Paul Simon in Atlanta: Vocally diminished, but the fighter still remains
Eight years ago, Paul Simon wrapped what he dubbed “Homeward Bound — The Farewell Tour.” At age 76, he decided he was ready to close that chapter of his life.
But last year, as many artists do, he changed his mind and embarked on the 55-date “A Quiet Celebration” tour. On Monday, the tour made a largely sold-out stop at Synovus Bank Amphitheater at Chastain Park, where he has performed several times over the years.
Earlier in the day, the weather forecast looked grim and the venue sent out a social media post warning of potential issues. But rain skirted the area and ponchos were used as cushions instead.
Simon arrived to a dry stage at 8:20 p.m. and noted cheekily that he was wearing a peach shirt under his casual jacket. He then explained that he was going to play his entire 2023 album “Seven Psalms” followed by “a little break, a bunch of hits and stuff that’s interesting.”
The night was set up to accommodate an aging musician, who lost nearly all his hearing in his left ear while recording his contemplative “Seven Psalms.”
He’s made major adjustments on stage, including adding more speakers around him to hear better.
And he named the tour “A Quiet Celebration” for a reason.
“I’m going through my repertoire and reducing a lot of the choices that I make to acoustic versions,” he told CBS Morning News in late 2024 before the tour. “It’s all much quieter. It’s not ‘You Can Call Me Al.’ That’s gone. I can’t do that one,” Simon said.
Indeed, his current tour omits several key songs from his extensive repertoire that he played during the 2018 tour. Besides the brass-heavy “You Can Call Me Al,” he dropped classics like “Kodachrome,” “Still Crazy After All These Years,” “Late in the Evening” and the iconic “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”
So this was no rabble-rousing dance party. Instead, fans were treated to an immaculate, intricate, scaled-down concert.
Let’s get real: At age 84, Simon’s signature tenor has lost significant range and depth, replaced by a frail world wariness that often required him to sing-talk some of his verses. But his musicality and ability to tell a story remain undiminished. And his talented backing band was able to dial down the volume without diminishing the impact of any song.
Not too long ago, this low-key setup might have caused problems at Chastain, which for decades was known as the place where people brought in boxed wine, candelabras, crackers and brie and gabbed during shows as if they were in their own dining room. But since Chastain ended its concert subscription series in 2019, the default option has been more traditional seating with no outside food or drink.
For Simon, the sounds of silence were beneficial. During his low-key “Seven Psalms,” the fans were Atlanta Symphony Orchestra-level attentive, allowing the flute, cello, and acoustic guitars to take center stage. And he was likely warmed by the diversity of ages in the crowd, proof his music has transcended generations.
He also wanted the audience to be present.
Security actively stopped people from taking photos or video, now considered normal concert behavior. Fans largely complied. Once darkness became our friend, it was jarring to see the expanse of Chastain’s bowl swathed in shadows, unencumbered by smartphone lights as if we had been transported back to 1996.
During “Seven Psalms,” Simon explored his own mortality and tangles with faith, interspersing lead song “The Lord” between other tunes. While he sang, “The Lord is a meal for the poorest/ A welcome door to the stranger,” he also added, “The Lord is the ocean rising/ The Lord is a terrible swift sword.”
For a few songs, Simon brought out his wife and fellow musician, Edie Brickell, who he met in 1988 while she was promoting her hit album “Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars” on “Saturday Night Live.” The “What I Am” singer, with her distinctively off-kilter phrasing and warm mezzo-soprano, provided a handful of solo lines and lovely harmonies with her husband.
After intermission, Simon returned in ball cap, jeans, purple tee and a loose button-up shirt, looking as if he was ready for a gentle stroll through Central Park.
His 18-song post-“Seven Psalms” section featured a few of his biggest solo and Simon & Garfunkel classics but was no Eagles-like greatest hits recitation.
For every “Slip Slidin’ Away” and “Graceland,” he sprinkled in lesser-known songs like the melancholic “Train in the Distance” and whimsical “Rewrite.” And he introduced the last surviving member of his Graceland band, Bakithi Kumalo, before “Under African Skies,” which added another layer of wistfulness to the concert.
By 10:20 p.m., the audience was clearly yearning for something upbeat and he finally gave them what they wanted: a boisterous “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” got the crowd on its feet for the first time.
He kept the energy going during the encore with “Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard” with Brickell providing the whistles, followed by “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover,” with fans supplementing Simon with a hearty singalong to the snarky chorus.
Simon broke the momentum by inserting a deep cut from his 1973 album “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon,” a pleasant, midtempo jazzy tune called “Something So Right” about how difficult it is for humans to accept good things in life.
He then segued into “The Boxer,” an apt song about resilience and perseverance that he also sang on “SNL” after 9/11.
After bowing with his band, Simon stayed on stage solo to tackle two more tunes in pure acoustic form. First up was “America,” which he added to the set just last week after the country’s 250th anniversary celebration.
But this is not Neil Diamond’s ode to the immigrant experience. Rather, it was Simon and Garfunkel’s 1960s quixotic quest for the American Dream while hitchhiking across the United States. The tune has lost none of its resonance 58 years later.
He ended with “The Sound of Silence,” yet another lyrical masterpiece that provided a guttural, emotional punch to a night when everyone in the audience knew that this might very well be the last time Simon sings a song in Atlanta.