Showing posts with label Paul McCartney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul McCartney. Show all posts

August 05, 2014

Book Review: Man on the Run - Paul McCartney in the 1970s by Tom Doyle


By the time the Beatles had officially broken up in April 1970, Paul McCartney was one of the world’s most celebrated musicians, having achieved just about every benchmark in the music business as well as the notoriety that comes with being a cultural icon. With John Lennon he’d forged the most beloved (and lucrative) songwriting partnership in pop music history. With the band as a whole he’d crafted a catalog that was by and large regarded as creatively unrivaled. Such distinctions were ones which McCartney understood all too well when, while confronting the unenviable prospect of following up the Fab Four, he embarked upon the next phase of his musical life.

He was 27-years old.

As author and music journalist Tom Doyle chronicles in Man on the Run: Paul McCartney in the 1970s, McCartney’s next phase ended up being the most turbulent decade of his career. 

Well researched and partly informed by Doyle’s own interviews with his subject, the book adds sharper context to the familiar portrait presented by other such biographies of a preternaturally gifted, boyishly charismatic family man to reveal the McCartney of this era as being often oblivious to (or at least careless of) the ways in which the real world works outside the Beatles bubble. Matters that likely never crossed his mind as a member of the Beatles now as the leader of his next band, Wings, not only became necessary concerns—auditioning and hiring (and firing) musicians, compensating those musicians, replenishing the band’s requisite marijuana supply—but were also his responsibility. If he wasn’t quite longing to reunite with his old mates from Liverpool, McCartney nevertheless seems to have missed the sense of refuge they collectively conferred, from the implicit quality of musicianship in John, George, and Ringo, to producer’s George Martin’s almost paternal guidance, musical wisdom, and studio expertise. 


As far as the music McCartney composed in the ‘70s is concerned, pertinent circumstances of its creation are offered throughout the book. There isn’t too much in the way of session details (examining how songs evolved, critiquing specific takes, etc.), with the emphasis instead focusing on how McCartney maneuvered through the various twists and turns of his life while making that music. Given a subject as well-documented as McCartney, it’s an effective narrative approach. The depicted scene surrounding the recording of 1973’s Band on the Run, in particular, which found McCartney naïvely travelling not only with Wings (and former Moody Blues) mate Denny Laine and engineer Geoff Emerick but also with his own wife and children to Lagos, Nigeria—a scene of rampant crime, poverty, and political corruption—is especially gripping. 

Man on the Run tells of McCartney the human being as much as McCartney the superstar musician, and readers will likewise appreciate its insights and enjoy the story it has to tell.



January 08, 2014

The Beatles U.S. Catalog Readied For iTunes Release

Photo © Apple Corps Ltd.

With the 50th anniversary of the Beatles’ maiden American voyage fast approaching, the Fab Four’s music is sure to enjoy an all new retail resurgence—including an exclusive digital release of their thirteen U.S. albums on iTunes. The entire catalog, from 1964’s Meet the Beatles through 1970’s Hey Jude, is currently available for pre-order from the online Apple music outlet. 


Both physical and digital versions of the catalog will be released on January 21.



Photo © Apple Corps Ltd.




November 15, 2013

New Springsteen Doc Gives Fans Reasons to Believe

The level of enthusiasm Bruce Springsteen inspires in his audience is one with which only a few other music legends could empathize and with which even fewer have sustained for as long. From the songwriting that gives life to his albums to the showmanship that gives life to his epic-length concerts, the Boss has spent the past 40 years living up to his own conceived mythologies and—more importantly—giving listeners their own reasons to believe. 

Springsteen &  I, which debuted in theaters this past July and was released on October 29 by Eagle Rock on DVD, Blu-ray, and digital video, is at once an affirmation and a celebration of this singular passion. Directed by Baillie Walsh, the documentary tells of the effect of Springsteen’s music on his fans from the perspective of the fans themselves. And there’s a certain poignancy, in fact, to the ways in which those profiled in this film describe how Springsteen’s music has influenced and in some ways even shaped their day-to-day lives, making for an ultimately uplifting exposition on the profound power of music overall. 


For those who are still baffled by such passion of the faithful, the extras include a sampling of live footage, recorded last year in London, of Springsteen and the E Street Band in action before a thoroughly enamored, massive festival crowd. The moments of Springsteen playing “I Saw Her Standing There” and “Twist and Shout” with special guest Paul McCartney, which ended the show before concert officials literally pulled the plug on it, illustrate that passion wonderfully coming full circle.


