Imagine... Under African Skies, BBC One, review Of all the rock stars who might have kick-started the Eighties, world music craze, exposing the world to the joys of African music, Paul Simon must be about the least likely. The mild-mannered singer-songwriter's music and lyrics barely leave the mythically American suburbia of his upbringing. But in 1984, having endlessly played a cassette of South African township jive music in his car, Simon headed for Johannesberg to record with local black musicians. In doing so he created one of the defining albums of the era, Graceland, and an almighty political stink by breaking the UN anti-apartheid cultural boycott, which banned foreign musicians from playing in South Africa. As the album topped the global charts, demonstrations and bomb threats attended Simon's concerts around the world. Imagine's Under African Skies revisited the making of the album and the arguments it created: between the artist's right to self-expression and of South African musicians to be heard, on the one hand, and the need for solidarity in the face of a pernicious and racially divisive regime, on the other. Notionally based around a conversation between Simon and Dali Tambo, the smooth-talking ANC functionary who organised much of the opposition to his 1986 tour, the programme followed Simon back to South Africa on the eve of a 25th anniversary reunion concert. Seen in copious footage of the original recording sessions, Simon appeared at once touchingly humble in the face of the South Africans" musical brilliance and massively arrogant in his indifference to the political situation. In fairness, the South Africans had kept the country's state of high political tension from him. "What the heck, this was a one in a million chance to get our music heard," as one recalled. While Simon played the role of the poor little, misunderstood musician, only someone with the power conferred by massive international celebrity could have pulled this off. Simon, you felt, was genuinely disgusted by apartheid. It was only when he decided to tour with the South African musicians that the problems began. For all its moral prestige, the ANC was effectively powerless in the face of the sheer clout of the man who had written Bridge Over Troubled Water. When the legendary exiled South African musicians Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masakela joined Simon's tour, the absurdity of trying to stop people playing music became apparent. As Simon's guitarist Ray Phiri told the ANC leadership in London, "We face Apartheid every day, and you're asking us to go home? Are you crazy? This was a heartening programme, in which everyone turned out to be a nice guy. Graceland's slippery rhythms still sounded fantastic, even if Simon's lyrics remained weirdly grounded in Middle America. The real stars were the charming, articulate and effortlessly musical South African players. They were lucky to have met Simon, but nothing like as lucky as he was to have met them.