SIMON ROLLS WITH A SOUTH AFRICAN ROCK

“GRACELAND.” Paul Simon. Warner Bros.

Weird and wonderful, Paul Simon’s “Graceland” neatly fuses the singer-songwriter’s gentle, dispassionate pop with the modern music of South Africa in what could be seen in some ways as the soft-rock equivalent to the Talking Heads’ “Remain in Light.”

Five of the 11 songs were partially cut in Johannesburg, and all but the last two of them prominently feature African musicians, often in recorded tandem with American studio pros. It seems like a well-intentioned experiment that shouldn’t really get off the ground, but it does--beautifully.

Obvious Question No. 1: Is Simon (who’s interviewed on Page 5) singing about strife in the townships now? Hardly, although one song does take place in Africa and a couple of others feature healthy doses of African languages. Mostly, it’s his usual thematic bag of tricks and laments, cheekily addressing such subjects as middle age and the muted horror of empty beds.

Obvious Question No. 2: If I like classic Paul Simon but cringe at the very mention of polyphony, will I hate this album? Not likely. Simon has been influenced by a wide variety of modern South African music here, much of which is closer to our pop than most would guess.

And the average listener would be hard-pressed to pick out anything African in the upbeat single, “You Can Call Me Al,” which is most notable for its hackneyed New York synthesizer riff.

Obvious Question No. 3: Would these be great songs in any context, or is Simon just snazzing up meager material with a novel approach?

The chord progressions and unusual arrangements are so inherent a part of the songs that it’s hard to judge with certainty, but yes, there do seem to be at least a couple of classic Simon songs here--most remarkably “The Boy in the Bubble,” with its fast, wobbly accordion/bass blend providing earthy counterpoint to its look at advancing technology and the shock of the new, as if through the eyes of a Zulu. It’s a stunning celebration of the awe and fear inspired by the modern big picture.

The last two tracks deviate from the format, having been recorded with all-American bands--but those bands are the equally “ethnic”-sounding Los Lobos and Good Rockin’ Dopsie & the Twisters.

Through them Simon makes a musical point that he drives home lyrically, with a former talk-show host who is heard to declare, “It was the myth of fingerprints--I’ve seen them all and, man, they’re all the same.” American and African music may not quite be the same, but on this album, at least, they’re close enough for rock ‘n’ roll.