October 15, 2013

Album Review: Paul McCartney - New

It makes sense that Paul McCartney has courted a decidedly youthful demographic in promoting his first album of original material in six years, New (Hear Music): by appearing on Hollywood Boulevard for a taping of Jimmy Kimmel Live, on a big rig in Times Square, or at Frank Sinatra School of the Arts in Queens, the 71-year-old icon has appealed to audiences most likely attuned to the album’s precocious, experimental spirit.

In a way New recalls McCartney’s 2008 LP with The Fireman, Electric Arguments, particularly in how its most rambunctious pop rockers (“Queenie Eye,” “Everybody Out There”) fuse acoustic-rich foundations with techno-drenched loops and other similarly kooky effects. Some songs are more progressive than others (“Road,” “Appreciate”), but even the most seemingly straightforward, organic ones (“Early Days,” “Looking At Her”) are complemented with at-least-discreet effects. The album boasts four different producers (Paul Epworth, Mark Ronson, Giles Martin, Ethan Johns), yielding a bit of a hodgepodge disposition overall. The diversity works, though, not least because of the ageless enthusiasm and imagination McCartney exudes throughout.



September 04, 2013

McCartney Back with Something 'New' (Song Review)


Sure it sounds like something he hashed out in about twenty minutes while the veggie burgers simmered on the grill outside, but what Paul McCartney is capable of writing in twenty minutes is often better than what most other artists slave to create in weeks or months. “New” is a bubbly little pop tune in the vein of eighties singles like “Press” and “Take It Away,” made all the more endearing by the now seventy-one-year-old Beatle’s still-boyish charm and enthusiasm. What the song has going for it more than anything else, though, is an instantly memorable, hum-along melody—News Flash to No One: McCartney writes memorable melodies—which even after multiple listens ensures that it’ll take a while before “New” ever gets old.


April 06, 2012

McCartney Can't Save The Love We Make

In the weeks after the 9/11 attacks, a timid unease plagued the music industry, resulting in the cancellation or postponement of numerous previously scheduled events and concert tours. As sad, horrific images blanketed the television airwaves around the clock—on seemingly every channel, not just the usual news networks—many artists wrestled with the notion that by going ahead with business as usual (particularly when business as usual was a rock show or likewise celebratory event) they’d be perceived as insensitive to prevailing sentiments.

Having grown up in post-World War II England, where blitz bombing raids had ravaged entire communities, Paul McCartney understood the invaluable role musicians had long since played in lifting people’s spirits during perilous times. Compelled to use his stature to in any way mitigate the grief pervading America, McCartney organized the all-star benefit Concert for New York City at Madison Square Garden, which ultimately boasted such icons as Elton John, David Bowie, and the Who.

Directed by Albert Maysles (Gimme Shelter), The Love We Make aims to document "McCartney's cathartic journey through New York City in the aftermath of 9/11.”

The film often feels unnecessarily self-serving, however, focusing more on what it’s like to be Paul McCartney during a press junket rather than on the film's more altruistic ambitions. Much of it dwells on a dizzying schedule of promotional appearances for the benefit concert as well as for his then-current album, Driving Rain, including television and radio interviews, logistical planning, and autograph signing—on a crowded sidewalk, in an elevator, in a car—at every turn.

Still, the film isn’t lacking for compelling moments. One such bit of footage finds McCartney visiting with firefighters—his father had been a volunteer fireman, something which clearly means all the more to him when visiting a local ladder that had confronted the Ground Zero inferno—and interacting with random fans and strangers on the street. That he still can relate to people far less famous than himself, after half a century of unprecedented notoriety, is remarkable and quite touching to behold.

Another intriguing element of the film is how it captures McCartney in creative mode during rehearsals for the Madison Square Garden concert, breaking in a then-new band and work-shopping songs he’d only recently written and recorded (specifically “From a Lover to a Friend” and the makeshift anthem “Freedom”). For all the available footage that exists of McCartney down through the years playing music, far less shows him actually working on it. 

Unfortunately such moments are all too rare and disjointed within the overall presentation. McCartney's compassion and selflessness is indisputable. The manner in which Maysles attempts to portray this ostensibly poignant experience, however, just doesn't come across.


