Eno gives Simon new sonic direction

If the answer is infinite light, why do we sleep in the dark?" asks Paul Simon in the leadoff track on his new album, Surprise, the follow-up to 2000's muted You're The One. It's one of a series of questions that dot the songs on this album.

"Who's gonna love you when your looks are gone?"

"Who's that conscience sticking to the sole of my shoe?"

But none of those questions is as pressing as the one that faced Simon in the making of this remarkable record. What the heck can he do next?

Everyone knows Paul Simon, after all. He rose to fame with frizzy-haired Garfunkel, wrote the theme for The Graduate and encouraged the '80s world-music thing with Graceland.

So, barring another reunion with the graying Garfunkel, what could he possibly do of any interest to anyone?

The answer, it turns out, is collaborate with a most unlikely partner: Brian Eno, electronic music pioneer and occasional producer of U2 and the Talking Heads. While he may seem quite different from folkie Simon, the two share an interest in world music and a skewed, egghead perspective on the world.

The combination works.

For Surprise, Eno contributes a swirling electronic soundscape that takes Simon's plaintive songs in a radically new direction. If you ever wondered what Paul Simon would sound like with dance beats and distorted guitar, wonder no more. On the standout tune "Outrageous" for instance, a driving verse is married to an African-flavored chorus.

That's not to say Surprise betrays Simon's aesthetic. Far from it. Eno's backing tracks (he's credited as provided the album's "sonic landscape") allow the songs to take on lives of their own, apart from genre clichés. "Another Galaxy," for instance, is a simple song about a runaway bride. But the foreboding production lends the take a haunting, troubled air.

Simon, for his part, sounds liberated. He crafts meandering songs full of wordplay, obscure references and in-jokes. Like fellow '60s survivor Bob Dylan, he no longer sounds like he's eager to prove anything. He simply wants to create.

Not that Surprise is without fault (Neither was Graceland, but that's another review). Sometimes the meandering songs meander a bit too much. "Wartime Prayers," a gospel-flavored song about life in troubled times, verges on the tacky. And Simon ends his album with "Father and Daughter," a treacly confection he penned for a Nickelodeon movie. If you can get past the bland sentiment of the chorus -"There could never be a father who loved his daughter more than I love you"- there's the backing vocals of Paul's prepubescent son to deal with.

Those reservations in mind, Surprise shows the 64-year-old Simon growing older with grace. The questions he poses in its songs remain. But the album itself serves as a remarkable answer to the question that haunts many aging rock stars: "Does he still have it?"

-- CLAY McCUISTION