Simon and Garfunkel Recapture the Magic in Cleveland, October 20

Background

For as long as I can remember, any interview with Art Garfunkel or Paul Simon had to include some variation on the obligatory question: “When is there going to be a Simon and Garfunkel reunion?” It was a question neither one particularly liked, and after all these years I had all but satisfied myself with their repeated implicit suggestion: “Never.” They never completely closed the door on the possibility, but it was starting to look as though the members of my favorite band would not only not tour together again but would remain estranged for the rest of their lives. Then, this year, a change. Simon and Garfunkel performed Sound of Silence together on the Grammys. Suddenly, anything was possible.

The rumors of a tour flew fast and furious following the Grammys, but they eventually quieted down, only to flare up again when Art confirmed on a June 20 morning show appearance that he and Paul were thinking of touring again. Then another two months of relative silence until an announcement on the Everly Brothers’ website provided a breakthrough. Don and Phil would be joining Art and Paul for their reunion tour. The buzz reached fever pitch, and a certain contingent of fans breathed a collective sigh of relief when Art and Paul finally officially confirmed on September 9 that they would be embarking on tour of North America. A dream was about to come true.

Pre-Concert

I, of course, was bouncing off the walls when I realized that Simon and Garfunkel were actually going on tour and I would actually be able to see them. I banked on them hitting one of the major cities near Erie, and while they gave Pittsburgh and Buffalo a miss, I soon discovered that Cleveland was the third stop on their itinerary. Thanks to www.artgarfunkel.com, I was able to find out when the tickets would first be available for purchase. I agonized over what tickets to get and decided on the middle range. However, the morning of the pre-sale, I decided that I ought to go for the very best seats available. So there I was at 10 a.m. on Ticketmaster, clicking away in a desperate bid for $130 seats. And I got them. Funny thing is, they didn’t seem like $130 seats when we got there. I must admit, I was just a bit distraught over how far away my top dollar early bird bid had gotten us. I wonder if I might have been better off if I’d gone for mid-price tickets the day of the actual sale? Oh, well. One of life’s little disappointments: no second-row seats for me. The important thing is that I got tickets at all.

Over the summer, I attended the American Idol concert in Cleveland. That was at the CSU Convocation Center, while this concert was at the Gund Arena. Both venues are huge. They were both very nice, but if I had to venture a guess I’d say the Gund is the better of the two. Upon our arrival at 7:00, I headed right for the souvenir stand to buy a tour book and t-shirt before the lines got impossibly long. There were several different styles of t-shirts, though none was particularly thrilling. I got the black one with the Bookends cover and “simon & garfunkel” on the front and a list of tour stops on the back. I’m glad I got it, but I don’t think it was much of a deal for $35. I got more bang for my buck with the $25 tour book, an attractive collection of photos, quotes and stats along with a brief history of the duo and its significance by Bud Scoppa. If an additional $25 investment doesn’t sting too much, I definitely recommend the book to all serious Simon and Garfunkel fans.

It wasn’t quite 7:30 when we got to our seats, which, as I mentioned before, were located considerably further from the stage than I had hoped. Yes, I’d looked at a grid of the arena, but I never was good with maps. And I was just so glad to have tickets at all, I wasn’t going to hold out for better seats and risk losing our spots altogether. So we watched as the crowd slowly filed in and entertained ourselves by perusing the tour book and listening to one particularly enthusiastic beer vendor hawk his wares; every time his overzealous bellowing of “THE BEER GUY!!!!!” and “COLD BEER!!!!!!” echoed through the arena, my brother and I erupted into giggles. At 8:00 the hall was alarmingly empty, but the rest of the audience gradually arrived. It was nearly 8:30 when all of the lights went out suddenly. The time had come to begin.

Spoiler Alert: I intend to recount this concert in as much detail as I can, if for no other reason than to cement it as solidly in my memory as possible. If you plan to attend a later stop on the tour and don’t want any surprises ruined, you may want to stop here. Everyone else, feel free, to quote The Princess Bride, to “skip to the end” if my starry-eyed rambling bores you...

The Concert

Shortly after we were plunged into total darkness, the distinctive opening notes of America filled the arena. Accompanying this pre-recorded instrumental track was a slide show of significant cultural and historical snapshots interspersed amongst photos of Art and Paul through the years. If we were a bit further from Simon and Garfunkel than I would have liked, we at least had a prime view of the Jumbotron. The clever, eye-catching opening earned cheers from the audience, but they could not compare with the roar that erupted when the presentation ended and a beam of light revealed the men themselves upon the stage. Before they could begin, they had to wait for the instantaneous standing ovation, the first of many, to subside.

While we came prepared with spyglasses to enhance our viewing pleasure, I soon discovered they were not very effective tools in a venue such as this. Fortunately, the Jumbotron took care of that for us. Most concerts I’ve attended have been too small to merit technological aids like this, but ironically I was able to see Simon and Garfunkel with much greater clarity than almost any performer I have seen live. As they sang the title song of their tour, we were able to see that these truly were two “old friends.” However tenuous their relationship may have been in the years since their last major tour together, the old magic was clearly back. It was a tender yet somber beginning to an evening that would chronicle their career as a duo and provide a living testament to the strength of their friendship.

The hints of mortality continued with Hazy Shade of Winter, one of their most hard-edged songs. In the Simon and Garfunkel catalog, this number does not rank terribly high on my list, simply because it’s much harsher than most of their music. Still, I am convinced there is no such thing as a bad Simon and Garfunkel song, and if nothing else, Hazy Shade was rockin’! After the quiet ending of Bookends, the electrifying opening of this song was as jarring a transition as the ill-conceived placement of Keep the Customer Satisfied directly after the lullaby Feuilles-Oh on the Old Friends compilation. Once we recovered from the shock, though, it was a great way to bring the audience up to our highest energy level. For whatever reason, they omitted quite a bit in the singing of this song, most appropriately, I suppose, the line “it’s the springtime of my life.” The emphasis was on the chorus, with verses often skipped altogether or replaced with instrumentals. Very effective nonetheless.

The next song threw me for a loop, reminding just how similar certain portions of Simon and Garfunkel tunes sound. After the guitar intro, I was expecting Homeward Bound; what I got was I Am a Rock. Silly me! This was the second tune of the night from their Greatest Hits; the only song from the album to get left out entirely was For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her. I’ve heard Art describe I Am a Rock as Paul’s most neurotic song and Paul express embarrassment over having written it, but it has always been one of my favorites. The themes of isolation and betrayal are ones that most of us can relate to at one time or another. They probably also contain a hint of what the two may have felt in regard to one another sometimes. I found the harmonies interesting, as they were significantly altered from the original version. Throughout the night, most of the songs featured arrangements and harmonies differing slightly from the recordings, but this song contained some of the most apparent alterations. Art’s high-end vocals were reminiscent of the triumphant chorus of A Church is Burning, resulting in the song feeling less like a pity party and more like a bold statement of individuality.

America was pretty straightforward. We’d already gotten a preview of that with the slide show, and I had heard them perform it on television last month, so there wasn’t anything particularly surprising there. Great harmonies, and a nice appreciative cheer from the audience at the mention of boarding a Greyhound in Pittsburgh.

Paul started in on At the Zoo himself, with what seemed to be a rather flip air about him. Art joined in and they breezed right through it, forgoing any instrumental breaks or returns to the opening lines. They seemed to be having fun with it, and it was particularly entertaining to watch Art hold that note on “gas” towards the end. Once they reached the end of the vocals, however, they launched into an unexpected and rather lengthy instrumental ending that turned out to be a segue into Baby Driver. This is another tune I claim among my least favorite Simon and Garfunkel tunes, but I have to admit it’s a fun song, and never more so than last night. They really seemed to be having the time of their lives up there, and Art’s imitation of the car motor was dead-on and hilarious. I also took particular note of Warren Bernhardt, whom I have seen several times at Art’s concerts. He’s always impressed me, but man, was he making those ivories dance on this song! I had almost as much fun watching him boogie-woogie on the piano as I did watching Simon and Garfunkel sing one of their most youthful...one might almost say adolescent...songs.

I’ve heard Art’s introduction to Kathy’s Song before, and it really didn’t change a whole lot between his solo concerts and this one. Just a few moments of reflection on the simple life he and Paul had before fame hit, when they survived day to day on the strength of their music and their friendship. When they had to practically force people to stay for their show and toss a few coins in the hat their friend Kathy passed around instead of having fans clamoring to score $130 tickets to see them perform. A description of the song as pure nostalgia but also the most beautiful love song Paul ever wrote. Nothing really new here, but it took on much deeper meaning with Paul standing right next to him. And when Art began to sing, accompanied only by Paul’s masterful guitar playing, it was a moment whose intimacy was perhaps unrivaled all that evening. While this is a song Art often does in concert, it is Paul’s song in the original recording. Hearing Art perform it last night was like witnessing a gift: Paul passing the song along to Artie, whose superb, wistful treatment of it expressed his deep love for that time in their lives.

Thus engulfed in a cloud of nostalgia, they took themselves back one step further, back to the day when they introduced themselves to one another for the first time as cast members of the class production of Alice in Wonderland. Paul noted drily, in the concert tour’s most quoted sound byte, that “We met at 11, started singing together at 13, and started arguing at 14.” The next milestone? A recording, landing a spot on the charts and an appearance on American Bandstand. Not bad for a couple of 16-year-olds. They launched into a quick, self-deprecating rendition of Hey, Schoolgirl, after which Paul dead-panned, “I have no idea where the ‘woo baba lichi wa’ came from.”

