The Paul Simon album that saw him delete Art Garfunkel’s contributions

There are plenty of sad splits in music, but Simon and Garfunkel’s really hurts. Maybe because it feels like a crime to separate them, from the music to the way the two men’s voices so perfectly and naturally harmonised. Or maybe it’s the context, knowing how long-running that friendship was before fame tore it apart. Perhaps it’s even the repeated glimmers of a possible reunion and then the refreshed sadness when they fall through dramatically, like this moment when Paul Simon literally hit delete on Art Garfunkel.

Maybe the music industry is to blame. For years and years before the world knew Simon and Garfunkel as a band, they were already a duo. They’d been best friends since school, training their own musical minds together, learning how to harmonise together and write. They were in doo-wop groups and other units like Tom and Jerry, their earlier form that Simon tenderly references in ‘The Only Living Boy in New York’, using that old nickname to address his old friend to say his sad goodbye, singing, “Tom, get your plane right on time”.

When they eventually broke through, it was their mutual dream coming true. They’d worked and strove hard for this, but they’d done it as a pair. That’s how it was supposed to be, but with the added pressure of public attention and the kinds of opportunities that get thrown at you when you suddenly find yourself famous, it got harder to see that.

It also got harder to hold on. Now adults with the world at their feet, no longer kids dreaming in Queens, it became a more challenging task to grow together. Both had different interests, inspirations and new dreams. Garfunkel wanted to act, Simon wanted to push the music further—their split came when they splintered off to do just that and released Bridge Over Troubled Water as their farewell.

But time brought them back. In 1981, it seemed that all of it was water under the bridge (sorry) as the band performed a reunion show in Central Park. When that went well, they did more shows. When that went well, there was talk of an album, which is where it collapsed.

How do you handle making an album together when so much time and tension have passed? Are you supposed to address that in the lyrics? How do you handle the fact that both of your lives have moved on, meaning that both members have things they want to say that the other has no involvement in? In their time apart, Simon had fallen in love, got married and swiftly suffered a heartache. He wanted to write about that, but then, where does Garfunkel fit?

That was the issue that plagued these sessions. The songs were largely about Simon, and so his counterpart felt like a tag-on rather than an equal teammate and star on the album. Garfunkel wanted to have just as much say in arrangements and building the songs, and Simon, who was now used to being a solo artist, hadn’t considered that.

So, it fell apart. After months of arguing while recording, falling back into old habits and fights that had caused the split in the first place, the unit splintered again, but dramatically. There was no farewell album this time, as Simon literally hit delete on all of Garfunkel’s contributions to the record.

They were wiped. All trace of him was gone. The album name was changed, and suddenly, Simon was releasing Hearts and Bones, a solo album featuring all the songs he’d made for these sessions with his old bandmate’s suggestions and sound deleted from it. Simon did the musical equivalent of murder when he threw those takes in the bin, and it was a blow they’ve still never truly recovered from.

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