In Sheila Weller’s Girls Like Us, a collective biography of songstresses Joni Mitchell, Carol King, and Carly Simon, a friend relates that the latter “has read Anna Karenina about ten times.” Aside from the terrific taste in great literature shown by Simon, the anecdote also suggests an intense identification with Tolstoy’s heroine.
That feeling might evoke alarm among the legion of admirers of Simon, who celebrates her 64th birthday today. Wasn’t Anna Karenina suicidal?
Well, yes—a condition that Simon, despite the dysfunctional family life of her childhood, her adult stage fright, and disappointment in love over the years, does not appear to have developed, thank God.
But Anna Karenina is (and I use the present tense advisedly, because in the hands of the Russian master, she lives as much now as she did in Czarist Russia) far more than a despairing wife. She is also intelligent, funny, warm, loving to her children, and, of course, passionate. Seemingly everyone is drawn to her. All of these qualities shine through Simon’s four decades as a recording artist.
What’s a blog for if it can’t be personal? So, here are a fan’s notes on two close encounters with the woman who helped pioneer the confessional singer-songwriter movement of the Seventies in songs like “No Secrets,” “Anticipation,” “That’s the Way I Always Heard It Should Be,” and (of course!) “You’re So Vain.”
In the early 1990s, on a lunch break from work, I slipped into the now-defunct Brentano’s bookstore on Fifth Avenue (where Scribners’ publishing house used to be) in New York. When I reached the center of the landmark, I was startled to hear cascades of applause on either side of me.
At the moment, I couldn’t figure out what was going on. After all, I’m not accustomed to cheering whenever I enter an establishment—not even at the bookstores I frequent, and certainly not before I’ve purchased anything.
Then I turned around. A lithe woman in her mid-to-late ‘40s, weighed down by a satchel full of books and trailed by what looked like an eager young female publicist, was walking a yard or two behind me. She was thinner than I had expected from all those album covers and Rolling Stone pictures of the prior two decades, making her appear somewhat lankier than she actually is.
But once she flashed that smile at the crowd, with the most famous lips in rock ‘n’ roll this side of Mick Jagger, there was no doubt that I was beholding one half of what had once been pop music’s answer to Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton as the most glamorous, talented, and rich couple in the world.
I needed to buy the book that had lured me to the store in the first place, not to mention get back to the office, so I had no time to linger to watch the singer autograph the children’s book she was promoting.
But nearly 10 years later, I had a longer, more satisfying encounter with her, at the Tower Records outlet at Lincoln Center, where Simon had come to promote—not just autograph, but sing songs from—her new holiday CD, Christmas Is Almost Here.
When she appeared, the crowd went wild. The singer recalled how she had once lived in the neighborhood in the Seventies, before she’d moved up to Martha’s Vineyard.
Simon was appearing that day with her son, Ben Taylor. While she was telling the crowd about his recent CD, she inquired of the store employee on hand where copies of his CD were and how many there were. There were about a half dozen in the whole store. “Only six?” Simon asked, shaking her head and smiling ironically, leaving the distinct impression that when the appearance was over, a long, serious, perhaps not always pleasant pow-wow would take place.
But that was all part and parcel of her intense mother love. As she sang with her son (who, in voice and looks resembled his dad), whatever stage fright she felt must have melted away. She was relaxed and in fine voice. It made me regret the many years and potential appearances that fans were deprived of because of her phobia.
After a few songs, Simon sat down to autograph the CD for her horde of fans, not saying so much that the line would crawl to a standstill but just enough to make people feel they interested her and she was grateful for their support. I still treasure that album and that encounter.
(As long as we’re talking about birthdays, I want to extend best wishes for the day to my friend Brian, who shares with Simon a great love of music.)
That feeling might evoke alarm among the legion of admirers of Simon, who celebrates her 64th birthday today. Wasn’t Anna Karenina suicidal?
Well, yes—a condition that Simon, despite the dysfunctional family life of her childhood, her adult stage fright, and disappointment in love over the years, does not appear to have developed, thank God.
But Anna Karenina is (and I use the present tense advisedly, because in the hands of the Russian master, she lives as much now as she did in Czarist Russia) far more than a despairing wife. She is also intelligent, funny, warm, loving to her children, and, of course, passionate. Seemingly everyone is drawn to her. All of these qualities shine through Simon’s four decades as a recording artist.
What’s a blog for if it can’t be personal? So, here are a fan’s notes on two close encounters with the woman who helped pioneer the confessional singer-songwriter movement of the Seventies in songs like “No Secrets,” “Anticipation,” “That’s the Way I Always Heard It Should Be,” and (of course!) “You’re So Vain.”
In the early 1990s, on a lunch break from work, I slipped into the now-defunct Brentano’s bookstore on Fifth Avenue (where Scribners’ publishing house used to be) in New York. When I reached the center of the landmark, I was startled to hear cascades of applause on either side of me.
At the moment, I couldn’t figure out what was going on. After all, I’m not accustomed to cheering whenever I enter an establishment—not even at the bookstores I frequent, and certainly not before I’ve purchased anything.
Then I turned around. A lithe woman in her mid-to-late ‘40s, weighed down by a satchel full of books and trailed by what looked like an eager young female publicist, was walking a yard or two behind me. She was thinner than I had expected from all those album covers and Rolling Stone pictures of the prior two decades, making her appear somewhat lankier than she actually is.
But once she flashed that smile at the crowd, with the most famous lips in rock ‘n’ roll this side of Mick Jagger, there was no doubt that I was beholding one half of what had once been pop music’s answer to Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton as the most glamorous, talented, and rich couple in the world.
I needed to buy the book that had lured me to the store in the first place, not to mention get back to the office, so I had no time to linger to watch the singer autograph the children’s book she was promoting.
But nearly 10 years later, I had a longer, more satisfying encounter with her, at the Tower Records outlet at Lincoln Center, where Simon had come to promote—not just autograph, but sing songs from—her new holiday CD, Christmas Is Almost Here.
When she appeared, the crowd went wild. The singer recalled how she had once lived in the neighborhood in the Seventies, before she’d moved up to Martha’s Vineyard.
Simon was appearing that day with her son, Ben Taylor. While she was telling the crowd about his recent CD, she inquired of the store employee on hand where copies of his CD were and how many there were. There were about a half dozen in the whole store. “Only six?” Simon asked, shaking her head and smiling ironically, leaving the distinct impression that when the appearance was over, a long, serious, perhaps not always pleasant pow-wow would take place.
But that was all part and parcel of her intense mother love. As she sang with her son (who, in voice and looks resembled his dad), whatever stage fright she felt must have melted away. She was relaxed and in fine voice. It made me regret the many years and potential appearances that fans were deprived of because of her phobia.
After a few songs, Simon sat down to autograph the CD for her horde of fans, not saying so much that the line would crawl to a standstill but just enough to make people feel they interested her and she was grateful for their support. I still treasure that album and that encounter.
(As long as we’re talking about birthdays, I want to extend best wishes for the day to my friend Brian, who shares with Simon a great love of music.)
A most enjoyable blog post. Several months ago I heard an interview of Carly Simon on the weekend WNYC program in the course of which they played "You're so vain." It turns out that when she recorded it, Mick Jagger was in town. She invited him to join her and he sings background vocals. If you listen closely, you can easily pick out his voice. The host described it as a "yelp."
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked the post. The WNYC deejay you're referring to, by the way, is Jonathan Schwartz, who had been on WNEW-FM more than three decades ago. His father was the famous American songwriter Arthur Schwartz ("That's Entertainment"). His memoir, ALL IN GOOD TIME, is marvelous.
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