The artist Paul Simon always lives in the shadow of: “I come in second”
Anyone deciding they wanted to pursue a music career in 1964 had a tough road ahead. Even Paul Simon, one of the best singer-songwriters to emerge from the era, once said it felt like an uphill battle from the get-go, with so many musicians looking at the arena with a look of despair and not a chance in hell.
It’s probably the same reason why 1939 is considered the best year in cinema history. Broken down to a mere few companies establishing the golden age of Hollywood cinema, 1964, for music felt much the same. A handful of artists and bands became so loud and prominent that anybody trying to crawl their way from the bottom to gain a semblance of the fame and popularity they had was operating against the grain.
The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Bob Dylan and The Beach Boys were all names setting the standard for what it looked like to “make it”, each forming the tip of the iceberg that most only paid attention to because nothing else seemed worth it. It’s understandable, too, especially considering how much we still celebrate these acts today, but anyone else around this time had their work cut out for them. Even Paul Simon.
“By that time,” Simon later recalled to Rolling Stone, “The Beatles already existed, the Stones already existed, Dylan already existed. There seemed to be no place to fit in. You couldn’t get up to the feeding trough.” People like Simon also faced a different challenge that often meant using the more popular figures as seminal influences in their own work – something that’s impossible not to do at any given time – but it was always about making these tropes seem original and different enough to bring something new to the table.
While Simon and Garfunkel might’ve gained comparisons to others, he said they also had something few others did: “New York doo-wop.” Still, that didn’t stop the comparisons coming in thick and fast, and while anyone would revel in the glory of being deemed another Bob Dylan-esque character, Simon noticed how those sorts of comparisons mean he’ll always come second.
“There’s always some kind of comparison between us,” he said. Adding: “I usually come in second. I don’t like coming in second. In the very, very beginning, when we were first signed to Columbia, I really admired Dylan’s work. ‘The Sound of Silence’ wouldn’t have been written if it weren’t for Dylan. But I left that feeling around The Graduate and ‘Mrs Robinson.’ They weren’t folky anymore.”
That said, Simon also noted the differences between him and Dylan, and how their tones are actually fundamentally different, something most of us would probably argue if anyone were to ask whether the two artists deserve such side-by-side criticisms. In Simon’s view, it’s because his voice “sounds sincere”, while Dylan’s sounds “ironic”, like “he’s telling you the truth and making fun of you at the same time.” Most artists tried to replicate this duality, but Simon quickly realised that path was a recipe for disaster.
Perhaps that’s why they were able to establish their own footing throughout the era. Instead of being carbon copies of other things done well, Simon was able to maintain a clear vision and grasp of what he wanted to put out, even if it meant accepting the reality of not having the same nuanced knack for multi-layered storytelling technique as the one other person who changed the entire folk game.
Never Miss A Tale
The Far Out Bob Dylan Newsletter
All the latest stories about Bob Dylan from the independent voice of culture.
Straight to your inbox.