Paul Simon at the Wang Theatre: A Sacred Evening of Song and Soul

June 10, 2025 | Boch Center Wang Theatre, Boston, MA

In an age when legends often fade quietly into the shadows, Paul Simon—at 83 years old—returned to the stage Tuesday night with an intimacy, reverence, and quiet majesty that turned Boston’s grand Wang Theatre into a sanctuary.

Just a few years ago, Simon spoke openly of retirement. And yet, here he stood once more, beneath the gilded dome and heavy red curtains, not to relive the past, but to reinterpret it. What unfolded was more than a concert. It was a spiritual journey, a meditation on time, love, memory, and the divine mystery that lingers in the spaces between his lyrics.

ACT I: Seven Psalms — The Music of Reflection

The first 30 minutes were unlike anything most fans had ever seen live. Without introduction, Simon stepped into the soft light in a tailored black suit, accompanied by a 13-piece ensemble of master musicians. The hall fell into a hush as he began Seven Psalms, his 2023 suite of meditative, genre-defying songs woven into a continuous piece.

From the haunting invocation of "The Lord" to the aching simplicity of "Love is Like a Braid" and the existential reckoning in "Trail of Volcanoes"—joined by his wife, Edie Brickell, in delicate harmony—the music blurred lines between folk, classical, and spiritual lament. It was deeply personal and musically daring.

“Wait” closed the cycle, and with it, Simon and his ensemble quietly exited. No applause was urged. No moment was rushed. Just a breath held in the hearts of thousands.

ACT II: Greatest Hits and Deep Deep Cuts

After a 20-minute intermission, Paul Simon returned in a casual t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap, signaling a shift in tone but not in depth. He smiled and strummed the opening notes of "Graceland", instantly lifting the room into joyous recognition. His voice—weathered but expressive—felt less like an echo of the past and more like a trusted companion guiding us through memory.

The setlist that followed was nothing short of a masterclass in songcraft: the poignant "Slip Slidin’ Away", the yearning "Train in the Distance", and a luminous "Homeward Bound" that brought tears to eyes and arms to shoulders. He honored memory with "The Late Great Johnny Ace", and let in light again with "St. Judy’s Comet", where Edie Brickell returned for a tender duet.

There was joy in the room—palpable joy—as the familiar rhythms of "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard." Deeper cuts like "Rene and Georgette Magritte with Their Dog After the War", "Rewrite", and "Spirit Voices" reminded us how vast and poetic Simon's catalog truly is.

By the time "Cool, Cool River" crashed over the audience with rhythmic precision, it was clear: Paul Simon was not merely revisiting his past—he was reinterpreting it in the full light of wisdom, grief, and grace.

Encore: A Gentle Benediction

As the band returned for the encore, the audience erupted for "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover", singing every chorus line in a spirited, joyful shout. Then came "The Boxer", an ensemble performance so rich in harmony it felt like a hymn.

The musicians took their bows and slowly left, leaving Simon alone in a single spotlight, his guitar cradled like an old friend. And then—soft, simple, eternal—he played "The Sound of Silence."

The room was still.

Every word echoed like a prayer.

A Night to Remember

This performance wasn’t just a concert—it was a meditation, a celebration, a quiet reckoning. Paul Simon, who once wrote about the arc of a life in “Old Friends,” showed us that some artists don’t fade—they illuminate.

As the final chord of The Sound of Silence lingered and the lights dimmed, no one moved. There was nothing left to say.

Only gratitude. Only awe. Only Paul.