Simon Says: Diversify

I ASSUMED I wouldn't like Paul Simon. I didn't like Simon and Garfunkel. Arthur was as precious as anyone deliberately called Artie could be. I found their music smug and overconfident; it represented the worst of the thoroughly reprehensible middle sixties "folkie" tradition. It was all there in "Homeward Bound;" its singer's over-inflated, self-pitying view of himself was combined with a banal excursion into sentiment. By the time S and G had reached the self-conscious artiness of "The Boxer," they had dissipated their creative impulse, aad were selling two million records at a crack.

Paul Simon's solo work has been aimed at revitalizing himself musically. It turns out that Arthur Garfunkel was a restrictive influence in roughly the same way Paul McCartney restricted John Lennon. Paul Simon sang Simon's problems; not unusual in light of the trend toward works exploring "the pain of the heart," exemplified by Joni Mitchell and Baby James. Songs like "Everything Put Together Falls Apart," "Run That Body Down," and "Armistice Day" probed their author's psyche, while "Mother and Child Reunion," and "Me and Julio" revitalized Simon's music, as well as letting him look within.

The new album represents a conscious attempt to separate author from song. Some of the songs are personal, but the emphasis is on a musical virtuosity and a lyrical persona, jaunty but detached. This new persona is represented by There Goes Rhymin' Simon.

The man's musical perception is remarkable; he read Aretha's musical essences, as well as her roots, and wrote "Bridge Over Troubles Waters" for her. He's genuinely interested in both gospel and rhythm and blues; the new album reflects both and more. If there's a problem with the album, it lies in the possibilities for over-extension.

There Goes Rhymin' Simon brings Simon to the brink of self-indulgence; he's attempted a variety of styles and succeeded at them, but left his album with no context, except its lack of context. A large part of his success is due to the fact that Simon's fame has reached a point where he may indulge his creativity. He can command appearances by the Dixie Hummingbirds, move into Muscle Shoals, have his falsetto parts sung for him.

"Kodachrome" is Simon's fling at whimsy, and "American Tune" his cliche. His use of The Onward Brass Band on "Take Me to the Mardi Gras" is a piece of self-indulgent authenticity which is barely necessary. There is a beautifully sung lullaby, "St. Judy's Comet," not really a lullaby at all, rather a hymn to the father who rarely babysits, and actually one of those rolling hills, green fields country songs with throwaway guitar lines. "Was a Sunny Day" seems obligatory, cute and Caribbean in music and tone -- even the phrasing approaches the West Indian lilt -- but its salvation is that it's not another attempt at reggae.

BUT BY THIS TIME, you don't know whether the album's good or not. It's fine, probably better than Paul Simon. Individually every single song has something to recommend it, from "Take Me to the Mardi Gras"'s bass picked guitar lines (one of West Indian music's essences), to "Was a Sunny Day"' brisk, chopped rhythms, to the full guitar chords, electric guitar fills, and the bass riff on "Learn How to Fall." It's just that whatever crux there is to this record is found on four songs.

"One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor" reexplores sentiments first heard on Paul Simon, but the song's musical demeanor is better than "Everything Put Together." Like "Loves Me Like a Rock," the arrangement is simple, a twelve bar shuffle variation featuring the Muscle Shoals rhythm section. The wrinkle is a descending piano theme that begins and ends the song, as well as reflecting the song's lyrical mood.

"Tenderness" may be Simon's answer to Otis's "Try a Little Tenderness." Simon can't match Otis's power, so his approach is plaintive. The guitar obbligatos are from the era of the big band vocal. Allen Toussaint's horn arrangement echoes that era as well, particularly in a soft, mixed down solo saxophone. Paul Griffin's piano tickles with the right hand, fills chords and notes with the left. And the Dixie Hummingbirds are something else. Their oooh's are acapella oriented, rough and husky. The song finishes strongly, showcases them simultaneously, and the highpoint is a single oooh, taken from high tenor to falsetto, laid over the basic choral pattern.

"Loves Me Like a Rock" is gospel, and the Dixie Hummingbirds are a gospel group. It is a measure of Simon's virtuosity that he can recognize the basic gospel call and response pattern between lead voice and background and develop a song around it. The song's emphasis on telling a story also echoes the gospel tradition of songwriting. The basic musical simplicity, a driving, simple arrangement consisting only of bass, drums and acoustic guitar perceives the essence of this music, in musical limitations originally necessary, but finally self-imposed. The song itself, while structured in the gospel style, echoes that style lyrically, incorporating a set of basically fundamentalist images, as well as use of explicitly religious words and phrases, such as "consecrated," and the spiritual image of rock of ages."

THE ALBUM'S TRIUMPH is "Something So Right," which may be Simon's purest love song. Everything about the song is right. The acoustic intro mourns and whines, the rest of the band tumbles beautifully into the middle of the chorus, there is an interaction between acoustic and electric bass subtle enough to be missed. The electric piano vibrates while the acoustic piano skips lightly on the last chorus and ascends over the final progression, giving way to two short flute phrases belying the final fade. The lyrics are sensitive, personal, self-deprecating. Easily Simon's most beautiful effort.

Simon's interest in music was evident at his recent concert. He built each set to a climax, the first with South America's Urubamba, the second with The Jesse Dixon Singers. "Mother and Child Reunion" became a gospel song; "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" was simply the best I've heard it. In concert, as on record, Paul Simon extends himself musically. There Goes Rhymin' Simon reflects his virtuosity. The album is brilliant individually, but its lack of context is cause for concern.