Paul Simon3Arena★★★★★“I guess there can only be two halves,” Paul Simon wryly remarks at the beginning of what seems more like an intimate happening than a concert. Folding in work that speaks to his layered career and sensibility, the first part of his “quiet celebration” is 2023’s Seven Psalms, the idea of which came to him in a dream. It resembles a long exploration of prayer, a search for “God’s abundance”, as he sings on Your Forgiveness.The Lord is the anchor of that record, a piece Simon returns to as a kind of ostinato, imploring us to realise that “nothing dies of too much love”. It is met in serene spirit by Love is a Braid and its “pleasant sorrows”, and there is a careful referencing of the blues in each song.Trail of Volcanoes is beautifully arranged, with a polyrhythmic spree towards the end and Sacred Harp tells us a story about exile and belonging, with Simon inhabiting every line. On Wait he is joined by Edie Brickell, to remind us that these are “the ghost songs” he “owned”. More “ghost songs” arrive in the second half, with Simon lifting us with Graceland, and Slip Slidin’ Away and its “thorny crown”. He talks of the early days of making his way in music, sketching out “guitar figures” for us, and years fall away as he deftly picks on the guitar. It is a perfect preface for The Late Great Johnny Ace, a highlight of the show, about the rhythm and blues artist who accidentally shot himself. The lyrics are a cartography of the slippery nature of time, or collapsing of time, as he weaves in two other “Johnnies” – Lennon and Kennedy. Like a great conductor, he steers his incredible band around references with ease, from classical to folk to doo wop.René and Georgette Magritte with Their Dog after the War transports, and Rewrite reminds us of Simon’s ability to reappraise, rearrange and rediscover. There are stories about an intense ayahuasca trip, which inspired the floaty Spirit Voices, and Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard remains dazzlingly playful.Simon tells us that if he had to pick a top 10, Darling Lorraine would be in it, as he takes us through its cunning heartbreak. The lovely jazz inflection on 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover is loosened by a swampiness on the keys, and by the time Martin Hayes comes out to play fiddle on The Boxer it feels like we have been in a fever dream. Simon stands back admiringly, giving Hayes space to add his own coda to the piece, with one tradition meeting another, and that collapsing of time again.As Simon stays on stage alone for Sound of Silence, he brings us back to the beginning, with his song of people “talking without speaking” and praying “to the neon god they made” all too apposite. It is emotionally flooring, bearing true witness, as most great art does.