Simon and Garfunkel "Sounds of Silence" [1966]

Only in a musical wasteland so boring that Joan Baez got to be famous could such a profound snoozefest like Simon & Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence" actually go anywhere, but a year after Dylan gave the folk music community the finger, the meek acoustic stylings and harmonies of these two presumptuous young New Yorkers not only got released, but were revered. Perhaps the amateurish buffet of various arrangements, Byrds rip-offs and cheating off Leonard Cohen's paper was considered wide-ranging at the time, but in retrospect it's pretty easy to hear why Paul Simon would generally steer well clear of anything resembling the Beatles, let alone the Stones: he writes white-bread-and-mayo tunes -- even when he's killing off his characters like some lame paperback writer -- and performs them like he's got a migraine. On those unfortunate occasions where he does try to push past his vocal comfort zone, he does no one any favors. As for the other mama's boy, Art Garfunkel, his high, weak register sounds like so many tea kettles announcing the chamomile is ready. Because this was the mid-60s, 10 short songs were all that were generally required of recording artists, and even then this album has lots of filler. Milquetoast 60s rhythms and music recital finger-picking do not great tunes make; between these guys and Neil Diamond, they must have set back Jewish American contemporary music 15 years.