Two years after Simon & Garfunkel split up, Paul Simon dipped his toes back into record-making with the release of his second solo record (he had recorded the little-heard, acoustic Paul Simon Songbook during the first S&G hiatus).
This self-titled record signaled a departure from the folk rock Simon had recorded with Garfunkel. He introduced reggae and latin influences to some songs and a more contemporary sheen that places this album squarely on the other side of 1970.
Once in awhile I’m pleasantly surprised by my wife falling in love with a song by one of my favorite artists. Normally our tastes overlap only sparingly and the music I listen to the most tends to fall outside of her circle of favorites.
Ben Folds is of course one of my very favorites and my wife is largely ambivalent toward him. However, she is a big fan of most of Ben Folds Five’s debut album (especially ‘Best Imitation of Myself‘ and ‘Video‘) and she recognized the brilliance of ‘Emaline‘ even before I did.
My examination of songs that utilize metaphors has brought me to an Aimee Mann track that is apparently despised by a significant percentage of her fans. I didn’t realize that until reading about it for this blog entry. I’m often surprised to find out which songs are either loved or hated by an artist’s fan base.
‘Superball’ certainly isn’t among my favorite Mann songs, but neither is it something I’d ever think of skipping when listening to her albums. Tucked between two slower songs on her 1995 record I’m With Stupid, the song works as an oddball pick-me-up.
‘I’m On Fire,’ Bruce Springsteen’s classic, slow-burning track from the Born in the U.S.A. album, is a perfect example of effective metaphor in song. He’s not really on fire, you see!
Springsteen uses an even niftier metaphor late in the (way too short) song when he describes waking up with “a freight train running through the middle of [his] head.” Wonderful imagery. Between that and the 6-inch valley in the middle of his skull carved out with a dull knife, I’d venture to say this relationship could be harmful to his health.
Second in my series of songs featuring interesting metaphors is a track from Tift Merritt’s 2010 album See You On the Moon.
‘Papercut’ compares a former lover to one of those nasty little cuts that shouldn’t bother us as much as they do. It’s a fine metaphor for a break-up that continues to tear at us for no good reason.
