Paul Simon: Surprise

Working with Brian Eno, Simon has channeled his natural tendencies into a insular, wise brand of pop-rock; it may take some time to get familiar with the odd song structures and obtuse lyrics, but Simon's restless muse eventually pays off like it hasn't in almost two decades.

It hasn't been the easiest fifteen years for Paul Simon, given the artistic failure of The Capeman and the public's utter indifference to 2000's depressing You're The One. But just as Paul shook off his late-Seventies malaise to conquer the world with Graceland, the new Surprise finds him coming to terms with his age and his legacy in a unique way.

Simon's never going to conquer the world again, but then, Surprise doesn't try to -- working with legendary producer Brian Eno, who was dabbling in world music well before him, Simon has merely consolidated everything he does well and taken it to a calm, reflective place. You hear polyrhythms and electronic percussion going on behind the singer, but he no longer calls attention to it; it's now part of him.

And Simon walks away from being the voice of a generation, even his own -- whereas his last album was obsessed with mortality, the new CD finds simple pleasures in simple truths. The old Paul pledged dramatically to be a bridge over troubled water; the new one is content to assure his daughter that he's "gonna watch you shine, gonna watch you grow." Which means that the occasional timely lyric -- like "People hungry for the voice of God hear lunatics and liars," from "Wartime Prayers" -- stand alone; there are no big statements here, and the loose structure of the songs confirms that. In fact, the closest thing to a mission statement lies in "I Don't Believe": "Maybe and maybe and maybe some more. Maybe's the exit I'm looking for."