Music moves in cycles. Sometimes a cover is just a cheap cash-in, a karaoke-tier retread of a classic that nobody asked for. Then there’s David Draiman. When Disturbed released their rendition of Disturbed The Sound of Silence in 2015, the collective internet paused. It wasn't just a heavy metal band trying to be soft. It was a complete structural demolition of a folk-rock pillar, rebuilt with gravel, orchestral swelling, and a vocal performance that actually made Paul Simon pick up a pen and write an email.
Honestly, at first, it felt like a weird fit. Disturbed? The guys who did "Down with the Sickness"? Covering Simon & Garfunkel? It sounded like the setup for a bad punchline in a 2000s music magazine. But then you hear that first low note. Draiman, usually known for his rhythmic, staccato barking and aggressive delivery, drops into a baritone register that feels like it’s vibrating from the bottom of a well.
It changed the trajectory of the band's career. It changed how we view "metal" covers. And it definitely changed the bank accounts of everyone involved.
The Night David Draiman Swapped the Bark for a Baritone
Before this track hit Immortalized, the band’s sixth studio album, Disturbed was in a specific lane. They were the kings of mid-2000s nu-metal holdovers, consistent and loud. But Kevin Churko, the producer, pushed for something different. He didn't want a "rock" version of the song. He didn't want distorted guitars and double-kick drums. He wanted something that felt like a cinematic descent into madness.
Draiman has often talked about how nervous he was. You can hear it in the early takes if you look for the behind-the-scenes footage. He wasn't sure if his voice could carry that kind of vulnerability without the "mask" of his usual aggressive style. They spent hours tweaking the piano melody. They added strings. Then they added more strings. By the time the song hits the three-minute mark, it isn't a folk song anymore. It’s an anthem.
When the song finally dropped, it didn't just climb the rock charts. It crossed over. It went to the Billboard Hot 100. It went Triple Platinum. People who wouldn't be caught dead at a Disturbed concert were suddenly crying in their cars to a guy who usually wears chin rings.
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What Paul Simon Actually Thought
There’s a common myth that original artists hate when "louder" bands cover their work. Usually, they're right to be annoyed. But Simon & Garfunkel's 1964 original is a delicate, ghostly thing about the lack of communication in modern society. It’s fragile.
Paul Simon didn't just tolerate the cover; he publicly endorsed it. After seeing the band perform Disturbed The Sound of Silence on Conan, Simon reached out to Draiman directly. He called the performance "powerful." He even shared the video on his social media pages. That’s the ultimate validation. When the guy who wrote the lyrics tells you that you did them justice, you've basically won music.
The Math of a Viral Hit
Let’s look at the numbers because they’re staggering. As of now, the official music video on YouTube has racked up well over a billion views. A billion. For a cover of a song from the 60s. Why did it work?
- The Contrast: It starts at a whisper and ends at a roar.
- The Visuals: A stark, black-and-white video that focused on the raw emotion of the performance rather than flashy editing.
- The Timing: It came out during a period where "dark" and "moody" reimaginings of pop culture were peaking.
Breaking Down the Vocal Technique
If you’re a singer, or even just someone who likes to scream in the shower, you know that the "vocal flip" Draiman does is insanely difficult. He starts in a very breathy, unsupported low register. This is deliberate. It creates intimacy. As the song progresses, he moves into his "mixed voice" and eventually into full-on operatic belting.
Most people don't realize Draiman was actually trained as a cantor in his youth. That religious, liturgical background is all over this track. The way he holds the vowels and the specific vibrato he uses isn't metal—it’s classical. It’s the sound of someone who spent years learning how to project to the back of a room without a microphone.
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Why the "Metal" Community Was Divided
Not everyone was a fan initially. Purists within the metal scene called it "selling out" or "Oscar bait." They missed the "ooh-wah-ah-ah-ah." They thought it was too polished, too commercial. But those voices were quickly drowned out by the sheer scale of the song’s success. It proved that "heavy" doesn't always mean "distorted." Heavy can be an emotion. Heavy can be a cello.
The song also opened the door for other bands to try the "dramatic ballad cover" route. Five Finger Death Punch tried it with "Gone Away." Bad Wolves did it with "Zombie." But none of them quite captured the lightning in a bottle that Disturbed The Sound of Silence managed to snag. It was the perfect alignment of artist, song choice, and production.
The Legacy of Silence
Nearly ten years later, the song is a staple of funeral playlists, graduation montages, and movie trailers. It has become its own entity, almost detached from the original Simon & Garfunkel version. For a whole generation of listeners, this is the definitive version of the song.
That’s a heavy weight to carry.
The track also changed how Disturbed approaches their own songwriting. You can hear the influence of this success on their later albums like Evolution. They realized they didn't have to be the loudest band in the room to be the most impactful. They leaned into the melody. They leaned into the "theatricality" of Draiman’s range.
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The Technical Details You Probably Missed
If you listen with a good pair of headphones, you’ll notice the layering. There aren't just one or two vocal tracks. There are dozens. They layered his voice to create a "choir of Davids" in the final crescendo. This gives the song that massive, wall-of-sound feeling that makes your hair stand up.
The orchestration was handled by Kevin Churko and his son, Kane. They didn't use a standard rock band setup. They treated the arrangement like a film score. The drums don't even come in until the song is practically over, and when they do, they’re orchestral timpani, not a standard snare. It’s these small choices—the lack of a "backbeat"—that make the song feel so timeless.
How to Experience the Song Properly Today
If you really want to understand why Disturbed The Sound of Silence still matters, you have to look past the radio edits.
- Watch the Conan Performance: This is the moment the world realized it wasn't just studio magic. Draiman’s live vocals were arguably better than the recording.
- Listen to the Isolated Vocals: You can find these on YouTube. Hearing the raw grit and the technical control without the music is a masterclass in vocal health and power.
- Compare it to the "Live at Red Rocks" Version: The atmosphere of the outdoor venue adds a layer of haunting echo that the studio version can't replicate.
There is a certain irony in a song about people's inability to communicate becoming one of the most shared and discussed pieces of media in the last decade. We’re all shouting into the void, and for four minutes and eight seconds, Disturbed made that void sound beautiful.
It wasn't just a cover. It was a career-defining pivot that reminded everyone that sometimes, the loudest thing you can do is lower your voice—at least for the first verse.
To get the most out of this track's history, check out the original 1964 Simon & Garfunkel "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." acoustic version. Hearing the stark difference between that skeletal folk track and Disturbed’s behemoth provides a real appreciation for how much the "meaning" of a song can change based on the volume of the person singing it. Pay close attention to the final lyrics; Draiman’s delivery turns a warning into a command.