An Appreciation of “The Only Living Boy in New York” by Simon and Garfunkel

I’m writing about a Simon and Garfunkel song, but it’s not Sound of Silence. As much as I love it, that song has been reviewed to death; deservedly so, as it’s one of the best songs ever written. Of course, for most people today it’s mostly recognized by the opening line ‘hello, darkness, my old friend’ becoming a meme, so it’s nice to see it stick around over a half-century after its first release.

Instead, the song I’m writing about is one that probably is more relevant now than ever, “The Only Living Boy in New York.” The standout lyric to me from this song is “I get all the news I need from the weather report.” Of course, there’s a lot more to this song than that, so let’s take a deep dive into the song’s background with a particular emphasis on the lyrics. 

Background of The Only Living Boy in New York

Written by Paul Simon in 1970, the song’s background is equally fascinating as its lyrics. It’s said to be a response to Art Garfunkel’s absence when he went to Mexico to act in the film, “Catch-22.” This context sheds light on the sense of separation and longing we see infused in the lyrics of this song, adding layers of both personal and artistic complexity. Notably, the song was a B-side to their hit single, Cecilia.

Interestingly, “The Only Living Boy in New York” is also a title that has been used for a film, as well. The film was directed by Marc Webb and released in 2017, and is at least in part based on the Simon and Garfunkel tune. It starred Callum Turner, Kate Beckinsale, Pierce Brosnan, Cynthia Nixon, and Jeff Bridges. It was a drama about a young man who has an affair with his father’s mistress. The film received generally negative reviews from critics. But it’s relevant to mention here because the film also explores similar themes in the context of New York City.

In a comment from an earlier version of this same article, Chuck Miller told me that “Tom” is ia direct reference to Art Garfunkel. In the 50’s, Simon and Garfunkel performed as “Tom and Jerry.” Chuck also mentions that on their first minor hit “Hey! Schoolgirl” the 45-rpm record listed the songwriters as Tom Graph (Art) and Jerry Landis (Paul Simon), the 78-rpm credits them as P. Simon and A. Garfunkel. So, yes, this song is directly addressing Art.

This direct reference is why we have the opening lines ”Tom, get your plane right on time / I know your part’ll go fine / Fly down to Mexico”set the stage, acknowledging Garfunkel’s departure to Mexico to film “Catch-22.” While Simon’s words are supportive, they yet carry an underlying sense of solitude and resignation. The specific mention of “Mexico” contextualizes the moment in their history, highlighting the physical and emotional distance between them.

What is the Meaning of The Only Living Boy in New York?

“The Only Living Boy in New York” doesn’t posture or overexplain itself. Maybe that’s what makes it feel more honest than most breakup songs, as after all, this track isn’t about romantic love. It’s about the kind of grief that creeps in when your creative partner, your other half in song and spirit, hops on a plane to chase a different dream. This isn’t a eulogy—it’s a quiet witness to the unraveling of a friendship.

The refrain, “I get all the news I need from the weather report,” is a resignation. It’s Simon refusing to let headlines or headlines-in-the-making intrude on his grief. If the clouds don’t look too angry, he’ll make it through another day. Lyrically, the song does something most ballads don’t, which is resisting catharsis. There’s no “aha” moment and no dramatic climax. Instead, we drift. Half of the time we’re gone, and we don’t know where. Repeat it enough and it stops sounding confused; it starts sounding human.

Simon’s vocal is soft, but the production is rich and layered. It’s almost hymnal in the harmonies, like Simon is conjuring a chorus to replace the one voice that’s missing. It’s a loner’s lullaby, but it never feels self-pitying. 

As a younger adult, I used to hear this song as a sort of sad-boy elegy for an era that slipped away. But now approaching forty, I hear it as a quietly defiant manifesto. You can lose your people, lose your path, and still choose to smile. But you don’t do this out of denial; rather, you must choose to do so out of survival.

There’s a lot of pressure to stay tuned in, especially now. But Simon’s choice to unplug, to find meaning in cloud cover and still air was revolutionary even in 1970’s NYC. Sometimes, you have to stop looking for deeper meaning and just sit with the weather.

~ Amelia Desertsong