The sound, however, he could explain. Simon and Garfunkel crafted their distinctive harmonies by copying the Everly Brothers, a rockabilly duo especially popular in the fifties. The best homage he could give to the duo without whom there probably would be no Simon and Garfunkel was to invite them to take the stage and sing a few of their biggest hits. The applause from the audience was resounding, and the Everlys warranted yet another standing ovation, but it was unclear whether their appearance was a surprise to the majority of those present. I have seen several articles this week remarking on the unexpected presence of the Everly Brothers, which struck me as odd since I have known they were a part of this tour for two months. Maybe I was just more “in the know” than I realized!

Simon and Garfunkel stepped back at this point and let Don and Phil do their thing. They first launched into a spirited rendition of Wake Up Little Suzie, arguably their biggest hit. Simon and Garfunkel landed on the charts with their live cover of it during 1981's Concert in the Park. This song was great fun, but All I Have to Do is Dream was my favorite of the three they sang solo. They sang it very slowly, and a slowly rotating blue light washed the entire arena in a dreamlike glow. Very nice. Let It Be Me was the only song of the night which I did not know. I was familiar with it, having read that Art and Julio Iglesias recorded a cover of it several years ago, but I had never heard the song. All three songs allowed the audience to hear how these brothers influenced Simon and Garfunkel with their tight harmonic style. Simon and Garfunkel returned at this point to join the Everlys in a very lively Bye Bye Love for which the audience sang along. A wonderful living tribute to this band who meant so much to Art and Paul in their formative years.

The next song was a cover of a different kind for Simon and Garfunkel, with their definitive version of the old English tune Scarborough Fair. Art started out on the first verse, joined later by Paul, singing the harmony. The counter-melody, Canticle, could be heard from time to time in the instrumentals. A lovely performance, and the first of four Greatest Hits songs in a row. Homeward Bound was also pretty straightforward, with no major changes. In his concerts, Art usually takes the opportunity to make a jab at Paul in this song, singing “tonight I’ll sing his songs again... all his words come back to me in shades of mediocrity.” This obviously was not a part of the song last night, but I wonder whether Art will continue to sing it that way when he goes back to his solo tour next year.

Sound of Silence got a huge reaction from the audience. Certainly one of their most enduring songs, and the one that started it all. When they performed it at the Grammys, I was struck by a sense that this did not feel like a Simon and Garfunkel performance; rather, it was a Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel performance, and that was not the same thing. They had not merged to become a separate, transcendent entity, to create that magical quality that their engineer Roy Halee said could not be accomplished by overdubbing tracks of them singing alone. Last night, the magic was very much alive again, which was apparent from the beginning of the show. Few songs better exemplify the their harmonic blend than this plea for connection in a world that continually facilitates alienation.

At this point, the Jumbotron became the focal point once more as the recording of Feelin’ Groovy accompanied Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel-related video clips from concerts, both duo and solo, films and specials, as well as snippets of The Graduate. This fun little montage preceded Mrs. Robinson, usually another opportunity for Art to poke fun at his relationship with Paul by explaining the reasons they broke up. One explanation: he wanted to sing “Jesus loves you more than you ever knew, woo woo woo,” and Paul would have none of it. He then takes the liberty to change the lyric in his performance. No lyric change last night, just an energetic reading of a perpetual fan favorite which neither performer counts among his favorite songs. If they minded singing it, though, it didn’t show at all.

The remaining songs, prior to the encores, were all taken from either the late or the post-Simon and Garfunkel catalog. Slip-Slidin’ Away was one song from his early solo career which Paul said he always thought should have been a Simon and Garfunkel song. I’ve always liked it, but it has especially grown on me since I received the Concert in the Park DVD. A sad and lovely song containing some of Paul’s finest lyrics, it’s on the verge of edging out Kodachrome as my second favorite of Paul’s solo efforts. This performance included a delightful candid moment when Art started to sing the song too early and stopped short, realizing he had jumped the gun. The audience got a good chuckle over that; it’s just nice to be reminded sometimes that they’re ordinary folks just like us and equally capable of flubbing up a bit. Interestingly, this song caused Art slight confusion during the Concert in the Park as well; you can see him conferring with Paul prior to the song’s beginning over which verse he is supposed to sing solo. The ending was elongated last night, featuring rich harmonization of Art and Paul well after the actual lyrics had ended, and Art’s neatly timed finger-snapping added nice accents throughout the song.

El Condor Pasa was very nicely done, and while I didn’t really notice this, it included accompaniment on the ukelele that my dad thought gave it a sort of Russian Jewish feel, rather than the typical Spanish feel. At any rate, a great performance, and Art’s vocals on the bridge were particularly nice. The next song was the second to throw me for a loop. I didn’t recognize it from the introduction at all, but then the song doesn’t really have an intro in the recording so that could be why. Keep the Customer Satisfied was about the only guess I could venture, and it was right, but it sure sounded different without that brass section. They skipped a bit of the chorus the first time around but otherwise went all out with this one, making it one of the most rollicking tunes of the night.

I can’t pick a favorite song from this concert, but when I heard that The Only Living Boy in New York was on the set list, I was a bit surprised and very pleased. There were several songs at the concert which I had never heard them perform together in a live setting before, but this one in particular stood out, largely because of how very personal it was. This was one of three performances of the night which most profoundly affected me, the first being Kathy’s Song and the third, Bridge. All three gave me a strong sense of the depth of their friendship, of the agony and ecstacy their relationship encompassed. Paul introduced it by saying he had written it for Artie when was in Mexico filming Catch-22. Just that sentence or two set the tone for the song, forlorn and affectionate. This clearly was something special; to emphasize it, the Jumbotron broadcast Paul in black and white.

Those familiar with the history of Bridge Over Troubled Water know that, while this album was hugely successful, it was fraught with tensions and difficulties. Not least among these was the fact that Paul and Roy couldn’t do that much work on the album with Art down in Mexico working on the movie. From a practical standpoint, Art’s absence was detrimental to the production of the album. But that isn’t what comes across in this song. It’s not frustration that Art’s alternate project was taking so long or anger that when they did get together they had trouble agreeing on what to put on the album. This song comes down to friendship, pure and simple. Paul’s good buddy Artie is far away, and he misses having him around. But he also wants him to know that he cares enough about him to let him go his own way, even if that way is in the opposite direction.

Paul sang the song by himself, at least the address. In my fifteen or so years of listening to Paul sing, I have found that he is a master of melancholy; few singers can convey that state of being as effectively as him. He stood in the center of the stage alone and sent his plaintive message out to Art, and it really did seem as though Art were hundreds of miles away. When it came time for that haunting descant, Art got backup from one of the band members. Their vocals blended beautifully to form a chorus of angelic reassurance to counter Paul’s isolation. I have always read the song as though the descant is Art trying to get through to Paul, across the vast distance that separates them, to comfort him and to tell him that he has not abandoned him, and I have always been left with the feeling that he falls just short of conveying the message. Last night, as the song resolved itself, I got the sense that the gap that had stood in the way for so long had finally, miraculously, been bridged. The glory of the entire tour painstakingly contained in one song. Breathtaking.

Once the song ended, Paul acknowledged the man who had been singing with Art, after which Art piped up, “What about me?” This brief moment of levity preceded my favorite song from Paul’s solo years, and probably Art’s favorite as well. In his introduction to American Tune, which he performs in his solo concerts to great effect, he said it was one song which he wished had been written when Simon and Garfunkel were still together. He expressed his love of the song enthusiastically before singing it, and just after it ended, he announced, “I adore that song!” The vocal arrangement was slightly different this time than when they performed the song during the Concert in the Park. This time, Art sang the first verse himself, Paul the second himself, Art the first half of the bridge, Paul the second half, and then they sang the last verse together. Beautiful and haunting, and fascinating to see the different interpretations Paul and Art brought to it. Art’s rendition was wistful, with just a tinge of hope, while Paul’s seemed mired in despair. The interplay was particularly suited to follow Only Living Boy, and the mix of hope and hopelessness was just as effective here.

My Little Town was another rocker, accompanied by reddish lights that flooded the arena. It was a good change of pace after two of the night’s most solemn songs, particularly considering the grandiosity that would follow it. The crowd had fun with it; some folks up in the nosebleeds maybe had a little too much fun, coming up with crazy dances to fit this and other more energetic tunes.

Next was the point in the concert that everyone both anticipated and dreaded. Once we heard those opening notes of Bridge, we knew that the conclusion of the concert could not be far away. Nonetheless, we sat rapt, too caught up in the moment to care much about what was going to happen after this song. I once more found myself jealous of Warren Bernhardt, whose brilliant piano playing formed an essential undercurrent to the song, like the rippling of that troubled water. Art stepped out into the spotlight after Warren’s piano intro set the tone and launched into what seemed to me the most vulnerable performance of that first verse I have ever heard. Perhaps I only imagined it, but it looked and sounded to me as though Art was nearly overcome with emotion as he sang, battling tears as he gently guided that verse to its conclusion.

But the real surprise for the audience was when the second verse began with not Art but Paul. I had heard that Paul would be joining Art on the song so it wasn’t a complete shock to me, but I got the impression that it really floored the majority of the audience. As he began, a spontaneous cheer arose from the crowd. Here was something you didn’t hear every day. Not only was Paul singing the second verse a great strategy to jar the audience from their expectation, it was also the perfect verse for him to sing alone, as it is the darkest and most melancholy of the three. The two sang together on the third verse, with Paul taking the harmony but stepping aside for the last couple lines to relinquish the spotlight to Art.

