What’d you do over Thanksgiving? Me, I stayed up until 4 in the morning at my parents’ writing up blurbs on most of McCartney’s post-Beatles albums because of a message board challenge. It’s funny what flattery can make a man do. Reprinted here, by request:
“McCartney”:
Fucking brilliant. Some say underproduced, I say an absolute masterpiece of minimalist pop songcraft. In addition to perhaps the only solo track worthy of The Beatles (”Maybe I’m Amazed”, of course), it has several minor gems–”Every Night”, “Singalong Junk” (better as this instrumental version, I think)–but also tracks like “Hot As Sun/Glasses”, which reveal a keen grasp of impressionist abstraction. A remarkable deconstruction of The Beatles’ lavish pop structures.
“Ram”
In which McCartney very consciously puts it back together again. Not a bad thing, though, because the songwriting is sharp and the maximalist lo-fi production enticing. In addition to the pop prog of “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” and “Back Seat of My Car”, the record has almost too many highlights: the stomping “Too Many People”, the additive layers of “Ram On” and “Dear Boy”, the slapback nonsense of “Eat At Home” and rustic whimsy of “Heart of the Country” and “Long Haired Lady” — track for track, his melodic acuity would rarely be this consistent again. The worst that can be said about it is that its pleasures are a touch superficial. Still, one of his best.
“Wild Life”
Charming in places, but tossed-off and inessential. Opening improv, “Mumbo”, is a smoking rocker, but the best tracks are, surprisingly, simple duets with Linda: “Some People Never Know”, “Tomorrow”, as well as “Dear Friend” (which goes on a bit long). Best song is the UK bonus track, “Mama’s Little Girl”, a ghostly, staggeringly beautiful ballad not unlike “Blackbird”, but with lush Wings vocals, if you like that sort of thing. I kinda do.
“Red Rose Speedway”
A favorite of Macca fanatics. None of the songs mean a goddamn thing, and Paul was almost audibly stoned to the gills on this one, but almost all the tracks are melodically sharp. “Big Barn Bed” has a great ensemble vocal chorus, “My Love” is shimmering, “Get On The Right Thing” is Little Richard at run through the Gold Star reverb chamber. Elsewhere, there’s a serviceable C&W riff (”One More Kiss”), an appealing light ballad (”Single Pigeon”), a lazy lite one (”When the Night”), and two medleys — one (”Little Lamb/Dragonfly”) utterly gorgeous, with the other sounding like he orchestrated a worktape. Not a bad thing, really. Oh and a quasi-Indian chant set to a disco-funk backbeat — you need this.
“Band On The Run”
Honestly? The least exciting of his “classic” solo records, largely because it lacks almost any trace of the carelessness that makes his solo work frustrating but exciting, given that we’re talking about someone with the skills of McCartney. Still, “Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five” is a blast, as is the “If we ever get out of here” section of the title track, and “Let Me Roll It” positively aches. Other moments are enjoyable, but oddly hollow.
“Venus And Mars”
A prototypical McCartney record — brilliant and fun in places, it’s also larded with utter garbage. The brilliant stuff starts with the title track, its reprise in particular, which ends with a lysergic vocal tag that fucking shimmers with Wilsonian grace. In addition, the eastern-tinged “Love In Song” is gorgeous, “Magneto and Titaneum Man” a shuffling blast, and “Listen To What the Man Said” fun. But where “Letting Go” shows Macca embracing 70s rock with gusto, “Rock Show” is fairly plodding arena rock fare expressly designed for the then-upcoming Wings Over America tour. Oh, and there’s the first of his “Old people make me sad” songs. Still, significantly more good than bad.
“Wings At The Speed Of Sound”
“Let ‘Em In” might be the quintessential McCartney single — in addition to a sharp lyric and sticky tune, the unrelenting piano ostinato and revolutionary war piccolo riff are weird to the point of obsessive. What’s the best fuck you to critics in history? An easy listening smash — “Silly Love Songs”. Both tracks are just fucking subversive. Other than these and the startling ballad “Warm And Beautiful”, things are thin — “The Note You Never Wrote” would be great if it were McCartney not Denny singing, “Beware My Love” seems like it should be better than it is, and the otherwise snappy “She’s My Baby” errs in repeating “Moppin’ it up!” a bit too much — ick. The idea of letting the band chime in was perhaps ill-advised.
“London Town”
All over the map, but largely in a good way. McCartney’s definitely settling into a groove here, with a lush, orchestrated sound that aims less for transcendence than straightforward pop appeal with dabs of experimentation here and there. Highlights include the stately title track and “With A Little Luck”, a classic MOR ballad, but also the oddball “Backwards Traveller” and “I’m Carrying”, one of his most moving acoustic guitar ballads.
