In the crisp air of February 1970, a song of immense comfort and solace swept across the globe, reaching No. 1 on the charts and capturing the hearts of millions. That song was “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” For countless listeners, it was a hymn of unwavering friendship and support, a musical promise to be there in the darkest of times. The album of the same name would become one of the best-selling albums of all time, a towering achievement that spent an incredible 41 weeks at the top of the charts. Yet, behind this monumental success lay a story of heartbreaking turmoil and a partnership crumbling into dust.
What the public didn’t see was that the duo, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, were living through their own troubled waters. The iconic song was forged not in harmony, but in an atmosphere of growing animosity and professional jealousy. The iconic duo was, in fact, on the verge of a bitter breakup. Paul Simon penned the masterpiece while his partner, Art Garfunkel, was away in Europe, filming the movie Catch-22. The physical and emotional distance between them had grown into a chasm. By the time their fifth and final studio album was released, the beloved partnership was already over. They had built a bridge for the world but had irrevocably burned their own.
The song itself became a flashpoint for their escalating conflict. In a shockingly candid interview with Rolling Stone in 1972, Paul Simon confessed a deep and lasting regret that would haunt him for years. He lamented his decision to have Garfunkel sing the lead vocal solo, a choice he felt pushed him unfairly into the background. Simon admitted he regretted his insistence that Art Garfunkel sing the song as a solo, as it “focused attention on Garfunkel and relegated Simon to a secondary position.” This creative choice, which gave the song its divine and unforgettable voice, simultaneously deepened the wound in their fracturing relationship.
Ironically, Art Garfunkel had initially refused to sing the lead, powerfully arguing that Simon himself should sing the song he had written. As a listener today, it is impossible to imagine anyone but Garfunkel delivering that soaring, angelic vocal that has comforted so many. It was Garfunkel who insisted the song felt incomplete, pushing Simon to write a final verse. That final verse, “Sail on, silver girl,” was a deeply personal message for Simon’s then-wife, Peggy Harper, after she had emotionally discovered her first grey hairs. This final piece of the puzzle was recorded in a studio in Los Angeles, an entire continent away from the New York sessions for the first two verses—a poignant metaphor for the duo’s irreparable drift. The masterpiece was complete, but the partnership was shattered forever.