It is ironic that this song which is such a great testament to unity should have been a source of dissension for its creators. But even though Paul presented the song to Art as a gift, he found it frustrating that this song so often viewed as their crowning achievement was almost exclusively associated with Art. Seeing them share the song last night brought the same feeling of reparation as Only Living Boy in New York. Paul and Art got almost equal time. They were able to carry the song together. Then when it finally came down to the wire, to that glory note that Art is so famous for, Paul graciously stepped aside so his friend could bring the song to the grandest of conclusions. And Art did not disappoint. In fact, I have seen him perform the song live three times and on live television appearances several more times, and this was the strongest Bridge ending I have ever heard. As he sustained the note for what seemed like an impossible length of time, the crowd rose as one in a scene that reminded me of the inspiring en masse rising of the crowd toward the end of Angels in the Outfield. Here there was a similar sense that we were a part of something big, something awe-inspiring, drawing strength from one another. Art and Paul took their time exiting the stage, and they were gone for a full two minutes, but we were still on our feet applauding loudly when they returned for their first encore.

Now it was just time to have a bit of fun with Cecilia as the first song in the first encore. While I confess that I rather missed Tommy Igoe’s dizzying percussion performance from Art’s solo concerts, this rendition was just as engaging. We stayed on our feet and had a grand old time. The arrangement was different enough on this song to bear mentioning. Several lines were repeated or elongated, and there was a final emphasis on the word “jubilation,” drawn out and richly harmonic, that accentuated the joy of the finale.

After Cecilia, they finally played The Boxer, another of the most perfect examples of the Simon and Garfunkel harmony as well as an epic story of survival. When they got to the chorus, they invited the audience to join in on the “lie la lie” part, which we gladly did. Featured in this song was a strange instrument unfamiliar to me which produced the haunting bridge between the second verse and chorus. Whatever it was, it was impressive. Oddly enough, Paul and Art omitted the additional verse which was not included on the original recording but which they did sing in recent television appearances. With its theme of the passage of time, it seems like it would be especially appropriate for this tour. The song was fine without it, though, and earned another standing ovation from the crowd.

After this, they left again. One lucky fellow in the front row scored a high-five from Paul on his way off the stage. But a minute later they were back again, this time to sing a song Paul said they had not performed together since 1967. “Well,” he corrected, “actually, we sang it last night. But before that, not since 1967.” Leaves That Are Green would have brought the concert full circle from Old Friends. Another reflection on mortality and the passage of time, this song tackles it from a very youthful perspective. On Art Garfunkel’s website (www.artgarfunkel.com, featuring the finest message board for Simon and Garfunkel fans on the web), there had been a discussion of whether the lyrics to this song might change slightly if they sang it during the tour. Specifically: “I was 21 years when I wrote this song. I’m 62 now, but I won’t be for long.” Nope. Still 22. But there was a particular poignancy about this song, which started with Paul solo, moved into Art solo, and concluded with them in harmony. Its simplicity and sadness, the heart-rending “that’s all there is,” the too-cheery music for the too-dreary words... Lovely and affecting, but I’m glad they went out on a happier note than that.

The last song of the entire concert was Feelin’ Groovy, and you really got the impression that they meant it. In spite of everything, the passage of years, the toils and tribulations they both have suffered, life is good now for Artie and Paul. This was another get up and dance number, and Art did a bit of this up on stage. Paul, meanwhile, showed his virtuosity as a whistler. We celebrated life and, in particular, these two lives so deeply entwined which have brought us such joy over the years. And then we were done, left with Art and Paul’s gratitude and their music ringing in our ears as we streamed out of the arena. Thus ended the concert of a lifetime.

Observations

What can I say? Simon and Garfunkel are legends. Seeing them perform together was an amazing opportunity I thought I might never have. The first thing that struck me when they took the stage and began to perform was how loud they sounded. This is a rather silly observation, I suppose; when you’re playing to “ten thousand people, maybe more,” you’ve gotta have that amp cranked up. Nonetheless, I felt as though I was hearing their music in a way that I never had before, beyond just the sheer thrill of being in the same room in which they were performing. Being a part of such a massive crowd for this concert was a pretty impressive experience as well. When that many people rise to their feet and cheer, it’s an amazing thing to be a part of. And I don’t believe my brother and I were the only Gen Xers there, either. True, when Art asked who remembered the early sixties a large cheer went up, but Simon and Garfunkel have loyal fans of all ages. I was proud to be among them.

And what of the Old Friends themselves? Utterly fantastic. One thing that struck me in comparison to the 1981 concert was how Art held his own this time around. While he was clearly “blissed out” during the Concert in the Park, it seemed as though it was maybe a bit much for him to handle. I got the impression he felt rather shy and self-conscious before the massive crowd and was content to let Paul take the lead. Here, he spoke as much as, if not more than, Paul and seemed completely at ease on the stage. He also made a deliberate effort to perform for the folks sitting behind the stage. His was the first and last comment of the concert, and when he told the audience, as he always does, that we had charmed his life, as well as Paul’s in this case, it was the perfect words to have lingering in our ears as we left. That’s not to say that Paul was any less effective in his interaction with the audience. His introduction to the Everly Brothers was particularly witty and warm, and his words prior to Only Living Boy were most endearing.

Having been to the American Idol concert in July, which featured, among other things, a constant change of outfits and a crew of back-up dancers, I was refreshed once again to see Art and Paul come just as they were, no frills, no distractions. Heck, there they were on a history-making reunion tour, and they spent the whole two-hour set (which, by the way, had no intermission, though people were free to come and go as they pleased) in jeans and black t-shirts. What you see is what you get with these guys. Let me tell you, I like what I see.

Aside from the lighting effects and the Jumbotron, both of which were extremely well done, the only addition to Simon and Garfunkel were seven instrumentalists of the enormous talent required to bring the proper texture to each of the songs they performed. All are incredibly versatile, brilliant musicians: the aforementioned Warren Bernhardt on piano, Jamey Haddad on percussion, Jim Keltner on drums, Pino Palladino on bass, Rob Schwimmer on keyboards, and Mark Stewart and Larry Saltzman on guitar. All added depth and flair to the evening. But I was also struck once more by Paul’s incredible adeptness with the guitar. He truly is a masterful player, and I think he should definitely have been included in Rolling Stone’s recent list of 100 greatest guitarists. His voice, meanwhile, is of a unique timber and possesses a compelling lonesome quality, while Art’s soaring tenor can still carry the most challenging of tunes. Beyond their abilities, there is still the matter of their renewed friendship, which is of even greater value to many of their fans than the chance to see them perform together. The affection is apparent, and I don’t see estrangement any time in the near future.

Final Thoughts

When asked once what he was feeling standing before all those cheering fans in Central Park in 1981, Art replied simply, “love.” As a member of the audience last night, I felt the same vibe, surging from us but also back to us. This concert is more than two guys getting together and singing a bunch of good songs. It’s a testament to the enduring power of beauty and friendship, despite the hurdles both encounter. The songs remain, in spite of a constantly changing culture. They remain as powerful today as the day they were written. And the friendship remains, tested to the breaking point but stronger now than ever. In an uncertain world, these two men present a vision of comfort. That no matter how dark life gets, there is always hope, and no matter how much troubled water has passed under the bridges we build between one another, the foundation can withstand the strain. This is love. This is endurance. This is their lasting legacy.

For Anyone Who's Ever Loved a Dog

Four weeks ago today was September 11, the second anniversary of one of the most tragic days in American history. It was also the day I found out my dog Sandy's kidneys had stopped working. She had been in good health up until a couple weeks before, and when we had taken her to the vet a week earlier he said she probably had tapeworms. She was 13, but we thought she had at least another year or two in her. We brought her home that evening and stayed with her for the next two days. She died in our living room on Saturday night.

I haven't felt much like writing since then, but since the Livingston Taylor concert prompted me to break my review silence, I figured I should get the ball rolling again. And how better to do it than with a review of one of my all-time favorite books, particularly appropriate to this time in my life? I read Where the Red Fern Grows in sixth grade. I believe it was the first, and still one of the only, books that made me cry. You know what you're in for from the outset of the novel; the narrator tells you up front. But that doesn't make it any easier to read when the time comes.

Where the Red Fern Grows is a tale of the bond a boy shares with his canine companions. It's a theme that has been revisited many times, but with the exception of Old Yeller, I can't think of a more heart-rending take on the theme. The boy in question is a 10-year-old lad named Billy Coleman who lives in the Ozarks and dreams of owning a pair of hunting dogs. His family is poor and can't afford to buy him the dogs he wants, so he spends two years taking odd jobs to earn the money for the hounds himself. When he finally has all the cash he needs, he walks all the way to town to pick them up, deeply impressing the local sheriff. This is a kid who knows what he wants and will stop at nothing to get it.

He names the hounds Old Dan and Little Ann and spends the majority of the book training them and gallavanting through the woods on hunting adventures with them. With Billy's patience and Dan and Ann's skill and devotion to him, they become the best coon-hunting dog team for miles around. Some good, sound advice from Grandpa doesn't hurt either. Billy's dogs are the hounds of his dreams, but the older Billy has already warned us that this dream is not destined to last as long as it should. The intrepid trio deal with heartache in their journeys, but nothing can compare to their final gut-wrenching adventure. If you can avoid it, don't read those last couple chapters in public. It's no use trying to disguise those sniffles.

Where the Red Fern Grows is a homespun tale of the triumphs and tragedies of growing up. The words flow with such natural beauty, taking the readers to a simpler time and place. And the development of Billy's relationship with his dogs is something any dog lover can readily appreciate. I find it very hard to rank books in terms of favorites, but this one has to fall in my top five. It's one of those books I think everyone ought to read at some time or another.

As my luck would have it, I discovered that this book that I have so carefully stored on my shelf for years mysteriously disappeared when I needed it most. I still don't know where it went, but it looks like it's time to admit defeat and buy another copy. This is one book I cannot do without, particularly now that I finally can truly empathize with Billy. If you've never read it, open it up one of these days. You won't regret it.

