The Rhythm Of The Saints

Many people alive today have lived with Paul Simon as a nearly constant musical companion, whether intentionally or not. His songs have saturated public and private airwaves since the 1960s and many qualify as unquestionably ubiquitous if not as outright memes. Even those who have never purchased a single product released by "Simon & Garfunkel" or "Paul Simon" probably still instantly recognize songs such as "The Sound of Silence," "Bridge Over Troubled Water," "Mrs. Robinson," "50 Ways To Leave Your Lover," "You Can Call Me Al" and countless others. A kind of musical Jimmy Stewart whose career has largely dodged controversy, no one ever has really anything bad to say about Paul Simon (with the likely notable exception of Art Garfunkel). No noxious cloud of latent negativity looms over his legacy or persona. This is impressive in and of itself. Not only that, a few flops - flops by Paul Simon standards, at least - have had negligible effect on his career's impressive longevity. If anything, they inspired comebacks that utterly nullified the so-called flops that preceded them. For example, following the commercially lackluster "Hearts and Bones" album, Simon found himself exploring new kinds of music that eventually resulted in one of the greatest albums of all time: "Graceland." This 1986 masterpiece remains Simon's "Dark Side of the Moon," his "Joshua Tree," his "Led Zeppelin IV," his "Sgt. Pepper." Only hyperboles seem sufficient to describe it. Simon collaborated with various South African musicians to complete this stunning album, all during that country's nefarious apartheid era. The songs seemed to completely avoid any comment on the political situation at the time, something a few people criticized Simon for, but the album's stellar global reputation arguably helped shed light on the injustices of apartheid. Some also accused him of cultural appropriation and defying a global boycott then in place on South Africa, but Simon persisted despite these criticisms. Many now consider "Graceland" a phenomenal example of what can happen when cultures intermingle on equal terms (but some questioned whether the terms at the time were truly equal given the circumstances). Ultimately, "Graceland" has survived and overcome all of its contemporary criticisms, likely due to the power of its music alone.During the 1980s and 1990s, as "Graceland" sold in the millions, a strange term circulated both as a marketing catchphrase and as an attempt at a serious musical category: "World Music." This concept had existed since the 1960s, but in the 1980s it took on a new form as it gradually reached a wider market. The paradox of this term also revealed its inevitably limited outlook within a commercial context. As "World Music" albums piled up in American music stores of the time, they sat juxtaposed with "Pop/Rock," "Jazz," "Classical" and other familiar categories. This both obscured and insinuated a rather bizarre situation. After all, didn't all of these more familiar categories also qualify as "World Music?" What music produced on this planet doesn't qualify as "World Music?" Not to mention that Rock itself originated from an amalgam of Rhythm and Blues, Country and Folk, most of which arguably trace back to African-American and European-American music forms and ultimately to African and European music itself. So even Rock has global roots. As such, "World Music" never really made any sense as a truly feasible rubric. Nonetheless, the strange phrase introduced the rather myopic American music industry to some real global musical treasures. Labels from this time period, such as Peter Gabriel's "Real World" and David Byrne's "Luaka Bop," featured the incredible music of Africa, South America, Asia, Europe and even some parts of the world that many Americans may not have know existed. Despite the quirky moniker, it was a very healthy musical exercise. Simon's "Graceland," given its soaring popularity combined with its truly South African music and musicians, inevitably became associated with "World Music" and also likely energized it, or it at least gave marketers some fresh ideas. After "Graceland" the "World Music" market appeared to explode. Earlier experiments that combined Rock with African music, such as Peter Gabriel's "Security" or Talking Heads' "Remain in Light," either remained on the fringe or didn't garner enough commercial interest to spark an industry movement. "Graceland" may have helped change that. Soon one saw Ladysmith Black Mambazo on "The Tonight Show" and "Saturday Night Live." Other acclaimed South African musicians, such as Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba, also toured the United States during this time. Not long after, previously unknown groups, song styles and instruments from around the globe permeated American television and concert halls. "World Music" seemed to have entered the American mainstream. "Graceland" didn't bring this about all by itself, of course, but it may have bolstered confidence in the commercial viability of this new, but also simultaneously not new, genre."Graceland" continued its unparalleled ubiquity over the next four years. Simon didn't really have to release anything new because the album still felt fresh and continued to sell. No one could accuse him of silent withdrawal. "World Music" also gained further traction, even if some of it started to sound a little too deliberate by this time. Then, in late 1990, almost in response to growing accusations of "World Music" as the latest cliché, fascinating drums began clacking over radio stations. Suddenly, Paul Simon's voice floated over this rhythm track and yet another unforgettable merging occurred. "The Obvious Child" sounded as fresh and dynamic as anything on "Graceland." The song rotated on radio for some time before the new album appeared, creating volcanic anticipation. When "The Rhythm of the Saints" finally appeared, listeners found a much more subdued and subtle album than "Graceland" full of African and South American rhythms and styles. The thundering opening track which deals with the life process and youth that begets youth that eventually begets doubt, featured the African-Brazilian drum group Olodum recorded live. "Can't Run But" evokes Chernobyl and the helplessness it likely inspired through a driving yet mellow marimba-esque rhythm. It features another curious line: "The music suffers, the music business thrives." The guitar-driven "The Coast" juxtaposes lands of plenty and lands of want with spiritually-laden imagery of stars, injured coasts and money. "Proof" features an explosive horn chorus and explores the perennial tension between proof and faith. Simon's second wife, the late Carrie Fisher, claimed that "She Moves On" is about her. "Born at the Right Time," probably the album's catchiest number after "The Obvious Child," uses fate as a dominant determinant of well-being. It may also serve as an exhortation to the privileged of the world to appreciate what they have, as pure luck may have played a large part in their circumstances. "The Cool, Cool River" contains one of the album's most beautiful moments in its longing refrain. It ends with the poignant lines: "My life's so common it disappears, and sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears." The title track, which also closes the album, deals with life's continual overcoming of itself and appeals for strength.Despite strong sales, "The Rhythm of the Saints" didn't have the impact or longevity of its predecessor. Its songs didn't linger on the airwaves interminably and the album seemed to quietly vanish only months after its release. The album strives for a more ambient, meditative and evocative mood rather than a sing-song melodically dominant feel. As such, the vocal melodies often melt into the mix and the album contains far fewer melodic vocal hooks than the considerably more radio-friendly "Graceland." In essence, it's a very different album with a very different approach to its material. It will likely always live somewhat in the shadow of the album that preceded it. Following its release and subsequent tour, Simon nearly vanished for some seven years. When he finally resurfaced, it was for one of his rare flops, "Songs From The Capeman." The new millenium saw him recover yet again and, four albums later, a now mid-late 70s Simon seems as strong and as acclaimed as ever. And his albums still sell respectably. It all feels somewhat miraculous, especially in a post-album, streaming, give-it-all-away music age. He has left the question of retirement wisely up in the air. But even if he retires tomorrow, who could claim that it wasn't well-deserved? Few other musicians or songwriters have had such an enduring and impactful presence in American, and even global, popular music.

