Understanding Simon and Garfunkel’s farewell: What is the story of ‘The Only Living Boy in New York’?
It is a little-known fact that Paul Simon entered the world of pop culture at the same time as Elvis Presley.
It was around 1956, and rock ‘n’ roll was enchanting its first swathe of junior obsessives. Simon and his pal Art Garfunkel quickly became converts to this daring new movement. In fact, the duo we now know as Simon and Garfunkel even had a hit when they were only 12 or 13 years old. Or at least it was a “neighbourhood hit”, as the curly-haired singer puts it a few decades down the line.
Nevertheless, this local success was enough to set the school kids dreaming about the bright future surely lay ahead of them. They then had a few bigger hits in the coming years with ‘Hey Schoolgirl’, which rose to 49 on the pop charts. But then things sadly began to flounder. The pair went their separate ways, searching for success in a more studious, adult fashion at university.
Between 1957 and 1964, Simon wrote a whopping 30 songs and just about all of them bombed. Going solo had not worked out, and he missed the days when he was fooling around with Art Garfunkel under the double act moniker of Tom and Jerry. Those happy childhood days when music was a hobby, and a track, even getting a single play on local radio was a point of pride, seemed a world away when the only thing in Simon’s life that money couldn’t buy was poverty.
Of course, fate would bring them back together in years to come, and after a struggle that had Simon thinking that he might quit the industry entirely, lavish success would finally come their way. By the time 1970 arrived, the duo who once swaggered around as Tom and Jerry, covered in pimples and imagining their high school stage was Maddison Square Garden, had now truly hit upon heights that their hero, Elvis Presley, had made possible.
Their acclaimed debut, Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M., might have only peaked at 30 in the US album chart and 24 in the UK, but they went on to close the decade of peace and love with just shy of 90 million record sales, making them the fourth most popular musical act of the 1960s. The third-placed artist with 110 million sales was none other than The Rolling Stones.
In the years after that, Simon would claim that his own act were an even bigger phenomenon, almost eclipsing rock ‘n’ roll with a new adult edge. “I never compare myself with the Rolling Stones,” Simon told Rolling Stone in 1972. “I always was well aware of the fact that S. & G. was a much bigger phenomenon in general, to the general public, than the Rolling Stones.”
But in 1970, it was also set to come to an end rather swiftly.
So, what does ‘The Only Living Boy in New York’ mean?
While the duo might have been the biggest act in music at the time, this fortunate status had not been an easy one to achieve. After a rigorous ride that led them to the summit via notable troughs, it seemed ver lonely at the top… especially for Simon.
His buddy, the childhood friend who was once the happy Tom to his Jerry, was now heading off to star in Mike Nichols’ film Catch-22. Simon’s own supposed role in the movie was scrapped, leaving him at home licking his wounds. As he bemoaned at a concert in 1969, “We haven’t been around in about a year. During that period, Arthur became a movie star. I wasn’t in that picture,“ he said like a Woody Allen character to a sudden outburst of audience laughter.
He added, “Because nobody much cares about the little songwriter of the group any more. I’m just left to write my songs about sex and drugs, whatever.” In short, he felt spurned, Garfunkel was eyeing up new avenues of creativity, and the duo seemed to be docked in troubled waters. But they were also riding a wave of success that they had always dreamed of.
So, Simon wrote a song that explored these two poles. He couldn’t help but feel bitter, and yet there was a sweetness to seeing his little old Tom live out a dream of starring in a movie, too. So, with a hushed beauty, he penned the line, “Tom, get your plane right on time, I know your part’ll go fine.“ That’s the resigned and reflective mode that the track continues throughout.
Simon was holed up in New York City, keeping his nose out of the papers, reporting on their problems, and trying to bask in success. As he serenely puts it himself, “I get the news I need on the weather report,“ and chirping some brightside thinking with the line, “Hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.“
Although the inevitable parting was painful, acted out by Garfunkel flying off for the feature film, Simon also couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude, too. “Hey, let your honesty shine,“ he sings, “Like it shines on me,“ reflecting the stirring sincerity that his singing pal always brought to his songs, as Garfunkel fittingly chimes into the background with glowing ethereality, “Here I am.“
In essence, it is a reconciliation of a bittersweet ending, and it could barely be more beautiful. It’s Jerry’s farewell to Tom.