Livingston Taylor Lives Up to the Family Name in Erie, PA October 4

I am a big fan of James Taylor, but I had never heard of his brother Livingston before this week. That was when I read that he would appear in concert this past Saturday with the Erie Philharmonic. Unfamiliar as I was, I had a hunch that the talent ran in the family. The article certainly presented Taylor as the type of artist I would enjoy seeing perform. So on Saturday night, my dad and I headed over to First Assembly of God and bought last-minute tickets for $10.

While I would have expected the cheapest tickets to land us somewhere in the nosebleed section, they weren't marked with a particular seat assignment so we were told we could sit anywhere except the "A" section. That landed us eight rows from the stage. A pleasant surprise, but this was a church after all, and "the last shall become first" was true in this case! The Erie Philharmonic generally performs at the Warner Theater, but it is under renovations so First Assembly offered its space as a replacement. It worked very nicely as a concert hall.

I have been to concerts of this type before, most notably when I saw Art Garfunkel in Pittsburgh and Buffalo. In both of those cases, the Philharmonic performed alone during the first half, and Art came out for the second half. That was the plan for this show, but they decided to change it up a bit. The Philharmonic, under the direction of Jeff Tyzik, performed a number of hymns and spirituals; I wonder if the location had anything to do with that? The orchestra played Tyzik's arrangement of Amazing Grace, which he said was supposed to present a feeling of unity. The Mercyhurst College Choir lent their vocals to Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, John Williams' Hymn to the Fallen, and a spiritual by Erie native Harry Burleigh.

Livingston came out to do a couple of songs before the intermission. He wore a vest and a blue bow tie and bore quite a resemblance to James, an impression that was only strengthened when I heard him sing. His voice is lower than his brother's but very similar in tone. He sang I Will Be In Love With You and Glad I Know You Well before the break; both were very nice songs, and his guitar picking skills were impressive.

From the start, he seemed like a very down-to-earth and friendly person, bantering back and forth easily with Tyzik as though they were old friends and grinning throughout. He commented that he is generally used to playing for audiences half the size of the orchestra so that was taking some getting used to! I got the impression that he does most of his gigs on his own. He didn't have a band with him on this night.

The Philharmonic's performance of Aaron Copeland's Rodeo was moved to the beginning of the second half, leaving Livingston time to grab a bite to eat after the intermission crowd had died down. My dad and I bumped into him on our way back and directed him towards the concessions, assuring him that they had coffee. The Copeland movements were fun, culminating in the familiar soundtrack for the "Beef: It's What's For Dinner" commercials. After this, Livingston was ready to take the stage once again.

He started out with Somewhere Over the Rainbow, including a little-heard introductory verse to the song. From there, he sang When Sunny Gets Blue, getting down off the stage at one point to dance with a woman in the front row. He gave a nod to his famous brother by singing Carolina On My Mind and let the brass section shine on Blind, a song he had written as a teenager.

Perhaps the most entertaining performance of the evening was the Railroad Medley, including I've Been Working on the Railroad, Chattanooga Choo Choo, Atcheson, Topeka & Santa Fe, and The Trolley Song. He was incredibly animated throughout this performance, acting out the songs from chugging along like a locomotive for the first song to panicking over the attentions of a girl in the last. I wonder if this is a medley he usually performs or if it was specific to this concert, as he noted that our city is right in the rust belt and that railroads have played a big part in Erie's development.

The regular set ended with Banjo Extravaganza, which he introduced by playing Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring on the banjo and commenting on his love of the instrument. He said he was going to play a little something that he didn't expect the Philharmonic to know but that they should feel welcome to fill in should they feel so inclined. He began playing, and gradually more and more of the orchestra joined in, starting with percussion and branching out. When he ended the song, the orchestra kept on playing, so he had to work himself back into the song for a grand finale. This was also a very entertaining performance that reminded me a lot of Eric Weissberg and Warren Bernhardt's Dueling Banjos at Art Garfunkel's concert in Erie.

After receiving a standing ovation, Livingston came back for one a capella encore, a spiritual-like tribute entitled Grandma's Hands. All in all, it was a very enjoyable evening, well worth the ticket price. I only wish he had sold some albums there, because I would have bought one. I now have another Taylor to add to my list of admired musicians. Livingston is not as widely known as his brother, but from what I saw at this concert he shares many of the qualities that I admire in James. His discography is also quite impressive, so finding an album or two of his shouldn't be very difficult. I imagine that the concerts he usually does, without a backing orchestra, have a very different feel to them but are also very enjoyable. I would certainly recommend him to any fans of his brother or of mellow music in general.

September 11, 2001: Remembering Through Pictures

On the second anniversary of the massive tragedy that shook America, I find myself somber and looking for a way to appropriately commemorate the occasion. I woke up this morning to Good Morning America, just as I did two years ago. Today I watched as they replayed the unfolding of events that came into play just moments after I had left the house for school. Today’s was a special program, dedicated entirely to remembrances of that day and profiles of survivors. Going into the 9:00 hour, the children of those who died that day were reading off the names of the victims, a very poignant tribute.

Therefore, while I reflect upon that tragic day myself, I present a volume that captures all of the history and emotion of that day in a moving and compelling manner. Life’s One Nation: America Remembers September 11, 2001 is a commemorative book that all Americans would do well to have on their shelves. The cover itself is remarkable: an American flag made up of tiny portraits of September 11 victims. The back cover, meanwhile, features the photograph of one of the brave firefighters who became such a symbol of courage and heroism in the hours and days that followed. The Introduction comes from former Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, whose leadership in the midst of the terror helped give many Americans a sense of stability. Giuliani was almost killed himself as he fled the area of the collapsing towers. His words are strengthening and full of hope: “We have met the worst of humanity with the best of humanity.”

The book begins with a brief history of the World Trade Center and a discussion of its symbolic importance. It then moves into a timeline of the significant moments on September 11, starting at 5:45 a.m. when Mohammed Atta passed through the security check in the airport and ending at 10:21 p.m. when President Bush ended a security meeting and retired for the night. This 60-page section is punctuated by dozens of crisp, dramatic pictures, such as the New York skyline as the second plane approached and just as it hit, the evacuation of those in the tower, their collapse, the dust-covered people fleeing the vicinity, President Bush being informed of the second plane’s attack while visiting a second-grade class, and the Pentagon burning. It also features a map of the attacking planes’ routes.

The next section features photographs taken by photographer James Nachtwey on September 11. He was awakened when the first plane hit and ran towards the WTC in order to capture the destruction on film. The next pages deal with the aftermath of the attack, from the widespread destruction near the Towers to the swelling of patriotism in the American public. Following this are some profiles of individuals who went beyond the call of duty on that day. These include Todd Beamer, Jeremy Glick, Tom Burnett, and Mark Bingham, the men who attempted an overthrow of the Flight 93, which crashed in Pennsylvania, and many emergency workers, including canines.

Faces of Ground Zero contains full-page photographs of those in close proximity to the attacks, from firefighters and WTC workers to high school students and former Mayor Giuliani. These moving photographs are accompanied by reflections by each subject. The next portion is dedicated to reflections from accomplished writers. Elsewhere, poems by Maya Angelou and Gordon Parks inspired by September 11 are featured. The book ends with The New Normal, featuring poignant photographs of people continuing with their lives in the wake of the national tragedy.

The factual information in One Nation is fascinating and the reflections moving, but most powerful of all are the photographs, for which Life is so well known. These images capture every possible aspect of that day: the destruction, fear, heartache, compassion, heroism… It’s all in these pictures, leaving owners of this nearly 200-page coffee table book an indelible record they can return to on days such as this. As they page through the photographs, they will see a testament to the powers of hatred and love. Let love win the day.

Let Snoopy Tell You How Not to Write!

I am a lifelong Peanuts fan. I am also an aspiring writer. So I was justifiably tickled when my mom bought me Snoopy’s Guide to the Writing Life. It’s not exactly a collegiate primer to the writing life, but to be honest, I’ve never found writing instructional books to be particularly effective for me. And who wants to read something collegiate during the beginning of the first school year following college graduation? This is a pretty quick read, with only the Forward and Introduction taking some time to read. The remainder of the book consists of short reflections by 30 different writers in response to a particular Peanuts strip related to writing. Several strips act as transitions from one reflection to the next.

The Forward by Monte Schulz, son of Peanuts creator Charles Schulz, discusses the cartoonist’s love of literature, which he and Monte came to share. There is also a discussion of the impact Schulz had in his medium, despite his feeling that his offering was lowly in comparison with the authors of great literature. One particularly enjoyable anecdote features Schulz at a restaurant with his daughter. He noticed that legendary actors Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor were seated nearby and expressed his desire to introduce himself and say how much he admired them. However, he did not want to bother them and felt unworthy to approach. Suddenly he heard a voice behind him speak his name, and there were Burton and Taylor, telling him that they hated to intrude but wanted to tell him how much they loved his cartoons.

Conrad provides insight into Schulz’s life and discusses his history and the thought that went into his work. He also touches on the widespread appeal of Peanuts and on the cartoonist’s love of the written word. This portion ends with an acknowledgement to all the writers who participated in this book and prints the most unique letter declining the offer, from John Updike. One of the few who passed up the invitation, Updike said that he was no good at giving advice and that if he had something really good, he would keep it to himself because there are too many writers out there trying to get published.

The essays contained herein are brief, focusing on various aspects of the writing life, from trying to come up with an idea and dealing with criticism to figuring out what is funny and picking a good title. I’ll admit I’d never heard of many of these authors before, but their credits are good and their advice sound. Among the most famous: Danielle Steel (who writes of the feeling, after she has finished a book, that she was merely the instrument by which it was written), Ray Bradbury (who says that he has had stories rejected hundreds of times), and Julia Child (who offers her advice on writing a cookbook). Most essays take about five minutes to read but contain worthwhile information nonetheless.

