We originally planned this blog as being an all-purpose one-stop shop for politics, culture, art, philosophy, and local happenings in the Central Michigan University community. Unfortunately, our balance has shifted heavily to the local, state, and national level of poltics. Although important, we seek to form a well-rounded ball of information. The readers of State of Nature have a credit to redeem, and we are ready to oblige.
In my view, rarely is there a ‘good music album being released nowadays. Until there is, we at State of Nature will stick to reviewing and recommending albums that have been released in the past. Hopefully these reviews will be of albums that readers are not familiar with so that they will be duly influenced by our thoughts.
Today, I will review Surprise by Paul Simon, a 2006 release. His newest endeavor is a breath of air in the current landscape of Nickelback modern rock, silly-ass Fergie pop, and blunts, bitches, and forties rap. Note: I am completely, unashamedly biased against much (though certainly not all) of the popular music of the day.
Paul Simon is truly an artist of our time. Well, not perhaps our time, if you consider album sales to be the determinate of that characteristic. Simon, 68% of the wonderful duo Simon and Garfunkel (he wrote all the songs, played guitar, and sang), has had a long, distinguished career peppered with Grammys and platinum albums.
At his age (in his 60’s), it is surprising to hear a smattering of electronic beats on various songs, due in part to collaboration with Brian Eno an ambient musician, but with past Simon albums filled on South African rhythms, South American storytelling, and of course acoustic sarcasm, it shouldn’t be wholly unexpected. His foray away from purely acoustic sounds isn’t innovative for him, but the electronic feel is truly unique.
The album flows between mid-tempo rock songs and acoustic balladry. The first track, “How Can You Live in the Northeast,” is a conversation representative of the current post-9/11 narrative. As the title suggests, the song bounces back and forth among questions about the identity of others. The heavy guitar-laden outro is simply perfect.
All the songs stand out, which is difficult to do with any type of music, but another of the most shining tracks is “Outrageous.” The sarcastic lyrics come from the quintessential angry old man trying to send back soup in a deli, frustrated with his lack of relevance, mixed with the vain baby-boomer’s longing for youth, warning he will paint his hair the “color of mud. Mud, okay?!” The obsession with external qualities is front and center as he finishes “900 sit-ups a day.” He asks, “Who’s gonna love you when you’re looks are gone?” The song closes with a recognition of his submission to the prevailing attitude of unwrinkled visages and cellulite-absent bodies. The familiar Simonian sarcasm gives way to a Simonian introspective inquiry.
Naturally, the familiar tongue-in-cheek sarcasm pervades the album. On “Sure Don’t Feel Like Love,” against a quirky bouncy backdrop, he remembers, “Once in August 1993, I was wrong, and I could be wrong again.” This insecurity is hilarious and telling in the same breath.
“Wartime Prayers” is a wonderful ballad with accompaniment by pianist Herbie Hancock. Not a blatant anti-war statement that would be to easy for Simon, but a forged feeling of community through prayer in a time of uncertainty.
“That’s Me,” an autobiographical look into one’s past, throws an array of emotions your way, from first love and the (delusional) hope that follows from it and then through the midlife retrospection. One really gets a sense of continuity throughout one’s life; the feeling that you feel like the same person you were 10 years ago.
This sampling doesn’t appropriately address all the different sides of this album, but it suffices to show a few of the notable snippets. Moods on this album shift from playful summer-friendly sing-alongs to reverb heavy narratives. One of the most impressive aspects of the album is its coherence as one album, not as merely a collection of songs. What’s more is that the collection of songs is so varied lyrically, jumping from blatant sarcasm to fatherly adoration to communitarian sentiment. The music runs from tunes sans amplification to computer-generated rhythms to heavy guitar bombardment. The coherence of these musical elements shows Simon’s perfection of arrangement and writing.
For many of the songs, the familiar verse-chorus structure is abandoned for seamless transition of between sections. The hookless music contrasts the current search for the sellable few seconds of infectious melody. Each part is an irrevocable section of each song, and each song a necessary track of the album. Excerpting 15 seconds for a ring-tone would be criminal, and, honestly, ineffective. I’ll take songs over sound-bytes any day.
Here is the point the article where I make a conclusive comment that ties together the theme of the entire review. My first article of this sort comes with a learning curve. Often music writers aim to artistically outdo the piece they are reviewing. It would be impossible to do that with this album. I’ll recommend the album as a thoughtful, thought-provoking piece of music that is both intellectually satisfying and aurally enthralling.
