Tuesday Tune Two-Fer: Hit da Bricks!!

I grew up in the 70s, so I heard Paul Simon songs all the time, but I never really thought of it as anything other than “music people’s parents like” until I first heard and loved Graceland.

And “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover” in particular, I always dismissed as a silly pop song, the kind designed to be turned into a sketch when Simon was a guest on The Muppet Show or something.1 It actually wasn’t until a few years ago, when I saw a fantastic cover of the song by Miley Cyrus on Saturday Night Live, that I really appreciated how much was going on inside of it.

I believe that Cyrus’s performance was a last-minute substitution for an act that was originally supposed to appear, which partly explains why it’s somewhat stripped down to acoustic instruments. But prominently placing the drums on stage made me pay more attention to their part in the original song: it really is just that perfect hook, some interesting chords, and the singer’s voice.

The thing I never appreciated was how the format of the song says what it’s about. (Or at least what I think it’s about, of course). The verses are quiet, kind of complex musically, and the language is overly verbose and conversational:

She said, “it’s really not my habit to intrude”

“Furthermore, I hope my meaning won’t be lost or misconstrued”

And then it jumps to the chorus, which is more straightforward pop and all simple rhymes. I saw an interview Simon did with Howard Stern where he says he wrote the song while trying to teach his kid about rhymes.

The contrast makes this what I believe is a brilliant reminder not to overthink relationships that aren’t working. Which must have been particularly fitting in the 1970s, when everybody was all about getting in touch with their feelings.

The verses say let’s stop and think about this, understand ourselves and what we want as an adults, sleep on it, consider how we can move forward. The chorus says nah, it’s not that complicated. Just hit da bricks, as Da Share Z0ne says.

And I never would’ve picked up on that if Saturday Night Live hadn’t put on a version with a bass drum and a single snare.

Another break-up song with some great drums: “Go Your Own Way” by Fleetwood Mac. This is kind of the opposite of “50 Ways,” since it’s all about Buckingham having trouble getting over the split. The title is the only aspect of it that suggests he’s moving on; the rest is all about obsessing over what went wrong, insisting that he was the only one putting any effort in, blaming her, saying she’s doomed to loneliness, demanding “tell me why everything turned around?”

It’s a perfect counterpoint to Nicks’s “I Don’t Wanna Know” — even if I have to admit I think “Go Your Own Way” is a better song — because she just says, “I don’t need to know why. Get over it, man.”

PS Whenever I write about break-ups on what is a personal blog, I feel obliged to point out that there’s no subtext going on. I just saw a post on Bluesky that reminded me that “50 Ways” has more going on than it seems like on the surface.

1
I know that this actually happened, but I’m deliberately not looking it up now because the reality can’t possibly be as good as the version that’s in my head now.

1 I know that this actually happened, but I’m deliberately not looking it up now because the reality can’t possibly be as good as the version that’s in my head now.