The highlight for me, though, is the strips. It’s great to have all these writers come together to celebrate Snoopy’s connection to writing, but Snoopy himself steals the show. A couple years ago, a couple friends and I started a weekly writing club with Snoopy as our unofficial mascot. I brought in whatever Snoopy writing comics I could find as inspiration. Poor Snoopy serves as the perfect example of a publisher’s worst nightmare. Young writers can look at everything he does and make a note not to repeat it themselves. Meanwhile, the editors he sends his work to are indicative of the stereotypical response of publishers to young writers. Here, they become the most cold-hearted discouraging people imaginable. To add insult to injury, Snoopy must endure the constant insults and suggestions of Lucy, the born critic.

Not all of the strips feature Snoopy, but most do. There is a curious predictability to his movements that somehow makes me laugh in spite of the fact that I guessed the punch line in the first frame. Many of his stories, of course, begin with the famous “It was a dark and stormy night.” This is usually followed by “Suddenly, a shot rang out!” or some variation thereof; for instance, when Lucy complains of the abundance of violence in the world, Snoopy changes the word “shot” to “kiss.”

Sometimes, he has trouble getting as far as the first word; in one strip, he labors over the beginning, “The,” and presents it to Linus, who responds unfavorably, leading Snoopy to change the beginning to “It.” Other times, he can’t seem to figure out when to quit: “those years in Paris were to be among the finest of her life. Looking back, she once remarked, ‘Those years in Paris were among the finest of my life.’ That was what she said when she looked back upon those years in Paris where she spent some of the finest years of her life.”

Lucy often suggests that Snoopy write a book like a certain existing literary work. Thus, Treasure Island inspires Long John Beagle, Little Women inspires Small Women, and You Can’t Go Home Again inspires You Can Go Home Again If You Want To. Snoopy produces a number of short groaners on his own, picking just the right names for characters in order to set up a particularly pungent pun. All of this work goes well rewarded by the publishers, who send him especially memorable rejection slips, often before he has even sent out his manuscript.

I would recommend this volume to all Peanuts fans, writers or not. Schulz’s strips always seem to be right on target where Snoopy’s writerly plight is concerned. These are among the funniest strips he ever wrote. But the book is especially valuable for writers, giving them a chance to keep the negative example of Snoopy in mind and to laugh at themselves a bit in the process.

Simon and Garfunkel, Together and Apart

I’ve been a big Simon and Garfunkel fan most of my life, but I never really delved much into their history until my freshman year of college, when I hit “Simon and Garfunkel mode” with particular fervor and found myself shocked to wind up in “Simon-less Garfunkel mode.” I don’t recall identifying Artie as my favorite prior to this time, and I’m not entirely sure what made me shift my loyalties most strongly in his direction. I had been familiar with his solo music before I embraced Simon and Garfunkel; when I was two one of my favorite songs was Feuilles-Oh/Do Space Men Pass Dead Souls on their Way to the Moon? from his Angel Clare album. And I empathized with his personality more than Simon’s. And of course, there was that voice. At any rate, he became the clear favorite, and has been ever since. But Paul Simon remains my favorite songwriter, along with John Denver (an odd pairing), and he is probably my most powerful literary influence when I am writing poetry (not that it shows…). When I began my intensive Internet search for everything I could find out about Simon and Garfunkel, and later Garfunkel solo, Victoria Kingston’s book was referenced over and over again. So just recently, gearing up for the possible Simon and Garfunkel reunion tour, I purchased the book online and awaited it eagerly. Simon and Garfunkel: The Biography has heightened, if that is possible, my desire to see them perform as a duo and renewed my appreciation for Simon and Garfunkel’s master wordsmith.

Since I already had spent hours researching the duo before, there were not many grand revelations for me here in the text. The real pleasure for me was in the small details and the recollections of Art, Paul, and the many people associated with them through the years. Details like Paul deciding to become a singer because once, when he was ten, his father commented that he had a nice voice. Like Paul penning a song, at the age of eighteen, entitled “I’d Like to be the Lipstick on your Lips.” Or deciding he would be a failure if he wasn’t a millionaire by age 30. Or Artie coming into the recording of Bright Eyes sick and leaving the piano off the track because the piano didn’t get tuned in time. Or the fact that Art and Paul’s movies Bad Timing and One Trick Pony were shown in parallel theaters at the same cinema. Or that Art spent a year working out the harmonies for the Simon and Garfunkel reunion album Think Too Much, only to have Paul decide to make it a solo effort. Dozens of friends, acquaintances, and business associates weigh in on their experiences with the men by themselves and as a duo, offering fascinating insights throughout the book.

In 32 chapters, the biography takes us through the lives of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel from birth to the early nineties. Their lives, even when not closely intertwined, often run parallel. They release solo albums at the same time, find and lose love at the same time, sink into a depression at the same time, find happiness again at the same time. And while their partnership becomes more improbable as their individual tastes diverge, their friendship apparently remains, for the most part, intact. Comical evidence of this can be found on The Breakup, found on Art’s Up ‘Til Now album. This track features the two in the studio, with Art trying to explain to listeners why Simon and Garfunkel broke up and Paul constantly cutting in with corrections until the address dissolves into laughter. This a comradeship that is enduring but has gone through many rocky times; the two were estranged until recently, when they began spending more time together and contemplating another tour. Interestingly, the book quotes Simon in the early eighties as saying the next big reunion would be in 2000; let’s hope this is that reunion!

This biography is not perfect. Kingston has a tendency to insert a bit too much of her opinion, particularly in regard to songs. For instance, she complains that the extended “lie-la-lie” fadeout in The Boxer is too long (I think it’s brilliant) and says the length is reminiscent of Hey Jude, an unwanted comparison because The Boxer is a superior song (I agree The Boxer is better, but not by much – they’re both great). I also found several typos, and was somewhat stymied by her references to Saturday Night, always leaving off the Live!. And, of course, there is so much to say about these two that there are aspects of their lives not explored as deeply as they could be. Still, I thought the book seemed complete. It was packed with information and really didn’t favor one artist over another. It alternated between Paul’s time on the folk circuit in England and Art’s collegiate studies in New York; between Art’s Angel Clare and Paul’s Paul Simon; between Art’s second marriage, to Kim Cermak, and Paul’s third, to Edie Brickell. There are also 10 nice photographs in the middle, starting with a super-sharp shot of the clean-cut, coordinated 16-year-old Tom and Jerry and ending with a rather fuzzy image of a 46-year-old Paul signing autographs.

Despite its imperfections, I was very pleased with the book and think that it deserves its distinction of being their definitive biography. Anyone looking for a crash course in Simon and Garfunkel should turn to this book, which I acquired second-hand at Amazon. And now, I am off to hear Simon and Garfunkel’s announcement and hope that they say they’re coming somewhere near Erie!

With Old Friends Tour Looming, Simon and Garfunkel's Concert in the Park DVD Especially Appropriate

Well, it’s official. At a press conference in New York City yesterday, Simon and Garfunkel announced that they will embark on a tour of America as a duo. The tour, appropriately named Old Friends, will begin in Michigan on October 8 and stop at more than 30 cities throughout the country. This is terribly exciting news for me, having never had the opportunity to see them perform together live before, and for countless other fans across the country. Just as exciting is the fact that the two musicians whom I admire so much and whose friendship was such an integral part of the music they made seem to have abandoned whatever animosity they may have harbored for one another in recent years. From what I heard in the press conference, they’ve got the groove back in their music, and their spoken words are laced with affection.

It’s appropriate then, that this DVD just came out, allowing fans to watch the two in action as preparation before they go to see them live – or, if they can’t make it, as some small consolation. One of the press conference’s most tender moments came when the duo were asked about their reaction to the Concert in Central Park. Art admitted he hadn’t been pleased with his performance; Paul went on to say, something to the effect of “Let me tell you what happened. We went backstage and I asked Artie, ‘So how do you think it went?’ He just looked at me and said, ‘Disaster.’” They both laughed. "Five hundred thousand people! ‘Disaster,’ he says!” Then Art went on to say what a trip the whole thing was. “We knew that we’d done something right in the sixties, but we didn’t know it was this right.” He said that if you watch the concert, you can tell they are “blissed out.” Indeed you can, particularly Artie. I recall watching VH-1’s 2000 program 100 Greatest Rock and Roll Moments on TV. The Concert in the Park came in, I believe, at 93, and when asked what he felt when he was standing there on the stage in front of 500,000 people, Artie replied, “Love.” I feel the love, and you can too.

I’m not going to give a track-by-track listing here; for that, check out my review of the album. This review is more about getting a general feel for the event in itself. When I got this DVD, I was particularly excited because I had only seen snippets of their performances together before, plus the one on the Grammys. It was, for me, like actually having seen a concert. And I imagine I got a much better view of them than most of the folks in the audience!

The event is introduced by then-mayor Ed Koch, and Paul and Artie take the stage, visibly impressed by the size of the audience. Artie throws his arms out and utters a silent “wow.” Later, he addresses the audience with a huge grin and some nervous rubbing together of his hands: “What a night! I thought it might be somewhat crowded, but we seem to have filled the place.” It’s a lot of fun to watch him in this concert. At 40, his face is still as boyish as ever, framed by that halo of curly blond hair. He’s never looked more angelic. His bliss level is off the charts, but he also seems to be nervous. He seems a little unsure of what to do with his hands, particularly when he is not singing. He also frequently bites his lip with a nervous half-smile, an adorable gesture that Clay Aiken shares, though Clay usually exhibits it in speech rather than while singing. The lip bite adds to his boyish appearance, as does his charming manner of mouthing the words off to the side when he is not singing. This appears to convey not only a love of singing but a deep respect and affection for the lyrics. Accompanying his lip-synching are movements and gestures, most humorously in the reprise of Late in the Evening when he mimes “smoking himself a ‘j.’” Paul doesn’t lip-synch when Artie’s singing, but he also rarely is sitting on the sidelines; when he’s not singing, he’s usually still playing his guitar.

