On winter nights, the white-noise app on my phone is tuned to Air Conditioner: a raspy, metallic whir that sounds like the mechanical noise that might echo deep inside the ductwork of a huge commercial building. It may also soothe because it replicates an early sound environment, probably that of a Manhattan childhood, though perhaps it suggests something much, much older. Some sleep experts note that babies, their ears accustomed to the whisper of the maternal circulatory system and the slosh of the womb, sleep better accompanied by a device that mimics those familiar whooshings.
Is the World Noisier?
Blocking the Bullfrogs
The song was written by Paul Simon over several months in and A studio audition led to the duo signing a record deal with Columbia Records , and the original ' acoustic ' version of the song was recorded in March at Columbia Studios in New York City and included on their debut album , Wednesday Morning, 3 A. Released on October 19,  the album was a commercial failure and led to the duo disbanding, with Simon returning to England and Art Garfunkel to his studies at Columbia University. In , the song began to attract airplay at radio stations in Boston, Massachusetts , and throughout Florida.
The poem begins with an address to darkness. And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share No one dare Disturb the sound of silence Now the sharp light allows him to see a lot people are talking without speaking and hearing without listening. The complete impersonality of a crowd is portrayed : not only are we lonely when we are alone, but we are also alone even when we are surrounded by other people. He asks them to hear his words and to hold his hand. He tries to warn the people in his dream, he invites them we try to rebel against the system, but they just turn their heads and look the other way. Like Liked by 3 people. Like Liked by 2 people. I am a big fan of this song as I played it regularly back in the day when I performed. Great poetry, as were most of their lyrics.
Hello darkness, my old friendI've come to talk with you againBecause a vision softly creepingLeft its seeds while I was sleepingAnd the vision that was planted in my brainStill remainsWithin the sound of silence. And in the naked light I sawTen thousand people, maybe morePeople talking without speakingPeople hearing without listeningPeople writing songs that voices never shareAnd no one daredDisturb the sound of silenceFools, said I, you do not knowSilence like a cancer growsHear my words that I might teach youTake my arms that I might reach youBut my words, like silent raindrops fellAnd echoed in the wells of silence. In the song Sound of Silence , written when he was 21, Paul Simon reveals a complex view of silence. Alternatively, my psychoanalytic self sees in those lines an allusion to the work done by the unconscious during sleep and dreaming. Later, though, he describes the isolation, sense of emptiness, the anomie, when alone and unheard, looking for a moral compass in a harsh society. As a person and as a psychiatrist as well, I, like many others, bemoan this state of affairs. And I also, as a psychotherapist, know the value of silence in helping one to reflect and understand. This mode of understanding, as we know well, often means listening attentively but silently.