(First published at Blogcritics.)


September 05, 2011

An Interview with Bill Frisell


Once guitarist and composer Bill Frisell began working on an album in tribute to John Lennon, memories and emotions he'd long associated with the late legend’s music, both with The Beatles and as a solo artist, caught up to him. Thinking about almost fifty years ago hearing some of those things for the first time, he says, it ended up being kind of a heavy thing to do.

In collaborating with a few friends — guitarist Greg Leisz, violinist Jenny Scheinman, drummer Kenny Wollesen, and bassist Tony Scherr — the experience was made all the more poignant. “It really did bring us together in this way I’d never felt before,” Frisell reflects. “
It was almost like this healing, warm cloud came over us that the music put there. 


Throughout such classics as “In My Life,” “Beautiful Boy,” and “Across The Universe,” All We Are Saying..., which will be released on September 27 by Savoy Jazz/429 Records, honors Lennon’s artistry with considerate, inspired performances.


I didn’t prepare for it, says Frisell of the effort overall, but then it was like I’d been preparing for it my whole life. 


In making the album did you learn anything about John Lennon’s songs that you perhaps weren’t as aware of before?

It reminded me of how deceptively simple they are sometimes. Some of them maybe just have two chords or three chords. If you analyze it in a conservatory kind of way, it’s like, “Well there’s this, and there’s that.” It doesn’t seem that complicated, but then what happens with it is so extraordinary. You listen for five seconds and then the song just latches onto you. You can’t shake it off. And it’s not because of some big corporate, commercial machinery that’s rammed it down our throats. It’s genuinely because of the music, I think. There really is something transcendent about it; it transcends all. So much of it is so personal to him, but it’s also so universal at the same time. We all know what he’s talking about.

An improvisational spirit runs through much of your work in general. On this one in particular, how did you channel that into songs which are already so ingrained in the culture?

I didn’t want to re-harmonize them or deconstruct them. For me they’re just these perfect gems of music. The only thing we had to do was play it. The luxury I had there was that the band I was with, we have such a long history together and a way of playing together. Fifteen years ago I started playing with most of them in one way or another. So there’s just a way of communicating with each other when we play that we don’t really have to figure things out or talk about them. We just start going. It’s improvising, but it’s also sort of—

Instinctive?

Yeah. I mean, nothing on this album was really worked out or figured out beforehand. We just started playing whatever song it was. And there’s kind of a way we have a way of playing... One person will start a melody and another person will finish it. There were no arrangements. We had charts, but the charts were just representations of whatever the original version of the song was. Then we just went for it. For me that’s the most inspiring way of playing anyways. Whatever the music is, I want it to feel like everyone at every moment there’s not one person that’s less important than another.

How do you maintain your enthusiasm for making music, whether you’re interpreting someone else’s music or writing your own? What keeps you curious and what keeps you motivated? 


I guess I take it for granted, but that’s the least of my… It’s more fighting to have the time to stay in the world of music all the time. There’s never any lack of… You never have to worry about what’s coming next. If you’re in the music there’s something always there right in front of you, like, “Wow, look at that,” or, “I want to try this.” That’s what it’s been my whole life. I never have to think of what to do next because it’s like this overwhelming amount of possibilities always right in front of me. So I try to get to as much as I can.

So the well never runs dry?

No. I mean… Music is crazy. You wake up every day and there’s as much in front of you that you haven’t done as there ever has been. You never think it’s the end of it. To me it feels good being in it. I never get tired of it, that’s for sure.

Does the guitar challenge you still?

Oh yeah, totally. Every day, I swear, it doesn’t feel that much different than the very first time I ever picked it up. I mean, I’ve been playing it for 50 years or something. And then today I’ll grab it and it’s like, “Oh my God, how am I gonna play this thing?” It still feels like that. You’re just at the beginning all the time. That’s something I’ve had to get comfortable with. It can be discouraging. It can bum you out, like, “Man, I’m never gonna get it.” But then part of the thing with music is you have to be comfortable with the idea that you’re never gonna get it right. You just have to get as close as you can. Everything I play is just an approximation of what I wish I could really play.