The guys don’t attempt much banter with the massive audience, but when they do it’s great. Early in the show, Paul says, “It’s great to do a neighborhood concert” and indicates, much to Art’s amusement, that the guys rolling loose joints will be donating half their profits to the city. Paul gets a couple of credited solos - Still Crazy After All These Years and Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover - and Art gets three - April Come She Will, Bridge Over Troubled Water, and A Heart in New York (the only tune in the set from Art’s solo career, to the eight of Paul’s). Interestingly, Paul has another which is not listed in the table of contents: The Late Great Johnny Ace, a song I’d heard about but never heard. I was thrilled to find that it was on the DVD after all; it’s not on the CD. The performance is infamous because of what occurred during the singing of it. The minor, melancholy tune chronicles the shooting deaths of three Johns: sixties rocker Johnny Ace, JFK, and John Lennon. Eerily, during the verse about Lennon, who had died the previous year, a man leaps on the stage, shouting; you see Paul jump back, clearly disturbed, but security soon hustles the man offstage and he continues with the song as though nothing had happened. I read in an interview that Paul feared in that moment that he would be killed, right then and there, like Lennon. A very unsettling experience.

Those songs from Simon’s solo career that the duo tackle work very well. They both get really into the energetic Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard, Kodachrome, and Late in the Evening and seem to be having a great time. But it’s the slower songs that are especially well suited to the Simon and Garfunkel treatment. Art lends a special wistfulness to Slip Slidin’ Away, and the voices work together very well despite some apparent confusion prior to the song as to who was supposed to take what verse. To me, though, the high point of the concert is American Tune, exceeding even Bridge (a silky smooth rendition in which, unfortunately, Artie flubs the last line of the second verse, though he doesn’t flinch with his mistake). Beforehand, Art proclaims that he is “in the mood.” That much is clear as pitch-perfect, soaring vocals are perfectly placed here to complement the loneliness in Paul’s voice. Art gets the first verse, while the two take the rest of the verses together. Paul starts on the chorus, sounding alone and vulnerable for the first half. When Art joins him for the slightly more hopeful second half, it’s like a whisper of encouragement. A song that clearly should have been Simon and Garfunkel all along. These latter two, incidentally, will most likely be incorporated into their current tour.

Of the duo songs, probably the highlight is The Boxer, featuring their perfect harmonies and an extra verse not included in the original recording. Though this verse was written years earlier and they sometimes performed it in concert in the sixties, it seemed as though it was written especially for the event. The lyrics are particularly appropriate for this aging duo: “Now the years are rolling by me, they are rocking easily, and I am older than I once was and younger than I’ll be. That’s not unusual. Ah, but isn’t it strange? After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same. After changes, we are more or less the same.” As I watch this track now, it is particularly affecting, recalling Paul’s statement at the press conference that this would probably be the last time that he and Artie embark on a tour like this, implying that time was about to catch up with them. I think he’s being a bit premature here, but it’s a very sobering thought nonetheless.

Then, of course, there is the audience. This is a huge crowd, and they’re clearly loving every minute of the show. They can often be seen dancing or swaying, and they let loose torrents of applause after each song while maintaining a respectful silence during the songs aside from occasional outbursts of cheers (“counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike,” “lookin’ down on Central Park, where they say you should not wander after dark,” "ten thousand people, maybe more”). I found it rather amusing that they chose to start a clap along with The Sound of Silence; not exactly a clap-along song, and they eventually abandon it. But if the guys were “blissed out,” the audience clearly was too. And the band is having a great time as well, and doing a great job. While the some of the songs seem a bit overproduced (just two guys and a guitar would’ve been rather nice, though very impractical for Paul’s hand and for projection), the musicians do a wonderful job with their parts and add depth to the instrumentation.

All in all, this is a very worthwhile investment for any Simon and Garfunkel fan or fan-to-be. If you’ve never seen them perform, this is your chance, and at $15 or less, it’s quite affordable even if concert tickets are not. If you have seen them, this will bring back beautiful memories. And if you’re lucky enough to be going to see them (I fully intend to be!), this exuberant reunion will get you in the mood.

Play Bridge Over Troubled Water Like a Pro!

One lucky thing about having musical tastes reaching back into my parents’ generation is that many of my relatives share those tastes. I found the sheet music for Bridge Over Troubled Water and Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits years ago, in the garage where my aunt had been storing many of her possessions and which we had to evacuate in her absence, and also at my grandma’s house, presumably from the days when my aunts were learning to play the piano. I’m not sure from whom I snagged these books, but they’ve gotten a great deal of use since then, particularly Bridge Over Troubled Water, which is advanced music while the Greatest Hits collection is for beginners. The books were a bit ragged before I got them, and only more so since. I’m not sure how much longer the binding will hold!

This book features music from Simon and Garfunkel’s best-selling final album. The photographs have a rather fuzzy quality to them. The front and back cover are the same as the album, with a frontal shot of Art walking along behind Paul, apparently in the winter as Art’s in an overcoat and Paul has a jacket and scarf. It’s a fun picture because it just has Art looming behind Paul, his face fully visible from just below the nose to his poofy hair, which gets cut off at the top. He’s also a lot broader than Paul, with he shoulders coming out far beyond Paul’s head and his overcoat providing a black background for Paul’s green jacket. They’re walking along outdoors. On the back, they seem to be in a blue studio, wearing the same clothes. This time Art is in front, tilted slightly backwards and looking jaunty, with a spring in his step. Paul, by contrast, seems to be dragging; because of the blur of the picture it’s hard to tell for sure, but it looks like he’s burying his head in Art’s coat. He looks exhausted. It’s a very comical picture.

The inside cover has a sharp picture of a contemplative Paul and Art sitting next to one another, with a photo of a smiling Paul in the studio on the facing page. The back inside cover has a blurry shot of them singing together in the studio. The middle of the book features a headshot of Paul on the left, Art on the right. Paul’s wearing a hood and wisps of hair are whipping out underneath it. Art’s smiling, his hair so illuminated by the sunlight it almost disappears toward the top of the picture. By contrast, his face is shrouded in shadow.

The bulk of the book, of course, is the sheet music. I only play the piano and my brother was never too interested in playing these songs on the guitar, so I can only comment on the book from a pianist’s experience. The title song is the first in the book, and if no other songs were in the collection, it would still be worth the price. Bridge Over Troubled Water is very much a piano song. When Art performs it during concerts, it’s always a chance for the pianist to shine. When played properly, this arrangement sounds pretty much identical to the piano part on the recording, from the first distinctive rolled chords to the ultra-forte finale. I’ve spent much more time with this song than any other, and I can play the first two verses perfectly from memory. The third verse always trips me up, but I am able to play it while looking at the music. It’s a complicated piece of music, but it is well worth the time it takes to learn it. By far the most satisfying piece in the book for the piano.

The book contains a wide range from there. Next is the intricate but rather brief El Condor Pasa and the chord-driven Cecilia. Keep the Customer Satisfied starts out fairly simple and gets more complex, but still remains one of the book’s simpler compositions, not quite sounding right without the brass section. So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright is quiet and legato and well suited to the piano. The Everly Brothers standard Bye Bye, Love is a fun little number whose chorus is fairly simple and easy to punch out with great enthusiasm.

Song for the Asking is soft and flowing with a waltz feel to it. Unfortunately the song also has five sharps, so it’s not much fun to play. The Only Living Boy in New York is also well suited to the piano, though I find that when I play it the song sounds a bit jazzier than it should. Still great, though. One of my favorite arrangements. Why Don’t You Write Me , like Keep the Customer Satisfied, sounds a little strange without the accompaniment of louder instruments. It’s still energetic, though, and fun to play, though I’ve never quite gotten the hang of it.

The Boxer is as nice a piano arrangement as one could hope for, but this is a song meant for the guitar, so it really doesn’t sound right with the piano. Because I like the song so much, it was probably my biggest disappointment in the book. It’s well done, but it’s just the nature of the song to suffer under the treatment of a piano. Guitarists would probably name this their favorite song in the book to play. The book ends with energetic, rather simplistic Baby Driver. Not bad, but as it’s probably my least favorite song on the album, I don’t play it much.

Well, there you have it. For a more detailed analysis of the songs on their own terms, check out my review of the album: Bridge Over Troubled Water. If you’re a Simon and Garfunkel fan who wants to play some of their songs yourself, then this is the book for you!

It May Not Be Christmas, But Rocky Mountain Holiday Is A True Gift

I'm going to put in a little plug here for one of my favorite websites, Muppet Central (www.muppetcentral.com). It's the best gathering place for Muppet fans on the Internet, and it is because of this site that I learned Rocky Mountain Holiday would be coming to DVD. I composed the following in response to Muppet Central's call for fan reviews, and it occurred to me today that I might as well post it here as well. So, without further ado, the brilliance that is John Denver and the Muppets...

Although I am a huge John Denver fan, I purchased Rocky Mountain Holiday on DVD without ever having seen the program before. In fact, not only had I never seen this Emmy-nominated program, I had it in my head that this was a Christmas special like John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together, so I was surprised to discover that this particular holiday was a summertime camping trip. Even better. Being a nature girl myself, I love camping and could appreciate the fun and beauty of this excursion.

Anyone unfamiliar with the frequent participation of John Denver in Muppet shows and specials would quickly pick up on the affection among John and his cloth companions. He comes across as a revered friend inviting his pals to share in the wonder of his beloved Rocky Mountains, which provide an awe-inspiring backdrop in several scenes. While the Muppets may be used to the comforts of city life (especially refrigerators and televisions), for the most part the plaid-wearing compadres seem right at home amidst the forests and streams of the Colorado wilderness. Ironically, it is Fozzie, who claims the closest link with the land because of his “Ursine persuasion,” who seems most out of his league here; after failing to communicate with a fellow bear, his ineptitude becomes the special’s biggest running gag.