“Back To the Egg”
Though its quasi-conceptual ambitions are far from fully realized, this is probably the best Wings record. He just does everything here–Armed Forces-era Elvis C. (”Getting Closer”), Aja-era Steely Dan (”Arrow Through Me”), Ray Charles (”After the Ball”)–and his voice never sounded better. Even the failures are interesting (in theory, anyway), particularly his rock orchestra experiment (”Rockestra” which includes the likes of Pete Townshend and John Paul Jones), as well as the two impressionistic medleys on side two. Another favorite amongst McCartney fanatics and for good reason.
“McCartney II”
Where the first McCartney record embraced a rustic back-to-basics approach, the second volume reflected the advancement of the DIY aesthetic he had unknowingly midwifed. A decade before, Emmitt Rhodes had mimicked McCartney’s go-it-alone approach and sound; by 1980, synthesizers were beginning to make possible albums that were truly “solo,” from Eno to post-punk to Steve Winwood, whose Arc of a Diver would take its cue from this record in proving that an artist could make a complete pop statement (however minor) all by his lonesome.
Continuing the experimental tack of Egg, McCartney II reflects an awareness of these developments and includes at least four McCartney classics — the snappy “Coming Up”, the melancholy (and bizarre) “Waterfalls”, the Eno-flavored “Summer’s Day Song” and haunting ballad “One Of These Days”. For all the excitement surround the experiments that work, the record also has a collection of interesting-to-mediocre synth instrumentals and aimless drum box jams that don’t, making it clear he had an affinity for some DIY developments and merely an interest in others.
“Tug Of War”
Possibly his most overrated record, but that’s understandable given its origins (produced by George Martin) and proximity to Lennon’s death. In reality, the record’s only differentiating characteristic with its predecessors is its questionable quality. There are undeniable moments of beauty and grace (”Wanderlust”, the opening of the title track), as well as inspired eclecticism (”The Pound Is Sinking”, the wistful rockabilly of “Get It” with Carl Perkins segue into vocoder link track “Be What You See”). But there is also uncomfortably hamfisted balladry (”Ebony”, the plodding middle section of the title track, the disappointing Lennon tribute “Here Today” among others). Part of the blame goes to Martin, who even on the super-catchy hit single, “Take It Away”, imposes a supersession lite MOR production that does the material no favors. Frustrating in a lot of ways, because it feels like it should be better than it is.
“Pipes of Peace”
I don’t really know it, and what I’ve heard hasn’t really inspired me to pick it up.
“Press To Play”
Ah, the sleeper in his catalogue. The concept was simple: Paul McCartney does mid-80s synth rock a la Genesis and Phil Collins — a terrible idea that ultimately sold like crap. But clearly McCartney heard something symphonic in the production of those records, so he the man responsible for them, Hugh Padgham. Assembling a veritable who’s who of the scene (including Collins, SNL saxman Lenny Pickett, Pete Townshend, as well as arrangers Tony Visconti and Art of Noise orchestrator Anne Dudley), writing a patch of tracks with 10cc’s Eric Stewart, he set about making his Invisible Touch.
And in truth, unlike Tug of War, most of it works, though in a dated kind of way. “Good Times Comin’/Feel the Sun” bristles with energy and “Only Love Remains” is a solid McCartney piano ballad, while “Press” (about pleasuring his wife) and “Talk More Talk” show Paul excelling at pre-sequenced synth textures. Still, it’s the tracks with Stewart that shine brightest; “Stranglehold” and “Footprints” are an ebbulient rocker and haunting atmospheric ballad respectively, but “However Absurd”, with its helium bridge and pounding metallic piano, is stunning. There are misfires—the quasi-aboriginal “Pretty Little Head”, the pointless “Angry”—but as genre exercises go, the record is fairly brilliant.
“Flowers In The Dirt”
Where Press To Play felt inspired, this feels a bit aimless, as if he didn’t know what he wanted to do exactly. Apart from the brilliant Irish gospel of “That Day Is Done”, the much-heralded Costello collaborations are overhyped, while those with Trevor Horn are outright disappointing. Plus, several tracks employ plodding arena rock productions that ruin the material. Still, there are moments where McCartney’s songwriting shines through: the ebbulient “This One” has a sharp tune, “Put It There” is a charming ode to fatherhood, and “My Brave Face” almost transcends its overproduction. But it’s all over the place, and not in a good way.
Beyond that, I don’t really know any of his 90s records more than to say Off the Ground sounded fairly dreadful, Flaming Pie flat and Driving Rain…okay. I still haven’t quite given up on him, though.