This 1990 album shares a lot of aesthetics with Simon's 1986 "Graceland." I've only just got around to buying "The Rhythm of the Saints," but I bought "Graceland" immediately when it was first released. It had so many great songs on it that it made this album look like a poor imitation of that (now) classic. I recall that a lot of critics slammed "Graceland" for "cultural appropriation" because of its use of African and Brazilian rhythms and musicians, which seems a bit quaint now. Musicians are always inspired by other musics (or should be). And "Rhythm of the Saints" shares much of that spirit.The big song on "The Rhythm of the Saints" is "The Obvious Child" and, to a lesser degree, "Spirit Voices." Yet, despite the dearth of "hits," this album seems more mature and complex in its execution. Just take a look at the star-studded list of musicians who contribute to these tracks: C.J. Chenier, J.J. Cale, Adrian Belew, Jerry Douglas, Naná Vasconcelos, Michael and Randy Brecker, and Milton Nascimento, to name a few.Although I've been listening to this 33-year-old album for only a few weeks, the songs already sound to me like familiar Paul Simon classics. The lyrics are sophisticated and cool and meaningful poems set to interesting and original melodies and global polyrhythms. The more I listen to "Rhythm of the Saints" the more I think this is the best album Paul Simon had ever released until "So Beautiful or So What" came out in 2011, though that would be a matter of apples and oranges. "The Rhythm of the Saints" was largely underappreciated in the wake of "Graceland," but deserves a much closer listen.

Rhythm of the Saints is one of the best albums I own. As well as being one of the most richly layered sounding albums I've ever heard, it has incredible songwriting.To create the lush sound of the album, Simon brought together an amazing group of musicians for this album. The South African guitarist is particularly wonderful. He makes the guitar sound like a different instrument.But what I think defines this album is the drumming. I have heard that Simon went to Brazil and recorded live drumming, then created his songs around it. Thus Simon's songwriting is very different from his earlier, more linear style. The lyrics are like snapshots; quick impressions strung together.I am a huge fan of almost all Paul Simon (in fact, I own almost verything he's ever recorded, including S&G), but I truly enjoy the more experimental songwriting in Rhythm of the Saints. It can still gives me chills at certain moments.Rhythm of the Saints is at the top of my desert island album list. I recommend it highly.