Paul Simon - Kodachrome Lyrics Meaning

The first thing that needs to be understood is that narrator equates hard-work reality as Black and White, and carefree immaturity as Kodachrome, and we clearly know which one he prefers. Because "Everything looks worse in black and white" we know that he much prefers, in contrast, "the greens of summer" when school was out.

In the 2nd stanza, the narrator seemingly escapes the drudgery and failure of school with his Nikon camera. A camera, by the way, that "Makes you think all the world's a sunny day". That is to say, that even those days that aren't sunny can be made sunny with a camera. A hard life, when viewed through the lens of camera, can look to be much more colorful, pleasurable and interesting.

However, most photographers will admit that they consider themselves distant and detached observers of the static objects of their photography, or more of a chronicler or a journalist than a participant. Perhaps even a manipulator of reality. But when they lower the camera, the ever-moving black-and-white world re-emerges. So while the stanza seems cheery, in actuality we’re witness to the narrator’s sad self-delusion. A cheery self-delusion so addictive that he pleads to keep his camera.

The two most curious lines are the ones that end the first and second stanzas:

"I can read the writing on the wall"

and

"So mama don't take my Kodachrome away"

Regarding curious line #1: What, exactly, is the writing on the wall that the narrator understands so well, and even dreads? Does he understand that because he lacks a good education that his prospects are both few and dim despite the fact that, up to this point, his "lack of education hasn't hurt [him] none?" Are those carefree days numbered? Indeed, someone is, in fact, intent on taking his camera -- his escape -- away, which will then force him to face the hard unpleasant black-and-white realities of life.

Which leads us to curious line #2. Clearly he's pleading for someone not to take his camera away, which represents his carefree and constant "greens of summer" happiness. After all, the "greens of summer” soon enough become the browns of winter, except, of course, in a photograph. But who is this camera-taking "mama" and why does she want to take his camera?

In the third stanza, the narrator says "...when I was single", so we know that he is married. (At the time of the album’s release Simon had been married for four years. But considering the first stanza, I think we can dismiss any notion that the song is autobiographical.) I think we can now assume that this "mama" is the narrator’s wife who is perhaps pressuring him to get a job and settle down? Furthermore, the use of the word “mama” insinuates fatherhood – maybe even first-time fatherhood and all of its new responsibilities and hard realities. In fact, Simon’s first child, Harper, was born the year before the album’s release, so fatherhood, and paternal responsibilies, would be foremost in Simon’s mind.

Is this camera-less, black-and-white fatherhood fate the "writing on the wall" he dreads in the first stanza? Is the "writing on the wall", in fact, a ballooning pregnancy? And is the camera-taking “mama” really the concept and prospects fatherhood. If so, it would then serve to link the two apparently disparate stanzas together.

In the third stanza, which is yet another disparate break from the first two stanzas, we find out that he still frequently thinks about all the girls he knew in the past, or his former lovers, and absurdly imagines reuniting them all together for one night of mad crazy passion. However, he knows (and correctly so) that the black-and-white reality of such a night would never measure up to the crazy Kodachrome fantasy he's concocted in his mind. Indeed, he recognizes that his fantasy Kodachrome life is just that -- an absurd fantasy. Although it looks worse in black-and-white, it is, in fact, reality.

There is some optimism in his voice in the last line when he says that everything "looks" worse in black-and-white, or interpreted differently, “only appears” to be worse, giving him some hope to believe that looking worse doesn't necessarily mean that it is worse.

Taken together, what we're seeing is a young man who made irresponsible choices regarding his education and he's now heading into the stage of his life where he needs to find a job, settle down, and embrace imminent fatherhood, and although his lack of education hasn't hurt him to this point, he knows that's all about to change.

While he's still valiantly (maybe, foolishly) fighting this transition from immaturity into maturity, from adolescence into adulthood, he is beginning to realize the absurdity of continuing to believe in the immature fantasy, and he is now willing to accept the black-and-white reality and move forward with a hint of optimism.

In the two subsequent albums where the song is included -- The Concert in Central Park and Paul Simon's Concert in the Park, August 15, 1991 – the last line is changed to "Everything looks better in black and white". This is not an insignificant change. Reflecting Simon’s own maturity, now the narrator has lived in his black-and-white reality for a while and has discovered that reality, as hard and unforgiving as it is, is in fact infinitely better than keeping yourself immersed in an immature and irresponsible fantasy life.

Buried deep in the repeating refrain of mama don’t take my Kodachrome is the enigmatic line

Leave your boy so far from home

I doubt this line has any significant meaning. I think Simon simply liked the seven hard-beat single-syllable words that make up the line, with the last three words rhyming with Kodachrome. The Beatles were similarly known to hide enigmatic lines within refrains, and perhaps Simon was just picking that trick up and applying it here.

A would be remiss to not mention contrasting interpretations of the song’s lyrics. The two most interesting are:

(1) Kodachrome represents Playboy magazines – Playboy pictorials at the time were taken in Kodachrome film which produced lush, almost artificial colors. The meaning of the refrain "mama don’t take my Kodachrome" can be interpreted quite literally then. The narrator of the song, who was a poor to middling high school student, has now found himself addicted to his Playboy magazines, and in the last stanza he imagines “all the girls I knew”, or all the Playboy centerfolds, in one big sexual (and highly unlikely) fantasy orgy.

(2) Kodachrome was also the street name for a 70s brand of LSD. These lines take on a deeper meaning then:

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don’t take my Kodachrome away

In this interpretation, the boxy Nikon camera he has represents the sugar cube with the LSD drop, and taking a photograph represents eating the sugar cube. The “nice bright colors”, of course, represent the surreal, hyper-intense colors associated with an acid trip. However, in this interpretation, the third stanza defies explanation.

These two interpretations are far-fetched. Taking Simon's body of work as a whole, these sorts of large sex and drug themes are largely missing. Overall, Simon’s work largely revolves around introspective personal journeys and sweet love songs, not masturbation and acid trips