There are 16 musical sequences here, leaving time for only brief dialogue between or during songs. But what dialogue is in place is right on target, and there are plenty of one-line zingers that kept me chuckling. For instance, Statler and Waldorf wander the forest throughout the special, separate from the rest of the gang. They periodically add their curmudgeonly take on the scene or song we have just witnessed (i.e. “Show me a home where the buffalo roam, and I’ll show you a dirty house!”). The other Muppets have their moments as well. I particularly enjoyed two of the exchanges during the second song, Going Camping. In the first, John notes that the mosquitos are not bad and Kermit replies that they are delicious. In the second, Janice and Floyd ruminate on how “groovy” and “far out” this place is.

The songs are a mix of campfire favorites, Denver songs, and tunes I presume were written for the special. I suspect the first three songs fall into this latter category. The first two set the stage for the rest of the trip, with John and each of the Muppets commenting on how exciting it is to be on this trip, while the third, a lively ditty by a mountain-dwelling jug band, serves as a PSA of sorts reminding everyone to keep nature clean and not pollute it with heavy machinery or trash. Of the remaining songs, John sings four completely solo. Two of these, Catch Another Butterfly and No One Like You, cement the tender big brother-little brother relationship between John and Robin that develops throughout the special. Both are aimed at convincing the tiny, overzealous Frog Scout that he is someone special and has something to contribute despite his minuscule size. Robin’s struggles and John’s encouragement constitute the strongest continuing plot thread of the special.

Notably absent from the assembly is Miss Piggy, who nonetheless shows up in two flashback numbers: the ensemble She’ll Be Comin’ ‘Round the Mountain, during which various Muppets recall the extravagant entourage escorting Miss Piggy to the mountains over the winter, and Tumbling Tumbleweeds / Happy Trails, a horseback duet between John and Miss Piggy that makes normally level-headed Kermit just a wee bit jealous. Floyd gets a chance to shine in Gone Fishin’, a duet with John Denver accompanied by Zoot's mean saxophone solo, and Kermit takes the lead on the rollicking Grandma’s Feather Bed. In a flashback, Rowlf is unceremoniously toppled from his innertube in the river, and in the present day he suffers from hiccups. Gonzo, meanwhile, keeps up his oddball ways, complaining that John foiled his plans of breaking the record for Standing on the Bottom of a Lake with a Dog on your Head and getting all “duded up” to woo the legendary Man-Eating Chicken that haunts the mountains.

The evening closes with a sing-along, and the Muppets provide lovely harmonies on Home on the Range and Poems, Prayers and Promises. They have a grand old time with the fast-paced, interjection-laced Down By the Old Mill Stream and the reverberating round Oh How Lovely. Then they all sing in unison to produce a full, rich closing number, It’s In Every One of Us, capping off the evening with a reinforcement of their togetherness.

To this day, I can’t help but feel rather melancholy after listening to John Denver. Add Jim Henson to the equation and it ought to make for a double-whammy of regret that the world has lost two such brilliant and compassionate talents. But instead, after watching this special, I am struck by the legacy that both left the world, a legacy that overlapped time and time again. Amidst great music and laugh-aloud gags is a deep-seated message of altruism and respect, making for a trip that I intend to take many more times in the future.

They Can Be Good the Second (or Hundredth) Time Around - Cool Covers Write-Off

I’ve only participated in a handful of write-offs in my nearly four years with Epinions, but this is the third I’ve tackled this week. What can I say: they’re fun, and nice to happen upon when I’m stuck for figuring out what to review next! I have taken up kokladj’s challenge of coming up with a list of ten favorite cover songs. I’ll say just ten cover songs that I like; I know as soon as I’ve submitted the list I’ll think of a couple that should have made the list and displaced a couple others. I’m so bad at picking favorites! After you read mine, check out some of the other entries: kokladj, teamfreak16, sublimist03, shilmafone, pmills1210, insomniac1587, speeddemon531, plorentz, cryptosicko, lambchops, jeff_wilder78.

Well, since it’s one of only two Clay Aiken covers on a widely distributed album at this point, I’m going to have to mention Bridge Over Troubled Water, since I’ve gotta put Clay on here. It’s not my favorite cover of his, but I do think he does a really nice job with it. While Simon and Garfunkel’s version will always be my favorite, Clay’s approach to the song is very different, with much more of a Gospel feel to it (when he performed it on the Jerry Lewis Telethon Monday, he added a “my lord” to the second verse). It’s triumphant and showcases his voice and range marvelously, as well as being a great match to his personality. I really hoped he would perform this song, and I’m glad he did. Originally on Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water album, this is available as a single along with This is the Night.

I recently saw Maid in Manhattan and discovered a gorgeous cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s Kathy’s Song by the late Eva Cassidy. This song is generally a Paul solo effort in the Simon and Garfunkel canon, though Art performs it in concert now. Eva’s vocals are haunting in what Art calls Paul’s most beautiful love song, and her acoustic guitar, like Paul’s in the original, suits her singing very well. The only bad thing about this track is that she only recorded an abbreviated version of the song, containing only three of the six verses. Still, very, very nice. You can find the original version on Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits, and Eva’s on her album Time After Time.

Art Garfunkel is a toughie, since he has recorded so many brilliant covers throughout his solo career, but I don’t want to fill my list with just him. These include, among others, When a Man Loves a Woman, So In Love, Goodnight My Love, and pretty much all of the Songs From a Parent to a Child album. I’m going to go with I Only Have Eyes For You, not necessarily because it’s my favorite, but because it is the one I have heard the most versions of. It seems every time I turn around I hear another rendition of this song on the TV or a movie, and I still think Artie’s is the best. Very smooth and romantic. One album you can find it on is Garfunkel, while it’s the title song of the Flamingos’ I Only Have Eyes For You. (I think this was the first version, but as I said, there have been many.)

Before I leave Artie altogether, I’m going to mention What a Wonderful World, which isn’t just him but also Paul Simon and James Taylor. Talk about a terrific trio! It was recorded in the mid-1970s, so it’s a reunion of sorts for Simon and Garfunkel, but Taylor adds even more rich layers to their harmonic sound. (He also collaborated with Garfunkel later for the Everly Brothers’ Cryin’ in the Rain.) It just seems like it’s three old buddies getting together and singing a song they enjoyed listening to when they were younger. It has a very different sound to it from the original, very mellow and slow as opposed to snappy and danceable, and they really milk the harmonies for all they’re worth. When I first got Watermark, the Art Garfunkel album containing the song, I thought it would be a cover of the Louis Armstrong song. But this is even better, and I like the irony that Art, an architecture and mathematics major in college, sings “don’t know much about algebra.” Sam Cooke’s original can be found on his compilation album Best Of.

The Irish Rovers have also done many great covers, but I’m going to mention Rhymes and Reasons because that is a song by one of my all-time favorite singers, John Denver, but I like their version better. In fact, I may have heard it first; I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard Denver’s version when I was very young, but the first time I remember encountering this song was on The Irish Rovers Greatest Hits. It’s a tender song of hope and peace in typical Denver fashion, with just a bit of a hippie-ish ring to it, as we are urged to follow the example of “the children and the flowers.” The Rovers supplement their version with natural sound effects such as singing birds, running water, and the laughter of children, and the ensemble of Irish voices doesn’t hurt at all either. Denver’s original version is available on his Country Roads Collection.

Speaking of John Denver, I’m partial to his cover of Fire and Rain on Poems, Prayers and Promises. I don’t know if I would say I like it better than James Taylor’s version; they are actually rather similar. Both have extraordinarily mellow voices, similar timbre, perfect pitch. It’s just nice to hear Denver’s take on this plaintive song about an adolescent dealing with the death through suicide of his close friend. Taylor’s version can be found on his Greatest Hits.

I just mentioned House at Pooh Corner in my Nitty Gritty Dirt Band review, but I’ll stick it in here as well. Their cover of this Kenny Loggins song, which is featured on his album of the same name, is my favorite track on Will the Circle Be Unbroken II. It’s a rowdy, electrified version of Loggins’ lullabye-like tune, written at a time when he was standing on the brink of adulthood and reluctant to leave childhood behind. Loggins’ version is wistful, but the Nitty Gritty folks pump it so full of energy that it seems getting back to the Hundred Acre Wood is entirely possible, and they’re going to make sure it happens!

Bob Dylan is a brilliant songwriter, but let’s face it, he doesn’t exactly have one of the most pleasing voices in recent music history. I think he has every right to sing the songs he wrote and it’s great that people appreciate hearing the tunes straight from the source, but I personally find his voice grating, very irritating to listen to. Blowin’ in the Wind, from The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, is one of Dylan’s most famous songs – it’s always the first one I think of – but I think Peter, Paul & Mary do it far more justice than the artist himself does. Theirs is what I always have considered the definitive version, complete with its rich harmonies and simple accompaniment. They sing with true passion, and their voices blend beautifully for a truly resonant cover. You can find it on The Best of Peter, Paul & Mary.

The first time I heard John Lennon’s Merry Christmas / War Is Over, it was on Neil Diamond’s The Christmas Album. It’s very nice, complete with a tambourine and a chorus of children. For the most part, Neil sings the Christmas part, while the kids sing the “war is over” part as a counter-melody. It starts out very quiet and simple and builds to a grand and jubilant conclusion. Very nice, and one of my favorite tracks on the album. Lennon’s version is available on his Shaved Fish album.

