Although much of America’s pop and rock music can be traced back to Africa, Paul Simon’s fusion of his own stream of consciousness poetry with South African rhythm was something new to the world of music. Through various musical ideas and concepts, Simon’s 1986 release of Graceland reminded listeners that humankind was unified despite cultural differences. The album exemplified not only the rich heritage of black South Africans, but also the culture’s struggle due to apartheid. The haunting images of death and oppression that surrounded South Africa, had once made it hard to remember that life went on in all of its forms. Unlike many cultures today, South African culture encompassed music into their everyday lives. Dance, story-telling and religious practices were all grounded on the music of the culture. However, this South African music culture had been mostly suppressed due to the censorship of the South African government. Before the release of Graceland, few black South African artists had ever been heard on western radio stations, let alone seen on mainstream television. However, following the release, the album bestowed a mystical quality to South Africa, proving to the world that there was more to South Africa than suffering. And although the album was surrounded by much controversy, Simon’s work ultimately enabled black artists to become household names in a market to which they previously had no access.
For Black South African musicians, the international success of the Graceland project was important for the prestige and popularity it brings at home. As Ray Phiri (guitarist on the album) says, “Our people sent us to the lion’s den; they want us to bring back the lion’s skin, and we will do that.” The fact that international success is taken as the gauge for achievement domestically is partly a consequence of the structure of the global music market. Since the US provides more economic capital for production and consumption than any other nations do, the transnational record industry is geared primarily to American interests. These interests therefore dominate and shape the domestic music production in countries like South Africa where aspiring musicians and record companies are desperate for the financial gains an international break promises.
Essentially, many South African musicians regarded Simon as the single most important factor in bringing South Africa’s township rhythms to world prominence. The musicians that worked with him mostly loved working with him. Joseph Shabalala, leader of Ladysmith Black Mambazo, refers to Simon as “Vutlendela,” meaning “the man who opened the door.” Likewise, Ray Phiri labeled the album as “the best thing that ever happened” because Simon enabled musicians to let “the world know that South Africans also have something to say” through their music. In wake of the album’s release, Ladysmith Black Mambazo became the first South African black group to receive airplay on white radio, while Ray Phiri went on to record with everyone from Laurie Anderson to Willie Nelson. For Simon, the collaboration was a chance to record with a unique group of talented musicians. For the South Africans, the opportunity was much more.
As an indirect result of Simon’s Graceland world trek, foreign interest in South African rhythms grew to such an extent that almost every group with any credibility found itself on the invitation list for international cultural festivals, promotional tours, and even major concerts. All this may have happened anyway; but until Simon’s foray, South African music was almost obscured by West African rhythms on the world-beat map. More importantly, Graceland gave township rhythm a level of respectability it no longer had among township people themselves. In the ‘70s and early ‘80s, most black acts leaned toward American funk dance music, believing it to be superior to the local musical brews. Following Graceland’s release, that pendulum had swung back toward rhythms like “mbaqanga” and “kwela.”
Listening to Graceland, one gets the sense of an artist submitting to, and being swept up by, musical forces he is still trying to master. Simon’s very urbane literary sensibility pulls against the simplicity of the music and lends the songs a kind of double vision. The music extends and enriches the language while the lyrics meditate on the music. For Simon, the mbaqanga rhythm he incorporates seems to represent a renewed sense of faith and connectedness after the relative commercial failure of Hearts and Bones. The singing incorporated in Graceland has lost none of its studied wimpiness, and the grooves just ooze with such buoyancy that one could float a loan to Zimbabwe on it.
Though the album itself radiates with musical brilliance, there was much-publicized controversy regarding Simon’s intentions. The first wave of criticism accused Simon of breaking the cultural boycott to “profit from the music of Black South Africans” and exploit poor, underpaid performers. However, this accusation does not hold much water, considering Simon paid the musicians $196 an hour, triple the US pay scale, for their collaborations. Additionally, musicians who provided key instrumental licks and melodic fragments were offered writers’ royalties, in which they still continue to benefit from today.
Analyzing “Homeless” allows us to further debunk the theory that Simon’s intentions were to exploit and discredit his partners. The lyrical content of Ladysmith Black Mambazo’s original song, "Homeless," can be considered the most anti-apartheid statement of the album, as the theme of homelessness makes reference to the forced movement of black South Africans to government homelands. By including Ladysmith’s powerful song on the album, Simon sought to showcase the group’s talent, while exposing this theme of homelessness that surrounded much of Black South Africa.
The second criticism is more political in that some critics accuse Simon of undermining the anti-apartheid movements for the benefit of “enhancing his own career as entertainer” rather than using the opportunity to perform music for the direct benefit of the liberation movement. However, Simon has been clear and consistent in his insistence that he was focused on dealing with artists rather than politicians. In fact, one can argue that by staying true to the traditions of Black South African music, Simon showed respect for the mistreated people and helped an international audience to glimpse a culture that had been censored and oppressed for decades. As Graceland became a phenomenon, people began putting a very clear human face on the victims of apartheid. Suddenly, here is Joseph Shabalala. Suddenly here is Ray Phiri. Suddenly, here are these charismatically gifted people that are being exploited by their own government. Graceland resonated a powerful emotional recognition that enabled people to realize the brutality and injustice that surrounded the apartheid.
To dive a little deeper, in the track “Under African Skies” Simon sings of a man walking “his days under African skies,” following the path “marked by the stars of the Southern Hemisphere.” Through his lyrics, Simon urges listeners to look to Africa, where the foundations and roots of music and humanity are still alive. This not only bestows a mystical quality to Africa, but also gives validity to a society that many considered primitive. Moreover, Ray Phiri’s argument that the lyrics “take this man and give him wings to fly through harmony,” are a statement linked to the apartheid of South Africa. Simon’s song talks of the validity of the culture and heritage of black South Africans and of their need for freedom and cultivation. Certainly this contradicts the argument that Simon’s intentions were to solely revive his career at the cost of undermining the anti-apartheid movements.
Simon has stood firm about his work in South Africa, admitting he has no regrets. In regards to the criticism that surrounded Graceland, Simon explains, “I’m with the artists…And to tell you the truth, I have a feeling that when there are radical transfers of power on either the left or the right, the artists always get screwed.” The political controversy that surrounded the album’s release could have been a historical disaster and the end of Simon’s career. Instead, it became a bridge over trouble waters. The highly controversial album brought many South African musicians to the world’s attention and placed the abysmal apartheid in the spotlight. If one wipes away the political controversy surrounding “Graceland,” what’s left is the undeniable fact that the power of art lasts. The moment the political dispute that was once there is gone, the music and its message remain.