I grew up listening to this spectacular Paul Simon album. The title track is one of those rich, mysteriously complex songs I previously wrote about in reference to Joni Mitchell’s work. Graceland is epic, a song you can’t even remember not knowing. To me it’s memories of sunshine and Saturday housework, it’s fun and energy and dancing in the kitchen. I can curl up and disappear in this song.
Deconstructing a song is an enjoyable thing to do (although I’m sure some would say killjoy-able). It’s also a good writing exercise for NaBloPomo, in which I have become neglectful.
The lyrics of Graceland tell the story of a man and his son on their way to visit Elvis Presley’s legendary Tennessee estate, now a museum and tourist destination. The verses take us through the narrator’s memories and the observations that frame his pilgrimage to Graceland – a journey that is mysterious, even to himself:
For reasons I cannot explain there’s some part of me wants to see Graceland.
We learn that the trip follows the breakup of a relationship (‘Losing love is like a window in your heart / Everybody sees you’re blown apart’). In this context, Graceland takes on a mythic resonance, suggesting that it represents an inner destination as well as an outer one.
The destination may also be a musical one for the narrator. This is where the real genius of the song kicks in for me, its uncanny layers of meaning. The first line of the song (and to me one of the finest song-lyric metaphors ever written) is
The Mississippi Delta was shining like a National guitar.
The narrator’s preoccupation with musical imagery in the song, from the National guitar to the looming spectre of the Graceland estate, offer a picture of a musician’s emotional landscape. As listener, I am led to feel that the journey to America’s musical Mecca is far from incidental.
The lyrics of Graceland leave us with disarray and a lingering hope:
I have reason to believe we all will be received in Graceland.
We don’t know if the narrator’s aspirations for personal and musical deliverance are met. We never quite reach Graceland in the song.
Yet there’s no listening to this song without being affected by the joy and energy of the music. This could be read as a paradox of the song; I prefer to think of it as the clue to its resolution. Built into the fabric of the song, in the dancing, the drumming, the life of it, is a message saying: “It worked! I made it!”
The inner and outer landscapes of the song – its musical body, its litter of disruption and ending – is rendered with so much joy and faith, one can’t help feeling the destination was reached after all. Somehow, the song interlaces New York City, Memphis and Soweto with disarray, hope and fulfillment. It works for me.
What about you?
(Photo courtesy of Waka Jawaka)
