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Rating: “As we march down to Fanerio
our captain fell in love
with a lady like a dove,
and they called her name pretty Peggy-o”.
The LP debut (the first single, “Hey, Schoolgirl”, was in 1957) by Simon & Garfunkel is all here: immediate melodies, delicate guitars, and a touch of folk tradition. An oasis of serenity: we are in nineteensixty-four; for the United States, these are years of war (Vietnam) and mourning (among others, J.F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Marilyn Monroe) that deeply affect society. If this background really relates to what I am saying, frankly I ignore it, but I like to believe it: in the funereal cover with epitaphic characters - a counterpoint to the colorful mosaic enclosed within - the two very young American musicians send to print this “Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.”, an unripe hint of the good things to come, despite an initial sales failure.
The LP takes off in apnea with “You Can Tell The World”, indeed a cheerful verbal blow for the baby of Israel – who after all brought joy joy joy into my heart. Well done, cowbells and cans: here is “Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream”, a sort of shouted nursery rhyme while people dance around in the streets. The peculiarity of the two voices already stands out, pure in their whiteness, two voices that find and support each other along different paths. It touches deeply “Sparrow”, the fragile sparrow seeking a crumb of love – Not I, said the oak, the swan, and the corn. I will give it, said the Earth, dust you were and to dust you shall return.
Folk tradition, as was said: and on one side, we have the joyful “Go Tell It On The Mountain” announcing the birth – Hallelujah! - of the divine infant to seas and mountains, on the other, here is the sublime nursery rhyme of “Peggy-O” mentioned earlier, so tender, sweet, and loving it ends up being destructive and incendiary. Figuratively speaking, of course. War is truly destructive, to the extreme. And so here is the burning Vietnam current events: the Dylan-esque inspiration of “He Was My Brother”, an indictment against the war arts, strikes with the piercing memory of the hero for the homeland. One of the many, perhaps forgotten, heroes of the homeland. He was my brother, he was 23 years old the day he died. He was my brother, and he died so that his brothers could be free. Amen: prayer. “Benedictus”, a liturgical remake, highlights despite a hesitant Latin the beautiful voices of Art and Paul. An estranging yet very sweet piece (I think that’s the correct term).
The journey from track to track, as if following a thread of some unknown plot, brings me to a solid, well-built, and comfortable structure, which the two will often find themselves inhabiting. “The Sun Is Burning” is constructed on five stanzas of equal dignity and with a beautiful melodic line; the celestial parable of the star to which we owe everything becomes an allegory of human imperfection, from afternoon affection to the scent of ashes in the evening. “Bleecker Street” continues along the same lines, frankly beautiful: impressionism in music, brush strokes capturing a moment, unique in its appearance.
Voices leaving from a sad café, smiling faces try to understand; I saw a shadow touch a shadow’s hand on Bleecker Street.
Quite unusual for those musically arcane times, here comes a punctual cover of the same Bob Dylan gaining new luster and vigor: “The Times They Are A-Changin’”, in this case, made more fluid without the genius potato-in-mouth of the great songwriter.
A few excellent tracks, in short, a lot of sweetness and some nice fillers; but all this does not make history (whether this album does, I don’t know; I say that in its small way it stirs something). To make a fine jewel, you need the gems. “The Sound Of Silence” is one. Still unripe, minimal, yet dreamy; known to anyone, I believe, even without knowing they know it. The two melodies are perfect, overlapping in a beginning of immortality; it may not be the wonderful song of the vinyl namesake nephew, but this dialogue between the voices and the guitars moves with purity. “Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.” perhaps is even more so: it is poetry, a chilling portrait, the weight of thoughtless actions (My life seems unreal, my crime an illusion: a scene badly written in which I must play), distressing in the full moon of winter nights, terrible pangs of stupidity. Yet it is also hope: it is the assurance of love’s warm body, the wait for morning, just a few hours away, to warm the coldness of the soul.
