(4&1/2 stars) I'm not sure why it took 35 years for this live recording to be released, but it turns out to be a marvelous document of the classic folk duo's magical chemistry. The sound quality is remarkable, a pristine environment that faithfully captures their inspired harmonies, Paul's acoustic guitar strumming, and even their occasional small boo-boos. (This was recorded live after all.) Hearing Art sing "For Emily" is always spine-tingling, but especially from this era when he was at the very pinnacle of his art. And of course all the hits reminded me yet again what a gifted songwriter Paul was, especially "Homeward Bound," "the Sound of Silence," and "I Am A Rock." The way Paul's harmony line on "Rock" stays on the same note for most of the first verse is such an amazingly subtle but effective idea.

Art's between-song patter is amusing, particularly his explanation of the album cover for the Wednesday Morning record. Anthony DeCurtis also provided some informative and well written liner notes.

Of course it's important (and obvious) to note that this concert occurred prior to some of their later hits such as "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and "El Condor Pasa," but live versions of those can be heard elsewhere.

The music and performance is sublime, capturing Simon & Garfunkel on their home turf on the cusp of broadening fame. This same material has appeared on easy-to-find bootlegs in the past, but not with this crisp, clear sound quality. Skip the "deluxe" packaging offered on an alternative edition of this CD unless a cardboard digipak sleeve with a shiny finish is important to you; the contents are otherwise the same as the regular jewel-case edition.

...when you're Simon and Garfunkel. And what reason does this duo have to be? Even as early as January 22 of 1967, when this concert was recorded, Paul and Arti were able to stack the setlist with three Top Ten selections ('Homeward Bound', 'I Am a Rock', and 'Sounds of Silence') and two other Top 40 numbers, 'Hazy Shade of Winter' and 'The Dangling Conversation', which Garfunkel introduces as their personal "favorite". Songs already in the works for later in 1967 included the likes of 'Fakin' It', 'Feelin' Groovy' and 'Scarborough Fair'. But chart success is far from what Simon and Garfunkel were all about at this most influential time in their careers.

Much is made in the liner notes by Anthony DeCurtis, and other reviewers here at Amazon, about the remarkable rapport between audience and performers on this disc. It's almost spellbinding in our day and age, when people come to concerts and all but ignore the performers, to hear the sounds of silence emanating from this reverant crowd at Philharmonic Hall in Philadelphia. Certainly not all 1967 performances were accorded such stature. It's hard to believe that the management of the auditorium went to the unheard of length of seating people on the stage behind the performers to accomodate the demand for tickets, and that Simon and Garfunkel would consent to such an unusual configuration for their performance. When listening to this disc, it is hard not to place yourself in one of these choice seats and imagine how it must have felt to hear these enigmatic performers unleash one poignant tune after another. I imagine you would be able to feel as though it was just you and them sharing these transcendent musical performances together.

And the music to this day remains glorious. Snippets of lyrical genius can be gleened with regularity from each and every song, and with each listen, some new image or combination of words or ideas will catch your attention. On one recent listen, 'Leaves That Are Green' left me with the brief aliteration "...and they wither with the wind", while 'You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies' emphasized its point by having each word in the title claim its own note. 'The Dangling Conversation' contrasts two people unable to connect with "we are verses out of rhythm, couplets out of rhyme, in sycopated time". 'Blessed' expands on the poor and the meek to include "meth drinkers" and the "groovy lookin'" before admitting "I've tended my own garden much too long". The writing of graffiti artists in 'Poem On the Underground Wall' is rendered as "a gently tapping litany". And in 'I Am a Rock', the self-isolated subject becomes "like a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow", capsulizing his unaffected and unaffecting nature. 'The Sounds of Silence' caress us with "a vision softly creeping" that "left its seeds while I was sleeping", while Garfunkels incredible vocal abilities illuminate images like "I kissed your honey hair with my grateful tears" from the first encore, 'For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her'. The pair sing "I won't be a slave anymore" in the heyday of the Civil Rights Movement, adding the defiant "you can burn down my churches, but I shall be free" in the second encore, 'A Church Is Burning'. Garfunkel tells the enthused crowd before the final number "Shut up, you've had your fun!", before performing the odd choice, 'Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.', the title song from their first disc, ending with "the morning is just a few hours away" before fading into an out-of-tune coda from Simon's frets. You could fill the auditorium with the lyrical gems that grace this concert with aural, literary, musical, cultural, and political and social import. While Simon was quite reserved regarding his vocal capabilities at this point in his career, his harmonies only enrich Garfunkel's leads, and his guitar work seems the perfect complement throughout, laced with both emotional expression and punctuation.

The recording is less than perfect. While everything that should be there is there, there is also an annoying buzz from the recording equipment (less pronounced after 'A Hazy Shade Of Winter', the middle track), but which cannot be ignored throughout the performance. Today's remastered, digital listener is less likely to be forgiving of such imperfections, but the perfection of these songs, performed live at the height of their influence demands that the good be taken with the bad. This is musical history, as well as a window into the best of what America was in perhaps its most turbulent and revolutionary of decades, save the 1770's and the 1860's. Even if you are not a Simon and Garfunkel aficionado, this concert should be taken in at least once to gain a better insight into who we were in the 1960's.

