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)

I have a fascination with wordy songs. Done well, I think they can make a song into a great intricate system of hidden compartments and false bottoms. I love coming across songs with secrets, letting them reveal themselves over many listens. Nuance, I guess you’d call it, but all spangled up with syllables.

I submit this verse from Joni Mitchell’s ‘Come in From the Cold’.

Is this just vulgar electricity
Is this the edifying fire
Does your smile’s covert complicity
Debase as it admires
Are you just checking out your mojo
Am I just fighting off growing old
All I ever wanted
Was just to come in from the cold

Had a wonderful evening of Joni sycophancy in Melbourne recently. Australian jazz singer Kristin Berardi was the standout for me. Her interpretation of ‘Little Green’ was like astral travelling – shivers and prickle-tears, the whole bit.

The night got me thinking about poetry and lyrics, and I realised that my favourite musical lyricists tread the line between them. I don’t think lyrics are poems, and I don’t think they should be. But just occasionally, when they’re both, I have my perfect musical moments.

This train of thought is a long one, it turns out. It’s uncovered a massive database of lyrics in my brain. So I’m going to go on about this a bit. Stay tuned, there’s more coming.