Carly Simon’s Resilient Symphony: A Meditation on Creativity and Mortality
There’s something profoundly moving about Carly Simon’s return to music after two decades of silence. At 83, battling Parkinson’s disease and emerging from the shadows of personal loss, her upcoming album Comes in Waves isn’t just a collection of songs—it’s a testament to the indomitable human spirit. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Simon’s story transcends the typical narrative of a comeback. It’s not about reclaiming past glory; it’s about finding purpose in the face of fragility.
The Paradox of Apathy and Art
One thing that immediately stands out is Simon’s candid description of Parkinson’s-induced apathy. She likens it to being a ‘starfish drying in the sun,’ devoid of the internal spark to engage with life. Personally, I think this is where her story becomes universally relatable. We’ve all felt that inertia, that sense of being unmoored from our own lives. But what many people don’t realize is how apathy can coexist with creativity. Simon’s music didn’t abandon her—it waited for her. Those fragments of melodies and verses, tucked away for years, became her lifeline. If you take a step back and think about it, this raises a deeper question: Is art a product of inspiration, or is it a survival mechanism?
Music as a Silent Companion
Simon describes music as a ‘cat or dog that quietly appears beside you when it senses you are not quite yourself.’ This metaphor is brilliant. It captures the intangible way art can offer solace without demanding anything in return. From my perspective, this is what separates music from other forms of expression. It doesn’t require you to be whole; it meets you in your brokenness. Simon’s album isn’t just a personal triumph—it’s a reminder that creativity often thrives in the cracks of our lives.
The Weight of Withdrawal and the Courage to Return
Simon’s retreat from public life after her Parkinson’s diagnosis and facial surgery is understandable, but her decision to re-emerge is what’s truly remarkable. In a culture obsessed with youth and perfection, her willingness to return as her authentic, vulnerable self is radical. A detail that I find especially interesting is how she frames this return not as a victory lap, but as a quiet act of defiance. What this really suggests is that aging and illness don’t have to be synonymous with invisibility.
Legacy and the Unspoken Future
As a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Simon’s legacy is already cemented. But Comes in Waves feels like a different kind of contribution—one that speaks to the complexities of late-life creativity. Personally, I’m intrigued by what this album implies about the future of aging artists. Will we see more musicians embracing vulnerability as a source of strength? Or will the industry continue to marginalize them? Simon’s work challenges us to reconsider how we value artists as they grow older.
A Broader Symphony
If there’s one takeaway from Simon’s story, it’s this: creativity isn’t just for the young, the healthy, or the whole. It’s a force that can persist—even flourish—in the face of adversity. What makes her journey so compelling is its universality. We’re all, in some way, battling our own versions of Parkinson’s, whether it’s physical, emotional, or existential. Simon’s music isn’t just a gift to her fans; it’s a mirror reflecting our shared humanity.
In my opinion, Comes in Waves isn’t just an album—it’s a manifesto. It’s a reminder that even when life feels like it’s slipping away, there’s always a melody waiting to be finished. And that, perhaps, is the most beautiful thing of all.