It is not yet the time of Kathy and Cecilia, it is not yet the moment to tell of America and parsley-sage-rosemary-and-thyme. Many stories will still come, many events will grow the two musicians, highs and lows will separate them several times, making evident the strength of their union. For once, however, it is nice to dwell on the moments when everything begins. Because Simon & Garfunkel understood one thing right away: every story deserves to be known, narrated in a sigh, resounding in the silence of man. It matters little if even prophets must write on subway walls. The important thing is that they write.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
04 Sparrow (02:49)
Who will love a little sparrow?
Who's travelled far and cries for rest?
"Not I," said the oak tree
"I won't share my branches with no sparrow's nest,
And my blanket of leaves won't warm her cold breast."
Who will love a little sparrow?
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I," said the swan
"The entire idea is utterly absurd,
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard."
And who will take pity in his heart?
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I," said the golden wheat
"I would if I could but I cannot I know,
I need all my grain to prosper and grow."
Who will love a little sparrow?
Will no-one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the earth
"For all I've created returns unto me,
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be."
05 Benedictus (02:38)
Benedictus qui est venit
In nomine Domini
In nomine
In nomine
In nomine Domini
In nomine Domini
In nomine
In nomine
In nomine Domini
06 The Sound of Silence (03:08)
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night, and touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
And no one dared disturb the sound of silence
"Fools," said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls, and whispered in the sounds of silence."
07 He Was My Brother (02:48)
He was my brother,
5 years older than I,
He was my brother,
23 years old, the day he died.
Freedem rider,
They cursed my brother to his face,
Go home outsider, Mississipi's gonna be your burying place,
He was singing on his knees,
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead, because he hated what was wrong.
He was my brother, tears can't bring him back to me,
He, he was my brother, and he died so his brothers could be free,
oh God, he died so his brothers could be free.
08 Peggy-O (02:26)
As we marched down to Faneri-o
As we marched down to Faneri-o
Our captain fell n love with a lady like a dove
And they called her name, pretty Peggy-o
Come a runnin' down the stairs, pretty Peggy-o
Come a runnin' down the stairs, pretty Peggy-o
Come a runnin' down the stairs, combin' back
your yellow hair
You're the prettiest little girl I've ever seen-o
In a carriage you will ride, pretty Peggy-o
In a carriage you will ride, pretty Peggy-o
In a carriage you will ride, with your true love by
your side
As far as any maiden in the ar-e-o
What will your mother say, pretry Peggy-o?
What will your mother say, pretty Peggy-o?
What will your mother say, when she finds you've
gone away
To places far and strange to Faneri-o?
If ever I return, pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return, pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return, all your cities I will burn
Destroying all the ladies in the ar-e-o
Destroying all the ladies in the ar-e-o
09 Go Tell It on the Mountain (02:06)
Hallelujah!
Go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
Jesus Christ is born
Down the lonely manger
The humble Christ was born
And God sent salvation
That blessed Christmas morn
(repeat chorus)
While shepherds kept their watch
O'er silent flocks by night
Behold throughout the heavens
There shown a holy light
(repeat chorus and 1st verse)
(repeat chorus)
10 The Sun Is Burning (02:49)
"The sun is burning in the sky
strands of clouds go slowly drifting by
in the park the lazy bees are joining in
the flowers among the trees
and the sun burns in the sky.
now the sun is in the west
little kids go home to take their rest
and the couples in the park are holding
hands and waiting for the dark
and the sun is in the west
now the sun is sinking low
children play and know its time to go
high above a spot appears a little
blossom blooms and then draws near
and the sun is sinking low
now the sun has come to earth
shrouded in a mushroom cloud of death
death comes in a blinding flash
of hellish heat and leaves a smear of
ash and the sun has come to earth
now the sun has disappeared
all is darkness anger pain and fear
twisted sightless wrecks of men go
groaping on their knees and cry in pain
and the sun has disappeared...."
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