when Simon sings, in an obvious Dylan-esq whine, about a man who's "so unhip, when you say 'Dylan' he thinks you're talking about Dylan Thomas, whoever he was. The man ain't got no culture. But it's alright, Ma, everybody must get stoned!"

I think Simon keeps the parody at a humorous, as opposed to a personal or hurtful, level when he includes his own work in the list of things that he's sick of. "Been Roy Halee'd and Art Garfunkel'd."

Listen to the original version for alternate lyrics and a more mockingly authentic Dylan guitar riff.

For the Birds: Sparrow

Simon & Garfunkel: Sparrow

[purchase]

Pity the titular bird in this early Paul Simon song. Unloved by all, she dies, tired and hungry. Released on the first Simon and Garfunkel album, Wednesday Morning 3 a.m., the heavy-handed allegory shows a songwriter still refining his craft. Fortunately for us, greater things were to come from Mr. Simon.

And fortunately for me, the Swamp Sparrow in today's photo did find a comforting place to land and eat in an area not far from my home known as the Six Mile Run Reservoir Site (despite the lack of any actual reservoir). It's one of my favorite photos, not least because it was the first, and so far only, time I've encountered a Swamp Sparrow.

Hand Claps: Bye Bye Love

Simon & Garfunkel: Bye Bye Love

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When I was a young tyke in the early '70s, we didn't have much contemporary music in our home. My Mom liked Patsy Cline, and my Dad liked Glenn Miller.

But we did have Simon & Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water on 8-track. My siblings and I (I'm one of six) played that thing to death. While their version of "Bye Bye Love" was not one of my favorites from the album (I preferred "Baby Driver" for the sound effects and "Cecilia" for the crazy rhythm), it still embedded itself in my consciousness. Apparently, I'm not alone. Whenever I sing this song with other people, they invariably use the Simon & Garfunkel phrasing, rather than the Everly's.

The S&G version was recorded live in Ames, Iowa in 1969, and it's the audience who provide the enthusiastic hand claps throughout the song.

Morning: Through the Week Edition

Sometimes a week just gets away from you. Here it is Saturday, and I haven't had a chance to post anything yet. As I try to get out the door for a family gathering, I'll keep the yakking to a minimum and celebrate a week's worth of mornings.


The Move: Mist On a Monday Morning

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We'll start on Monday, with a dark bit of British psychedelia from The Move.


Badfinger: Sweet Tuesday Morning

[purchase]

On to Tuesday, with a somber-sounding songs with surprisingly upbeat lyrics from Badfinger.


Simon and Garfunkel: Wednesday Morning, 3AM

[purchase]

A song that would have been appropriate for last week's theme, too.


The Roland Kirk Quartet: April Morning

[purchase]

OK, here's where my conceit falls apart. I could not find a Thursday morning song, so I'll substitute "April Morning", since we're now in April, and the first of the month was a Thursday. Plus, all that introspective folkie stuff earlier in the week was getting a little old.


Chris Hickey: Friday Morn'

[purchase]

Some sad-but-resilient singer-songwriter Americana to finish out the work week.


Eels: Saturday Morning

[purchase]

It's the weekend! Time to rock out with the Eels.


The Velvet Underground: Sunday Morning

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There are several good Sunday morning songs, but this is one of my favorites.

Solitude: I Am a Rock

Simon and Garfunkel: I Am a Rock

[purchase]

The ultimate loner's anthem.

Friendship causes pain. Love causes tears. A fortress of imaginary walls and an armor made of the written word will keep the cold world away.

You're left to wonder what exactly has happened to the protagonist of this song that has led him to withdraw himself so much.

Rediscovered: Mrs. Robinson

Simon & Garfunkel: Mrs. Robinson

[purchase]

We've all probably heard this song hundreds of times. I know I have. My parents were fans. I've seen the The Graduate. I've had vinyl copies of Bookends and the Greatest Hits laying around in my LP collection since before CDs were invented. If asked, I'd happily admit that Mrs. Robinson is a "great" song, but it usually just flowed in one ear and out the other.

Until I heard it anew.

One night I uploaded a Simon & Garfunkel record to help me fall asleep. The next afternoon, while I was out walking my dog around the neighborhood, Mrs. Robinson shuffled to the surface. I don't know why, but for some reason it was like hearing the song for the first time. And it sounded...great.

What struck me was how many fantastic lyrics Paul Simon had crammed into one song. There were take-away lines hiding in every nook. While I'd heard them all before, and knew them by heart, I hadn't really listened in years.

Without even getting into the iconic chorus, here are some of the lyrics taken from the verses that really stood out to me as being clever, evocative, or especially nice sounding:

• We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files. We'd like to help you learn to help yourself.

• Look around you. All you see are sympathetic eyes. (Classic line.)

• Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home. (Nice internal rhyme.)
  

• Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes. (Nobody talks in such a redundant way, but it sounds great in the song.)

• It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair. Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids.

• Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon. (Nice alliteration.)

• Going to the candidates' debate. (Nice internal alliteration and rhyme.)

• Laugh about it, shout about it, when you've got to choose, every way you look at this, you lose.

Any one of these lines is a keeper. The fact that Paul Simon put all of them in one short song, not to mention Jesus and Joe DiMaggio, is pretty amazing stuff.

Green: Mixed Greens

Simon and Garfunkle: The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine

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Simon and Garfunkle are known for some wonderful songs, with poetic titles like The Sounds of Silence and Bridge Over Troubled Waters. But look at the track listings of the original albums, and you quickly realize one thing: it was the sixties, man. The title of this selection is a perfect example.

XTC: Green Man

[purchase]

XTC disappeared for seven years, before regrouping and releasing Apple Venus Volume 1 in 1999. After a second volume in 2000, the band broke up for good. Green Man shows that the breakup was not about any lack of musical inspiration.

Ian Siegal: Stranger Than a Green Dog

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The sixties saw an outpouring of fine British blues musicians. The emergence of Ian Siegal in recent years shows that the Britain continues to produce fine blues musicians to this day. They just aren’t as fashionable as they once were.

City Songs: Only Living Boy In New York

Simon & Garfunkel: The Only Living Boy In New York

[purchase]

OK folks, time for a new theme. City songs. Pretty self-explanatory. Just post a song about a city or with a city in the title.

If my No. 1 favorite Simon and Garfunkel song is America, then this one is No. 1-A. Favorite line: "I can gather all the news I need on the weather report."