You know that feeling when a song just sounds like a warm summer evening? That’s basically the entire Graceland album. But there is something specific about the diamonds on the soles of her shoes lyrics that feels different. It’s fancy. It’s sort of rhythmic and weirdly catchy. It is also, if we’re being honest, a bit of a mystery to anyone who hasn't spent time obsessing over Paul Simon’s 1986 career pivot.
Paul Simon was kind of in a rough spot before this. His previous record, Hearts and Bones, had flopped. He was going through a divorce with Carrie Fisher. Then he heard a bootleg tape of South African "township jive" and everything changed. He flew to Johannesburg, which was a massive political risk at the time because of the apartheid-era cultural boycott. But out of that risk came a song that feels like a fairy tale set in a very real, very divided world.
Why the diamonds on the soles of her shoes lyrics feel so different
The song starts with a sound that’s pure magic. Ladysmith Black Mambazo, led by the legendary Joseph Shabalala, opens with that Zulu chant. It’s acappella. It’s soulful. It’s called Isicathamiya. This isn't just backup singing; it’s a whole tradition of harmonic storytelling.
When the music finally kicks in, the diamonds on the soles of her shoes lyrics tell a story of a weird social mismatch. You’ve got a girl who is clearly wealthy—so wealthy she’s literally stepping on diamonds—and a guy who is "empty as a pocket." It’s a classic "rich girl, poor boy" trope, but it’s stripped of the usual cliches.
The literal vs. the metaphorical
Is she really wearing diamonds? Maybe. But in the context of South Africa in the 80s, diamonds weren't just jewelry. They were a massive part of the economy and a symbol of the country's brutal exploitation. By putting them on the "soles of her shoes," Simon creates an image of someone who is walking on top of immense value without even noticing it. She's detached. She's "physically forgotten" by the world of the poor.
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Then you have the chorus. It’s a celebration. It’s a party. It’s one of the most infectious grooves in pop history. But if you look at the words, they’re almost nonsensical in their simplicity. "Ta na na, ta na na na." It feels like a nursery rhyme for adults who have seen too much.
The collaborative magic of Joseph Shabalala
We can't talk about these lyrics without talking about Joseph Shabalala. He co-wrote the song with Simon. That’s why the Zulu sections feel so integral rather than just "added on" for flavor. The intro is actually about a group of people arriving at a place and finding it empty, or looking for something they can’t find.
Honestly, the chemistry between Simon’s neurotically precise New York songwriting and the fluid, rhythmic energy of the South African musicians is what makes the track work. It shouldn't work. On paper, it sounds like a mess. A short guy from New Jersey singing about African diamonds? But it’s beautiful.
Breaking down the verses
The opening line sets the stage immediately. "She's a rich girl / She don't try to hide it." It’s blunt. Simon doesn't waste time with flowery metaphors here. He wants you to see the disparity. The "poor boy" in the song is "changing his clothes in the hallway." He’s literally out in the cold, trying to look like he belongs.
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There’s a specific line about the "lights of the city" that always gets me. It highlights the distance between the two characters. They are in the same place, but they live in different universes. One universe has diamonds; the other has empty pockets.
The controversy that almost killed the song
You have to remember that 1986 was a tense time. By recording in South Africa, Paul Simon technically broke the United Nations cultural boycott. People were mad. Artists like Billy Bragg and Paul Weller criticized him for ignoring the political reality of apartheid.
But Simon argued that the music was a bridge. He wasn't working with the government; he was working with the people. The diamonds on the soles of her shoes lyrics became a global sensation, and in a weird way, they did more to bring attention to South African artists than a dozen protest songs might have. It gave Ladysmith Black Mambazo a global platform they never would have had otherwise.
A quick look at the production
- Bassline: Bakithi Kumalo played a fretless bass on this track. That sliding, popping sound? That’s him. It’s arguably one of the best bass performances in history.
- The Horns: The Saturday Night Live band’s horn section actually played on this. It adds that punchy, New York jazz feel to the African rhythms.
- The Tempo: It starts slow and builds into a frantic, joyful dance. It’s designed to make you feel the "diamonds" under your own feet.
What we get wrong about the meaning
A lot of people think this is just a song about a gold digger. That’s a bit too simple. It’s more about the absurdity of wealth in a world of poverty. The girl isn't necessarily a villain; she’s just living in a bubble. The "poor boy" isn't necessarily a victim; he’s trying to dance his way into her world.
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The song is also about the power of music to bridge that gap. When they sing together, the difference between the diamonds and the empty pockets starts to blur. It becomes about the rhythm. It becomes about the "ta na na."
Sometimes, the lyrics aren't there to tell a linear story. They’re there to evoke a feeling. Simon has always been a fan of using "found sounds" and phrases that just sound right. The phrase "diamonds on the soles of her shoes" reportedly came to him after seeing a woman who looked like she didn't have a care in the world.
How to appreciate the song today
If you want to really "get" the song, don't just read the lyrics on a screen. Listen to the 25th-anniversary remastered version. Pay attention to how the voices of Ladysmith Black Mambazo weave in and out of Simon's lead vocal.
Actionable ways to dive deeper
- Watch the 1987 African Concert: There is a live version filmed in Zimbabwe. You can see the pure joy on the faces of the musicians. It changes how you hear the "diamonds" metaphor entirely.
- Read "Under African Skies": This is a documentary about the making of Graceland. It goes deep into the political tension and the songwriting process.
- Learn the Zulu parts: Even just humming along to the phonetic sounds helps you feel the polyrhythms. It’s not just "background noise"; it’s the heartbeat of the track.
The diamonds on the soles of her shoes lyrics aren't just a relic of the 80s. they are a testament to what happens when two completely different cultures decide to stop shouting and start singing together. It’s messy, it’s controversial, and it’s gorgeous.
Next time you hear that bass kick in, think about that "poor boy" in the hallway. We’ve all been there, trying to act like we’ve got diamonds on our shoes when we’re actually just trying to keep our balance.
To truly master the nuances of this era of songwriting, look into the specific fretless bass techniques used by Bakithi Kumalo. Understanding how the "mbaqanga" style influenced Western pop can give you a much deeper appreciation for why this song sounds so fundamentally different from anything else on the radio in 1986. You might also explore the discography of Ladysmith Black Mambazo to hear the Isicathamiya style in its purest form, without the Western pop overlays. This provides a clearer context for the vocal arrangements Simon utilized throughout the album.