With “retirement” from the live stage as the most malleable word in the lexicon of the modern musician (from Sinatra and Dylan to the Who), Paul Simon rolls on, again, under the umbrella of “A Quiet Celebration” and its block of tour stop dates at Philadelphia’s Academy Of Music.
(Sadly, Simon canceled the remaining two Philly dates—with additional cities such as Los Angeles, San Francisco and Seattle in question—due to his struggles with chronic back pain. Says management “We are hopeful after a minor surgical procedure, which has been scheduled in the next few days, Paul will be able to complete the tour as well as look into returning to make up these dates.”)
Stating how the Academy Of Music’s “pristine” acoustics were most welcoming to his softcore new material (the odd musicality of 2023’s neo-chamber Seven Psalms) as well as setting a perfect trembling tone for past materials (hits, rarities), the vocalist/guitarist unfurled his poetic songcraft in a whisper. For all of its dedication to delicate murmur and shimmer, Simon, his large-scale band and his occasional co-vocalist (and always wife) Edie Brickell’s presentation never lacked in boldness.
If Paul Simon, indeed, is the saint of the sounds of silence, he was not about to go into the dark night that quietly and without the supple drama of his words ringing loudly and clearly.
Simon, at 83, has an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice that comes through the top of every gorgeously burnished arrangement filling “A Quiet Celebration.” The famously plaintive, street-angel sound that made “America” and “Still Crazy After All These Years” effective as angular, figurative roadmaps of dreams and fears for the “now” generations since 1965 is more weathered. Yet, such warm, worn tones as his are what gave this night’s radiant reach into his storied catalog, new and old, meaningful emotion beyond mere reminiscing.
“The Late Great Johnny Ace” (and its heroic talk of Johns Ace, Kennedy and Lennon) and “Homeward Bound” (and its reach for someone waiting for his arrival)—the feelings spoken of and felt, by singer and audience—seemed more cathartic and charged with time and whatever we call “tide” at present. The wear-and-tear of the resilient guy behind “The Boxer” and the calculating carouser crooning “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover”—their pain and joy are more palpable now than ever.
A large part of such palpability comes down to the all-acoustic yawn of “A Quiet Celebration” and its commitment to clarity, both instrumentality and vocally. The shuffle-boom drum riff that opens “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover” and the flickering high-life guitar of “Graceland” are louder and more pronounced. So, too, is the clarion force of Simon’s words, from the tenderness of hope that fills “Homeward Bound” to the fickle, frisky humor of “René And Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After The War.”
Such humor, along with deeply etched rumination, came through loudly and clearly during the first part of the concert program: Simon’s introduction to Seven Psalms (“A 33-minute piece. It’s uninterrupted. There are no breaks between songs”) and its secular-yet-still-spiritual take on issues of mortality and faith. With the shushing harmony vocals of Brickell alongside and before his (to say nothing of her whistle on the later, jumpily upbeat “Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard”), pensive prayerful moments such as “The Sacred Harp” and the dreamless transition of “Wait” felt rapturous even in their sadness. “Life is a meteor,” Simon sang softly on the latter track. “Let your eyes roam/Heaven is beautiful/It’s almost like home/Children, get ready/It’s time to come home.”
No sooner touched by gravity and holiness—along with ever-so-dissonant Seven Psalms opener “The Lord” acting as a repeated through-line motif for all of the first set’s songs—the album embraced goofiness and Dada imagery such as those in the lyrics to “My Professional Opinion” and its metaphorical silly display: “I heard two cows in a conversation/One called the other one a name/In my professional opinion/All cows in the country must bear the blame.”
If you were smart enough to not look at the tour’s previous set lists, you were happily surprised by hearing the sand-shifting beauty of Rhythm Of The Saints songs such as the aptly titled “Spirit Voices” and “The Cool, Cool River” or the woodsy, grooving “Rewrite” (from 2011’s So Beautiful Or So What). And even if you did look, hearing Simon’s show-ending solo moment, “The Sound Of Silence,” was something of a shock with its slightly battered vocal delivery, his candle-flickering guitar and its prescient lyrical phrase looking at the words of prophets written on subway walls and tenement halls.
If you’ve never been to a concert that will make your eyes well up and your arm hairs stand at attention, please hope Paul Simon and his most amazing ensemble will be able to continue doing “A Quiet Celebration.”
—A.D. Amorosi; photo by Jake Edwards (shot a week earlier in NYC)