On January 22, 1967, two men and a single guitar drew a sold-out crowd to Philharmonic Hall (now Avery Fisher Hall) in Lincoln Center for what's now one of the best-known concerts from Simon and Garfunkel's career together. In fact, this and the post-duo Concert in Central Park are the only performances you can hear without resorting to bootlegs, and the fact that this one took place mid-career is something special.
The tension present in the 1981 concert in Central Park isn't in this recording; this is from before artistic differences and career choices got the better of their friendship.

This is from the heat of the moment, a set list straight from the era rather than constructed in retrospect, a collection of now-obscure album tracks that audiences of the mid-60s would have recognized, and brand new songs from an album and a single the group had released only two months earlier (Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme and "A Hazy Shade Of Winter"), and songs that weren't fully formed yet ("You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies").

This is about two 24-year-olds in cable knit sweaters with more confidence and stage presence than their ages should allow.

My copy of Live From New York City, 1967 is in the limited edition packaging, with a prismatic background replacing the white areas of the black-and-white package art and text, and the insert glued to the inside of the heavy, fingerprint-prone cardboard cover. The album's liner notes are exceptional and include a few nice black-and-white photos. Opening the case for the first time seals the deal as you see the black CD with their names printed in white, and the ampersand and the album name in the silver of the CD itself. The presentation is very understated and elegant.

Early in the concert, we're treated to an awfully clear, sincere version of "Sparrow," followed by an especially gentle "Homeward Bound." A little further along, they enunciate everything really nicely in "The Dangling Conversation," and actually in quite a lot of things - it seems to happen more frequently in live performances than in album cuts.

I know I gush over "Anji" in reviews every chance I get, so bear with me, but it's a nice chance to concentrate on just the guitar, the only instrument present aside from their voices. And it's a beautiful rendition, too. "I Am A Rock" also sounds really nice here, though I can't quite put my finger on why.

In the home stretch, it's almost like we're back in Wednesday Morning, 3 a.m. again with an acoustic guitar version of "The Sound Of Silence." This brings it to something like five or six distinct versions of the song, and I still hold that the acoustic versions are much better than the more popular "rockified" version from Sounds Of Silence. The best part of this particular performance of it is that the guitar doesn't get lost under the voices as it does in the original; the rock version has an influence on how strongly and loudly Paul plays his guitar, so the strong beats and loud melody and chords are there (note especially the end of the last verse, during "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls") without having to put up with electric guitar and drums.

What's great is that the boys give commentary on some of the songs, often concerning what sparked Paul to write certain songs. I love commentary, as it's not something you get from normal albums.

Paul introduces an early version of "You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies" with "Here's a song I've almost finished." The crowd responds to the song with polite but unenthusiastic applause. It doesn't contain the "Indications indicate" interlude that it later took on, but it's of note because it's the only song at the concert that no one would have heard before. "A Hazy Shade Of Winter" didn't appear on an album until over a year later, but the single was released in early November 1967 and had only recently fallen off the Billboard charts, so it's a sure bet people had already heard it.

Art tells the story of Wednesday Morning, 3 a.m.'s cover art as a lead-in to "A Poem On The Underground Wall." It's a funny story, and it's weird to think that a good chunk of the audience probably was familiar with that picture. Art's vocal falterings as he speaks ("um," "ah") and the laughter of the audience at all the right places are great reminders of the high level of intimacy between the performers and the audience on this occasion.

Art talks about the time put into writing and recording "The Dangling Conversation," and he also remarks that "The Dangling Conversation" was their favorite song in their repertoire at the time. Almost two years later, in October 1968, he said that "Overs" (from Bookends) had been his "favorite song for quite some time." It's interesting, because the two songs are actually quite similar thematically - beautiful but sad, dealing with stagnation in relationships that you want desperately not to stagnate.

Near the end, as the audience shouts for more, Paul smiles and says, "Just a little kid, you cannot yell like that at me." Then, with true childlike glee, he responds to an audience member's request with a delighted "'Hey, Schoolgirl!' Who said that?" before launching into "For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her," performed to angelic perfection in a solo by Art.

Despite the absence of "Red Rubber Ball," this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It's the only full-length live recording in the S&G published canon that's from any point during their career. It's a great experience and a rare treat - definitely worth listening to.

(original review by Andrea L. Robinson)

If you love the music of Simon and Garfunkel, this is an absolute must-have. Don't hesitate for one second! Some have wondered why it took so long for this recording to come out; perhaps it's because of Paul's legendary perfectionism. I recall him stating in more than one interview that he thought S and G as a studio act was superior to their live performances. Even if you buy that (debatable) idea, this is still a wonderful time capsule, taking us back to a time when two men, a guitar, and some exquisite harmonies could captivate an audience--and a generation. From the technical quality to the superb liner notes, this is a first-rate package in every respect.