
The two songs that showed Paul Simon the secret to writing that will “last hundreds of years”
When reading that headline, specific names come to mind. The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Brian Wilson – but now, all those names appear less as artists, but as leaders, teachers, masters.
It’s rare to find an artist who hasn’t spoken about the lessons learnt from one of them, or the way they’ve shaped songwriting as a whole. But no, Paul Simon’s answer is far more niche.
It’s not that Simon doesn’t recognise the lessons to be learnt from his contemporaries. “The melodies are so beautiful, almost perfect. I began to realise he was one of the most gifted writers of our generation,” he said about Brian Wilson.
He also counts Paul McCartney among the god tier, stating, “I’d put Gershwin, Berlin and Hank Williams. I’d probably put Paul McCartney in there too,” talking about his ranking of perfect songwriters.
Clearly, he’s more than in tune with the impact those around him during the golden age of the 1960s had. However, his true lesson in how to write a timeless song comes from way, way earlier than that. I’m talking centuries earlier.
“If you take really touching words,” Simon began, giving The Big Issue a masterclass in timeless songwriting. Looking for an example, he landed on one he’s known forever. “Let’s say… ’Silent Night’, both in German and English,” he added, picking out the 1800s Christmas carol as his ultimate example for a classic that taught him the ropes.

His argument makes sense, though. “The words are very simple, and they’re very beautiful. But if they’re not connected to that melody, they don’t last hundreds of years, and move people the way they did,” he said. Simon’s point is that the lyrics and melody always have to move in tandem; one is not enough without the other.
He provided a second example. “Take ‘Danny Boy’,” he said, now moving to a 1910s traditional Irish folk song. “It’s so beautiful as a song with a very, very emotional lyric. If it’s just received as a lyric, it doesn’t have the same power”.
Of course, Simon is correct in his view. “And if you come, when all the flowers are dying / And I am dead, as dead I well may be,” ‘Danny Boy’ goes at its emotional climax. Just saying or reading the words doesn’t do much, but alongside the instrumentals, when a band is playing and following that classic melody, it’s enough to prick a tear to the eye.
So Simon knows well, one cannot work without the other. The lyrics of ‘America’ can be devastating and moving, but they would never be as powerful without the humming, introspective music that goes with it. ‘The Only Living Boy In New York’ would always be a touching take on bittersweet friendship, but with the melody of the track and the choir of voices, it becomes something magical.
“That’s how songs grow [with me],” Simon said as the lessons learnt by these classic tunes are that starting with the music and letting the words follow won’t steer you wrong. Sometimes, it’ll steer you in the direction of a classic that will survive centuries.