Paul Simon

Songs From The Capeman

 

 Jonathan Cohen

 

Paul Simon is the rare case of a '60s musician who hasn't compromised his later success by releasing inferior albums just to keep his name in America's musical consciousness. When he does release new music, it's innovative and excellent, as demonstrated by the quality of material on Graceland and The Rhythm Of The Saints.

 

It's this attitude that has caused Simon to be labeled as a control freak, and it's probably why Songs From The Capeman was, at the time of its release, the artist's first new album in six years. Songs is an hour's worth of music from Simon's ill-fated Broadway musical "The Capeman," based on the true story of a Puerto Rican teenager named Salvador Agron who murdered two people in New York in the summer of 1959 (the nickname stemmed from the fact that Agron was wearing a black cape at the time). Subsequently, Agron became the youngest person in state history to be sentenced to death, although his sentence was commuted and he wound up serving 20 years in prison. He died of natural causes in 1986.

 

Songs captures the historical context of the crime flawlessly, opening with the a cappella, doo-wop inflected "Adios Hermanos." The tune serves as an introduction to Agron's character, describing his mindset as he entered the courtroom for sentencing: "And now it was time for some fuckin' law and order / the electric chair / for the greasy pair / said the judge to the court reporter."

 

"Born In Puerto Rico" is painted lightly with acoustic guitar and piano, as we hear Agron adjusting to life in New York City. "Satin Summer Nights" reminds us that even a bustling city can foster soft, breezy evenings, despite the gang overtones of spoken lines such as "you don't get no respect around here unless you belong to a bopping gang."

 

"Bernadette" was the album's first single and sports the familiar Simon jangle, changing tempos at will but lingering in the air like sweet perfume. The jazzy, piano-and-horn "The Vampires" chronicles Agron's initiation into the gang of the same name, laying the foundation for his participation in the aforementioned murders.

 

At this point in the album, one would expect a song that dealt with the crime itself, but all Simon offers is brief snippets from an interview that was conducted with Agron after the murders. Agron is without remorse, a notion that would seem central to understanding his motivation. Instead, "The Vampires" is followed by "Quality," which could pass as an outtake from "Grease."

 

Next is "Can I Forgive Him," a sad, sparse, six-minute visit with Agron's mother Esmerelda. Recorded solo at Simon's home, the creak of his detuned acoustic guitar is audible behind lines such as "only God can say 'forgive' / his son too received a knife / but we go on, we have to live / with this cross we call our life.”

 

"Killer Wants To Go To College" imagines a conversation between an inmate and a guard dismissing Agron's attempts to rehabilitate himself while in prison, set over a blues-rock shuffle and reprised later in the CD. "Time Is An Ocean" is sung by Marc Anthony and actor Ruben Blades, both of whom played Agron in various stages of life during the musical. We hear Agron's life in prison compressed into verses and choruses, singing of hopeful resolution: "I'll take the evil in me / and turn it into good / through all your institutions / never thought I could / so now I'll turn to say goodbye."

 

If nothing else, Songs From The Capeman is a worthwhile souvenir from the production, which limped off Broadway after critics savaged its early performances. And although some of the music drags in places, it's hard to be too judgmental with these pieces out of the context of the entire musical. That said, it's safe to predict that with "The Capeman" and the '97 release of a three-CD Simon & Garfunkel box set, the spotlight on Paul Simon is far from dimming.