Music changes. Trends die. But somehow, the albums of Simon and Garfunkel feel like they were recorded yesterday in a quiet room just down the hall from where you’re sitting. It is weird, honestly. Paul Simon’s neurotically perfect songwriting paired with Art Garfunkel’s "voice of an angel" (a cliché, yeah, but accurate) created a discography that is surprisingly short but incredibly dense. They only gave us five studio albums. Five. That is it. Yet, those five records trace a path from earnest folk-revivalists to sonic architects who literally changed how we use a recording studio.
Most people think of them as the "Sound of Silence" guys. Or maybe the soundtrack to The Graduate. But if you actually sit down and listen to the progression from their 1964 debut to their 1970 swan song, you’re hearing the sound of two best friends—who eventually couldn't stand being in the same room—redefining what pop music could actually say.
The Rough Start: Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.
It almost didn’t happen. Their first record, Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M., was a total flop. Seriously. It came out in October 1964 and basically sank without a trace. At the time, they were just another duo trying to ride the coattails of the Greenwich Village folk scene.
You hear a lot of covers on this one. Dylan’s "The Times They Are a-Changin'" makes an appearance. There are traditional spirituals. It’s very... polite. It sounds like two guys in skinny ties trying really hard to be "authentic." But buried in the middle was an acoustic version of "The Sound of Silence."
If producer Tom Wilson hadn't taken that track, added electric guitars and drums behind the duo’s back, and released it as a single while Paul Simon was living in England, Simon and Garfunkel would probably just be a footnote in a trivia book. That "overdub" saved their careers. It turned a failing folk record into the blueprint for folk-rock.
Sounds of Silence and the Shift to Electric
By 1966, the vibe shifted. The Sounds of Silence album had to be rushed out to capitalize on the accidental success of the title track. Because of that, it feels a bit frantic. You’ve got "I Am a Rock," which is the ultimate anthem for anyone who has ever wanted to crawl into a hole and never talk to another human being again.
It’s moody.
✨ Don't miss: Why October London Make Me Wanna Is the Soul Revival We Actually Needed
Simon was writing about alienation and the coldness of the city. He wasn't writing about "love" in the way the Beatles were at the time. He was writing about the "neon light that split the night." This album is where the albums of Simon and Garfunkel started to get that intellectual edge that set them apart from the bubblegum acts of the mid-60s.
Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme: Finding the Magic
If you want to hear the moment they truly became Simon and Garfunkel, it’s this record. Released later in '66, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme is where the production gets intricate.
They weren't just singing songs anymore. They were creating atmospheres. "Scarborough Fair/Canticle" is a technical masterpiece. They layered a traditional folk song with an anti-war poem ("The Side of a Hill") and the result is haunting. It’s not just a song; it’s a counterpoint experiment.
Then you have "7 O'Clock News/Silent Night." It’s literally them singing a Christmas carol while a news broadcast about the Vietnam War and the death of Lenny Bruce plays over it. It’s jarring. It’s uncomfortable. It was a bold move for 1966, showing that these weren't just "pretty singers"—they were documenting the fractured American psyche.
Bookends and the Concept of Life
By 1968, they were the biggest thing in the world. The Graduate had made them superstars. But instead of just churning out more hits, they made Bookends.
This is arguably their masterpiece. It’s a loose concept album about the cycle of life, from youth to old age. Side one is heavy. It starts with a short acoustic snippet and ends with "Old Friends," which features actual recordings of elderly people in nursing homes talking about their lives.
🔗 Read more: How to Watch The Wolf and the Lion Without Getting Lost in the Wild
Bookends is short. It’s only about 29 minutes long. But every second is curated. "Save the Life of My Child" uses distorted electronics and a snippet of "The Sound of Silence" to create a chaotic soundscape of a suicide attempt in a city. It’s dark. It’s brilliant. And then, of course, you have "Mrs. Robinson." That song is a cultural landmark, but within the context of the album, it feels like a commentary on the loss of American innocence.
The recording of this album was famously difficult. They were spending hundreds of hours in the studio. Paul Simon was becoming a perfectionist, and Art Garfunkel was starting to feel like he was losing his voice in the creative process. The cracks were showing.
Bridge Over Troubled Water: The Grand Finale
- The end of the road.
Bridge Over Troubled Water is one of the best-selling albums of all time, but it’s essentially the sound of a breakup. Art was off in Mexico filming Catch-22. Paul was in New York, writing songs and getting increasingly frustrated that his partner wasn't there.
The title track is legendary, obviously. Simon reportedly told Garfunkel he should sing it alone, a decision he later admitted he regretted because it gave Art the biggest spotlight of their career. But listen to "The Boxer." That song took over 100 hours to record. The "lie-la-lie" chorus was recorded in a chapel at Columbia University to get that massive, echoing sound.
The album is a mess of genres. You’ve got "Cecilia," which is basically a rhythm experiment recorded on a tape loop. You’ve got the Peruvian folk of "El Condor Pasa." You’ve got the rockabilly energy of "Keep the Customer Satisfied."
It shouldn't work. But it does.
💡 You might also like: Is Lincoln Lawyer Coming Back? Mickey Haller's Next Move Explained
When they won the Grammy for Album of the Year, they were barely speaking. They split up shortly after. They went out at the absolute peak of their powers, leaving behind a body of work that has never really been replicated.
Why We Still Care About These Records
There is a specific loneliness in the albums of Simon and Garfunkel that resonates with every generation. Whether it’s a college student in 1968 or someone scrolling through Spotify in 2026, the feeling of being "lost" in a big city or disconnected from people is universal.
Simon’s lyrics are dense. They require multiple listens. He uses internal rhyme schemes and literary references that make you feel smarter for listening to them. But Garfunkel’s voice provides the emotional anchor. Without Art, the songs can feel a bit cold and intellectual. Without Paul, Art doesn't have anything substantial to say. They were a perfect, albeit combustible, chemical reaction.
How to Truly Experience the Discography
If you’re diving into these records for the first time—or the hundredth—don’t just put on a "Greatest Hits" compilation. You lose the narrative.
- Start with Bookends. Listen to side one in its entirety without distractions. It’s a 15-minute meditation on growing old that hits differently once you're past the age of 25.
- Compare the acoustic version of "The Sound of Silence" from the first album to the electric version. It’s a fascinating lesson in how production can completely change the emotional weight of a lyric.
- Pay attention to the percussion on Bridge Over Troubled Water. They were using objects in the studio, heavy reverb, and multi-track layering long before it was standard practice in pop music.
- Read the lyrics to "The Only Living Boy in New York." It’s Paul Simon’s "hidden" message to Art (whom he called "Tom," from their early days as Tom & Jerry) while Art was away filming. It’s a heartbreaking song about being left behind.
The legacy of these five albums isn't just about the "hits." It’s about the evolution of two artists who grew up together, changed the world, and eventually grew apart, leaving us with a perfect, finished story told through some of the most beautiful music ever recorded.
Actionable Next Step: To understand the sheer technical complexity behind these recordings, your next step is to find the multitrack breakdowns or "Classic Albums" documentary footage specifically for the Bridge Over Troubled Water sessions. Specifically, look for the isolated vocal tracks of the title song. Hearing Art Garfunkel’s voice without the massive orchestration reveals the incredible control and "straight-tone" technique he used to create that shimmering, ethereal effect. It changes how you hear the record forever.