I got my first guitar when I was 16. I was at my grandparents’ house and my uncle reached into the back of a closet and gave me an old guitar that belonged to my granddad. Granddad, who they used to call “Three Chord Jack” because he could take any song ever written and pare it down to a G-C-D chord progression, had passed away four years earlier so the significance of this gift was not lost on me.
It doesn’t take much for me to remember that moment so clearly… bringing the guitar down to the family room in the basement, the comfortable musky smell, the autumn-leave print couches and fake wood paneling along the wall, the bar at the end of the room that housed a huge collection of bottle openers, mugs and other bar paraphernalia that was popular to obtain through the 60’s and 70’s. This was what surrounded me when I played guitar for the first time.
There was not a lot of sheet music… as much as we were a sing-along family, it was all learned by heart and the music coming out of the guitars sometimes never quite synched up with the words. But there were a few pages and one of those pages was The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel. This would be the first song I’d ever learn to play on guitar.
My father had the album (of course he did, he had over 300 albums in his collection) and had transferred over half his collection to tape. I practiced every night in my room listening to that cassette, trying to get the shift from major to minor just right in my voice. It took weeks to get to a point where I felt comfortable enough to try and play it for anyone else and, it just so happened, that another family birthday had come around and we were back at nan and granddad’s house. I brought my guitar.
Not in front of everyone, but in front of a select few (I remember my mom, dad and uncle being there) I set myself up in the basement and played my first ever show. One song, with the end chorus stretched out to infinity thanks to the singing along and clapping that was coming from my first audience.
I loved it all; I loved the song, the performance, and the fact that it was likely the first time an F chord had ever been performed on that guitar.
You’ve heard the song before, of course, but watch this clip on Letterman from 1990. Not only are some of the riffs and harmonies new from the original recording, but the entire performance is powerful, seeing the two perform together so late in their careers knowing these reunion performances were so rare.
Listen for the missing verse as well, one that did not appear on the original Bridge Over Troubled Water recording.
Now the years are rolling by me / They are rocking evenly / I am older than I once was, but younger than I’ll be, but that’s not unusual / No, it isn’t strange / After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same / After changes, we are more or less the same
The song means many things to many people but the one unifying theme we can all see is that the song is about perseverance. The fighter still remains.
Paul Simon opened Saturday Night Live with the song on September 29th, 2001, the first live SNL show after the events of September 11th. Everyone watched that show; everyone needed to watch that show and the song was a perfect way to inspire strength and courage without resorting to bravado. In this clip below, Paul Simon, Lorne Michaels and Amy Poehler reflect on that night and on that performance.
One last memory about this song… later that same year, in November of 2001, I went to Japan to teach English, an adventure that I am sure will come up on a number of occasions here on the site.
I taught at a junior high school and was the only foreign teacher on staff. Most of the other faculty were warm and receptive to me, however there were those who were either shy or embarrassed about their lack of English and would be very cold or rude towards me as a result.
From an email back home to Canada, April 25th, 2002:
Had a teacher’s party last Friday night, and that is always an adventure. Nice restaurant, food upon food upon food and, as is always the case when drinking with a bunch of Japanese people, too much to drink. The problem lies with the fact that you can’t keep track of how much you’re drinking because people keep filling up your glass with their bottle.
And man do they speak English when they’ve been drinking! One teacher, I call him a wall-looker (because we’ll be walking towards each other in the hallway and, just as we’re about to meet, he turns his head and stares at the wall as he walks past) asked me (through another teacher) what my opinion was of him. I gave him four words and he understood and smiled: “Big smile… after beer!”
After dinner we went to karaoke where I was urged to sing. I half mentioned The Boxer while looking over someone’s shoulder and the next thing I knew I was belting it out.
Karaoke Tip Number 4
When surrounded by a bunch of older Japanese always go with something pre-1980.
Tip Number 4.1
It doesn’t hurt to pick a song with five minutes of Lai-La-Lais either.
The wall-looker has been much nicer to me ever since.
The Boxer… breaking down walls and bringing cultures together.
Further Listening – Covers Of The Boxer
Tamar&Netanel do a beautiful version of the song. What I love about this performance is how clearly they love singing with each other.
Jess Chalker is a singer/songwriter from Oz with a lovely voice and an excellent version of the song.
With not a lot of eye contact with each other or the camera, this video is not as visually engaging, but Jaiwant Nana’s guitar is impeccable and there is something innately sweet about his father providing the Garfunkel high harmony. I like it.
And lastly, a great house party version of the song that just shows people having fun with it. I love this vibe and, honestly, my happy place is where the drinks are flowing, the guitars are out and everyone is singing along so far into the night that we don’t even realize we’ve crossed over to morning…