Listening to Paul Simon croon over the arena last Thursday in that unassuming, sweet voice of his, I realised that it wasn’t exactly youth you could hear within it – the guy is 71 now for God’s sake – but the essence of its point of difference is definitely still there, the way you’d recognise a face you haven’t seen for years.
The adored songwriter was accompanied by an entourage which swapped shiny instruments throughout the set, particularly of the kind that you shake or bang. On stage left was an augmented rock kit and stage right was the domain of the auxiliary percussionist, filled with multiple toms, cymbals, woodblocks, and did I see some timpani? Every sound was didactic.
Hearts And Bones featured a very tenderly played sax and a wicked triangle solo, after which the band moved into full locomotion mode with harmonica mimicking the chugging brass section.
The lead guitarist was a sasquatch next to the diminutive Simon, with a grey wreath of hair floating around up there. He provided back-up harmonies on Slip Slidin’ Away, and was an all-round baller. After a frenzied chromatic piano solo from keys guy the set began to move toward Simon’s more saliently South African-inspired tracks, with all of the percussive elements preserved and then some. There were plenty of rim shots on unfamiliar-sounding floor toms; rich, beautiful horn harmonies plus more woodblock and tambo. The auxiliary guy’s snare brushes were as big as yard brooms.
During Crazy Love Vol II Simon showed how present he still is; he plays the role of the narrator like a boss, not just reiterating the tale but calmly owning it. So Beautiful Or So What was awesome; the keys player picked up these big fat plastic maracas with twine and bead doilies sewn around them and sassed the shit out of the track.
Towards the end we were treated to Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes, The Sound Of Silence and Late In The Evening, and Here Comes The Sun and You Can Call Me Al were busted out during the encores. It was a great mix of stuff and a bloody great time was had by all, except maybe the uptight guy sitting next to me.
BY ZOË RADAS
Photo credit: Charles Newbury
LOVED: The show was mixed particularly well.
HATED: Security not letting us dance in the aisle.
DRANK: Some chocolate Van Gogh concoction my housemate made, out of a metal canteen.
