By Michael Kelman Portney

When Paul Simon released Graceland in 1986, he tapped into something far beyond a new musical genre or a bold experiment. The album—built on a foundation of South African sounds fused with American folk and pop—has often been celebrated as groundbreaking, yet also critiqued for potential cultural appropriation. But is that the full story? The argument that Graceland represents appropriation misses the deeper message Simon tapped into: that music, once released into the world, belongs to everyone, and we are all free to be influenced by it. Graceland is more than just an album; it’s a metaphor for American culture and a beacon of creative exchange.

A Journey Beyond Borders

When Simon journeyed to South Africa at the height of apartheid, he was drawn to the sounds he’d encountered in a bootleg cassette of South African street music. Compelled by the rhythmic and melodic qualities, he saw a way to evolve his own music by embracing these global influences. The album wasn’t about Simon claiming ownership of South African music; it was a collaboration. By working directly with local musicians, Simon sought to learn from their art, not to replicate it but to integrate it into something new. His process didn’t simply adopt South African music—it honored it, showcasing the universal language music speaks.

This approach speaks to an enduring truth: Music is a shared experience. The rhythms, melodies, and harmonies that reach our ears come with a history, but they aren’t tethered to one nation, people, or place. Graceland reminds us that once music is released, it belongs to the world, inviting people everywhere to draw inspiration from it, to make it their own, and to continue its journey of growth.

The “Melting Pot” and the Myth of Cultural Ownership

Simon’s collaboration with South African artists symbolizes a core American ideal—the “melting pot,” where diverse influences combine to create something uniquely beautiful. America, as a culture, has historically been a confluence of global traditions. Graceland mirrors that narrative, showing how cultural fusion isn’t inherently appropriation but rather a celebration of diversity that enriches us all.

In a world where sounds travel, merge, and evolve across borders, cultural ownership in music becomes nearly impossible to define. Did rock and roll belong exclusively to its African American originators, or did it transcend ownership to inspire musicians across the globe? When flamenco mingles with jazz or blues finds its way into Japanese compositions, are these cultural exchanges theft—or are they tributes? To assert that anyone “owns” music or that cross-cultural collaboration is inherently exploitative contradicts the freedom of expression that music embodies.

When we confine artists by prescribing what they “should” or “shouldn’t” incorporate into their work based on origin, we limit the full spectrum of creativity. By breaking down the notion of cultural ownership in music, we free it from the constraints of boundaries and categories, allowing it to be as universal as it was meant to be.

Music as a Shared Heritage

The themes of Graceland—a search for redemption, healing, and personal growth—resonate universally. By evoking “Graceland,” Simon adds a layer of mythic Americana, echoing both Elvis Presley’s home and the idea of a promised land or place of grace. Just as people from diverse backgrounds can find resonance in American culture’s promise of possibility, so too can listeners of different origins find meaning in Graceland’s musical fusion. In this way, Graceland doesn’t appropriate South African sounds; it elevates them, weaving them into a universal narrative of journey and self-discovery.

This act of blending genres is nothing new. Jazz emerged from the intersection of African, Caribbean, and American influences, while rock, reggae, hip-hop, and countless other genres arose from similarly blended roots. Each time cultures cross-pollinate in music, they produce something greater than the sum of their parts. This cross-cultural collaboration is what makes music a living, breathing art form.

A Call to Reconsider “Cultural Appropriation” in Music

While respecting and acknowledging the origins of musical forms is essential, we should also recognize that art becomes a shared heritage the moment it’s released to the world. To appreciate a song, to internalize its rhythm or lyric, and to make it part of one’s own identity is a natural, human act. We’re all influenced by the sounds around us, and art thrives when it’s allowed to flow freely.

Rather than viewing Graceland through the restrictive lens of cultural appropriation, perhaps we should see it as a celebration of our interconnectedness. The album is a reminder that music isn’t about borders or ownership; it’s about connection. The moment a song leaves the artist’s hands, it becomes a gift to the world, a spark waiting to inspire someone else. Graceland shows us that we are all creators, that we can—and should—be influenced by the world around us.

Conclusion

In the end, Graceland isn’t about appropriation; it’s about honoring and collaborating, about creating something new out of mutual respect and inspiration. Just as Paul Simon found a part of himself in the sounds of South Africa, we, too, can find parts of ourselves in the music of others. Letting music belong to the world doesn’t mean disregarding its roots; it means allowing it to live freely, to grow, and to touch lives in countless ways.

Music is humanity’s shared language, echoing the voices of many and the spirit of connection. So, let’s leave behind the idea of cultural appropriation in music and embrace the notion that music is a global inheritance—a melody that belongs to everyone, to be shared, celebrated, and passed on to future generations. Graceland reminds us that, together, we can create something beautiful that honors the past and inspires the future.