The Muppets introduced me to Kokomo, one of my favorite Beach Boys songs. It’s featured on Muppet Beach Party and is just a really fun rendition of a song that’s pretty nifty to begin with. It’s even more fun with the video; lots more, in fact, because of all the crazy things the Muppets are doing in the background on the sunny beaches the song describes. I actually happened across this song as a promo for a Muppet sing-along on another video I had purchased. The Muppets do a bang-up job; I think I like this version better than the original, which is also great and can be found on the Beach Boys’ Greatest Hits.

Well, that does it for me. Ten covers that I especially like. Check out the other reviews in this Write-off for a wide variety of covers. It’s always fun to see another artist redo an already terrific song. Add your own entry and spill the beans on which song remakes especially impressed you!

"Will You Succeed? Yes! You Will Indeed! (98 and 3/4 Percent Guaranteed)"

Dr. Seuss may be considered one of the premier authors of children’s books, but his whimsical rhymes and colorful illustrations aren’t solely suited for the elementary set. Many of his books are especially well-crafted tales that can be equally enjoyed by adults; I place The Lorax and How the Grinch Stole Christmas in the top of that category. But Oh, the Places You’ll Go! seems to be aimed especially at those who are just starting out in the world of adulthood. That doesn’t mean that this book won’t be enjoyed by children, and its message is worthwhile even if the reader is years away from a major crossroads in life. But there are few books that make more appropriate graduation gifts than this, with one foot in childhood and one in the future, with all its possibilities and pitfalls.

The main character in this book is “you,” a random person meant to represent the reader, much like the “you” in The Lorax. This character, a youngish-looking chap in what looks like yellow pajamas (maybe the book is all supposed to be a visionary dream…), is directly addressed throughout the book. He (well, he looks male to me, but is fairly androgynous; again, probably to make him identifiable with the reader, whoever that may be) starts off his adventure on a wide pathway out of town, along which he encounters all sorts of fantastic sights, such as elephant caravans and hot air balloons. Yes, it’s a grand adventure.

But, the narrator warns, the road will not always be paved with happiness. Troubles await you, no matter who you are, and you will need to be prepared to face them. Once you’re down in the doldrums, it’s hard to pull yourself out, and all those options that seemed so appealing before are now only cause for a headache. The illustrations, so bright and cheery in the beginning, grow dark, ominous, twisted. And the narrator warns that when you hit this low point, you may be tempted to just stay there, waiting. Wasting days or years waiting for everything under the sun. Not a way to live.

The book takes a turn back into the brightness of the beginning by insisting that this will not happen to you. You will get through the difficult times and come out on top, better than before! Or maybe not. The illustrations once more become dark and dreary… indeed, rather frightening. That picture of “you” paddling through the dark swirling waters surrounded by yowling Hakken-Kraks is particularly unnerving. But the book ends on a positive note once again, encouraging you to keep going because there’s always hope around the corner, and an adventure filled with peril is better than one never started.

The illustrations are filled with fantastic Seussical creations, but the text itself is pretty straightforward and practical with very few nonsensical words thrown in. It makes perfect sense and contains a lot of good solid advice that happens to rhyme particularly well. And it’s honest, not hiding the fact that the real world can be an awfully scary place and that a roller coaster of emotions is likely to follow. Our principal read us this book prior to our graduation from eighth grade, and I seem to recall its being quoted at my high school graduation as well. In fact, it’s one of the most quoted sources in graduation speeches and consistently remains a high seller when the time of year rolls around for those diplomas to be awarded. It’s no wonder. That Dr. Seuss, he was a pretty smart guy. So take the good doctor’s prescription and get on your way!

I Can Feel the Love Tonight - Bob_tomato's Spread the Love Write-Off

Well, I was scanning through some recent reviews and I came across bob_tomato’s invitation to participate in his Spread the Love Write-Off. The idea: come up with songs, singers, lyrics, etc. containing the word “love” and write about why each is significant. It caught my eye as something unique and kinda reminded me of playing Encore, the game in which players must compete to see how many lyrics they can come up with containing a certain word or theme. So let’s see, here goes…

All You Need Is Love: Maybe this is kinda tacky since it’s the title of bob_tomato’s entry. But hey, I’ve gotta include the Beatles. And while this is certainly not the only song of theirs containing the word “love,” it’s the first one that popped into my head. Pretty simple statement, and a darn good one to keep in mind. It also was the mantra of I Am Sam, a movie I enjoyed very much for its Beatles-heavy soundtrack and its heart. And that adorable Dakota Fanning.

Unchained Melody: That is, “Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time.” Simon Cowell calls it the best song ever written, proving the crusty curmudgeon has a soft spot somewhere. I always knew he did. Clay Aiken performed a fantastic rendition of this song on the second-to-last Tuesday in this year’s American Idol competition, but even he could not outdo the Righteous Brothers. It’s quite simply a perfect record, and one of the absolute best love songs ever recorded. It also is the theme song of Ghost, one of my favorite movies. The orchestral interpretation in the film’s final scene gives me shivers. Good shivers.

For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her: “Oh, I love you, girl, oh I love you!” And that lyric on the page does nothing whatsoever to convey the euphoria of Art Garfunkel’s vocals here. It’s one of the Simon and Garfunkel songs that Art gets to himself, and he makes the most of it, letting his voice float ethereally along until this final crescendo. His extended notes aggravated me when I first heard them at the age of 8, but not anymore. I think they’re brilliant.

Long Line of Love / What’s Forever For: I’ll group these songs together because we were talking about both of them the other day. The latter poses the question “If love never lasts forever, tell me, what’s forever for?” Both are Michael Martin Murphy songs, or at least songs which he recorded. The first talks of the enduring love spouses have for one another in a particular family tree, while the second bemoans the fact that so many people in love are throwing it away. While I’m at it, I’ll throw in Randy Travis’ Forever and Ever, Amen: “I’m gonna love you forever, forever and ever, amen.” Along the same lines as Long Line of Love, and a very catchy tune with cute lyrics. I especially like “As long as old men sit and talk about the weather, as long as old women sit and talk about old men.”

So In Love: An old barbershop-type song with some really swinging harmony. I’ve heard several versions of this; my favorite is Art Garfunkel’s. Just a very fun song with a '50s feel to it.

I Don’t Want to Live on the Moon: My favorite Muppet song, sung by my favorite Muppet. I like it so much I used it as the basis for my screen name on Muppet Central. This song is rather atypical of Ernie, who is usually so hyper and adventurous. He’s caught in a contemplative mode here, gazing out at the night sky and realizing that there’s no place like home. He wants to go away and see the world, but only for a short time. “Though I’d love to look down at the Earth from above, I would miss all the places and people I love.”

So It Goes: I’ve got this one on a Nitty Gritty Dirt Band album, sung by John Denver, who I love forever. Lousy Long-EZ. This is a nice slow country-Gospel song discussing the ultimate impermanence of everything in the world except for love. A really pretty song with a nice message. “…Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up. So it goes with everything but love.”

Longer: One of my favorite love songs, it’s very quiet, contrasting the grandiose scale on which the lyrics work. Just a beautiful, fairly simple song, touching in its earnestness and sincerity. “Longer than there’ve been stars up in the heavens, I’ve been in love with you.” And while I’m on Dan Fogelberg, I might as well point to another of his songs, also on the Greatest Hits album. There aren’t a whole lot of songs out there that I am aware of that are about fathers. I’ve fast become a fan of Luther Vandross’ Dance With My Father, and I also love Harry Chapin’s unsettling Cat’s in the Cradle, but Leader of the Band takes the cake. A mellow tribute to Fogelberg’s father (I presume this is autobiographical), it tries to sum up what this man has meant to him. Very touching. “Papa, I don’t think I’ve said ‘I love you’ near enough.”

Candle on the Water: I am an absolute sucker for Disney, and given their long track record of love songs, I would be remiss to not include at least one. And this is one of the most gorgeous songs in the entire Disney canon. When I think about it, it’s actually quite similar to what I generally call my favorite song, Bridge Over Troubled Water. Similar theme (when you’re in trouble, I’ll be there for you), and even a similar metaphor (in both cases, the water is the source of trouble; the bridge allows safe crossing from one shore to another while the lighthouse allows one already in the water to guide themselves safely to shore). Helen Reddy did a beautiful job with this in Pete’s Dragon, and it is always the first song I think of even though the man to whom the song is addressed only shows up at the very end. It’s also a song of faith, believing in something beautiful against the odds. “I’ll be your candle on the water. My love for you will always burn.”

Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me: I’ve got Clay Aiken on the brain, so I had to stick in one of his songs. Well, I guess I did already, but one where I think he might’ve even outdone the original. Practically every song Clay performed on American Idol contained the word “love,” but I’m going with this one because it’s the song that changed him from geek to chic in the American perception. He already had a lot of fans before this, but he still seemed like a long shot until he blew everybody away on Wild Card night with this song. Man, what a performance. I love Elton John, and there is nothing wrong with his own original version of the song, but Clay’s is so terrific, I think he may have even shown up Sir Elton. “These cuts I have, they need love to help them heal.”

Theme song from Sharon Lois and Bram’s Elephant Show: Hey, at least it’s not Barney, who couldn’t even come up with his own tune for his ever-so-irritating theme song! Okay, I guess it’s not that bad, but in its heyday I got awfully tired of it. But I used to watch the Elephant show when I was little, and I even got to see these guys in concert once (minus the elephant, I believe). It’s a fun upbeat song, and I suppose it doesn’t have much more lyrical merit than Barney’s song, but I like it anyway. “Skinnamarinky dinky dink, skinnamarinky doo, I love you.”

Well, I could go on for pages; I can think of dozens of songs containing the word “love,” and these are just the first few that randomly popped into my head. But I think I’ll give it a rest before I get too carried away and leave some of those other dozens to the other participants! Check out bob_tomato’s entry, and those of whoever else decides to participate. Let’s spread this love as far as it can go!