Live Review: Paul Simon & Rufus Wainwright

2 April 2013 | 12:14 pm | Guido Farnell

Of course everyone jumps to their feet for You Can Call Me Al and the dreamy glittering guitars of Graceland and we leave the auditorium to Sinatra’s swinging version of Mrs Robinson – a playfully cheeky move on Simon’s part.

Tonight kicks off with 50 minutes in the company of the charming Rufus Wainwright who, seated at a grand piano, quickly reels off a set of greatest hits without the assistance of a band. Tear-stained and supremely melancholy, The Maker Makes elicits a rush of applause that suggests Wainwright has brought plenty of his fans to tonight's gig. Stepping up to the front of the stage, Wainwright accompanies himself on fuzzy guitar for a lilting version of Out Of The Game. Acknowledging that Paul Simon is his neighbor in Montauk, Wainwright gives us a song named after the neighborhood, which drolly talks about returning home to observe your two dads growing old at various stages of their relationship. Over the years, Wainwright has evolved into a songwriter to be reckoned with and this is best exemplified with a flawless version of the eloquent Poses, which despite the stripped-back arrangement seems to fill the arena.

Paul Simon may be diminutive in stature but he simply towers over most singer-songwriters with sheer talent and an abundance of classic songs from a career that has spanned 50 years. It takes a moment for Simon and his big band to crank up but they emerge glorious with the upbeat Gumboots that instantaneously has the crowd cheering. At 71, Simon's voice has not changed at all and he shows no sign of slowing down. Dazzling Blue from his 2011 album So Beautiful Or So What demonstrates that he can still deliver the goods. It is not long before Simon takes us back to the '70s with the amusing 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover and the funky Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard. As the set progresses it becomes apparent that Simon and his band exist at the intersection of a broad range of roots influences brought into a purely pop context. They slip from the Soweto Afropop that permeates tunes like Crazy Love, Vol 2 and Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes to the jumping zydeco of That Was Your Mother. Eventually Late In The Evening comes on like Mardi Gras in New Orleans spreading an infectious jazzy funk vibe. In a surprise move Hearts And Bones morphs into the classic bluesy rock'n'roll of Mystery Train and Chet Atkin's Wheels. Later we are treated to covers of Here Comes The Sun dedicated to George Harrison and then Bo Diddley's grinding Pretty Thing. Simon silences the entire arena when he comes out for the first encore, playing the haunting The Sound Of Silence on an acoustic guitar. It is one of three Simon & Garfunkel songs to feature this evening, along with The Only Living Boy In New York and a faithful reproduction of The Boxer, which brings the night down. Primarily musicians not entertainers, Simon and his band work through the set with minimal interaction with the crowd. When he does talk to us it feels awkward and fumbling but there is nothing to complain about as long as the sweet music keeps coming. Of course everyone jumps to their feet for You Can Call Me Al and the dreamy glittering guitars of Graceland and we leave the auditorium to Sinatra's swinging version of Mrs Robinson – a playfully cheeky move on Simon's part.