May 15, 2011

Review: Paul McCartney & Wings - Band on the Run [Special Edition Reissue 2CD/1DVD]


Not even four years had passed since the Beatles had broken up and 31-year-old Paul McCartney was already contending with the band’s larger-than-life mythology. Sure, he’d scored some resilient solo hits, singles like “Maybe I’m Amazed,” “Live and Let Die,” and “My Love,” but in the main his albums didn’t rival the consistent artistry illustrated on Revolver or Abbey Road.

Whether or not he achieved that distinction with 1973’s Band on the Run is debatable, but with such songs as “Jet,” “Let Me Roll It,” and the three-movement title track, McCartney had unquestionably created his strongest, most cohesive solo album to date, solidifying his relevance as a solo artist.
 
Issued late last year by Concord Music Group as the inaugural volume of the Paul McCartney Archive Collection — its next installments, 1970’s McCartney and 1980’s McCartney II, are set for a June 14 release — Band on the Run is given fuller context on this triple-disc (2CD/1DVD) set. Apart from the album proper, a bonus disc of solid, in-studio performances as well as the B-side “Helen Wheels” help in illustrating McCartney’s aesthetic at the time and, in so doing, complements the album well.

The real gem of the bonus footage, though, is the grainy, home-video-quality film, One Hand Clapping, which shows McCartney and band working through tracks in the studio from Band on the Run as well as other select cuts. It’s not Let It Be by any means — no one in Wings really questions, much less criticizes, McCartney’s ideas or methods — but it nevertheless gives viewers an insider’s look at his creative process at this point.

That McCartney could carve out a fruitful solo career for the long haul was not a given at this point — that he’d one day become the most successful songwriter in popular music history was, of course, even less conceivable — yet his will to create music on his own and on his own terms is most evident in this compelling reissue collection.



March 25, 2010

Knebworth '90 Still Royally Rocks

On June 30, 1990 in Hertfordshire, England, on the stomping grounds of some of rock’s most historic, landmark events—the site of Led Zeppelin’s last stand on British soil, in ’79; where Freddie Mercury fronted Queen for the final time, in ’86—approximately 120,000 people descended upon Knebworth Park for a massive all-star concert benefiting the Nordof-Robbins Music Charity Centre and the Brit School for Performing Arts.

Long out of print in audio form (a DVD version was released in 2002), Live at Knebworth has at last been reissued, sounding just as dynamic as it did 20 years ago. Boasting a motherload of British music royalty, the double-disc set highlights extended performances by the likes of Paul McCartney, Elton John, Eric Clapton, Genesis, and Pink Floyd.

Given the random song selection, one could split hairs over which tracks made the cut—do you really need another live version of “Comfortably Numb”?—but on the whole it makes for a most enjoyable live album.


The “do-you-really-need-another” scrutiny could just as easily apply to the inclusion of other tracks like “Sunshine of Your Love” (Clapton), “Saturday Night’s Alright (For Fighting)” (Elton) or “Hey Jude” (McCartney). In the case of McCartney, though, it’s worth noting that he’d only begun playing a generous amount of Beatles songs in concert during the world tour he was on at this time, his first such road trip in 13 years. And on the heels of a momentous homecoming concert in Liverpool just two days before—where he poignantly paid tribute to John Lennon with a medley of “Strawberry Fields Forever," “Help,” and “Give Peace A Chance”—McCartney hit Knebworth in particularly high spirits, as his other featured track, a rambunctious take on “Coming Up,” revealed even further.

A more contemporary band didn’t stand much of a chance among all the legendary rockers on the bill, yet with “Badman’s Song,” Tears For Fears delivered one of the best (if not the best) performance of the entire show. In a fiery exchange, lead singer Roland Orzabal and the band’s best-kept secret, Oleta Adams — remember her anguished vocal on “Woman In Chains”? — summoned a menacing, 11-minute tour de force.

And so while one’s preferences will determine which selections they enjoy better than others, there really isn’t a bad track in the bunch. As an overview of Knebworth ‘90, it’s solid.


November 30, 2009

Anthony DeCurtis On Robert Palmer Book, Music Criticism, Artist Interviews

When music journalist Robert Palmer died on November 20, 1997 at the age of 52, he’d long since cemented his reputation as one of the most astute experts in his field. A fixture at Rolling Stone for over two decades, the first person designated as chief pop-music critic for The New York Times, and an author of six books, Palmer examined and chronicled music with feral acuity while, at the same time, appreciating the best of it with unadulterated joy.

“In a style that blended elegance and hipster enthusiasm, he would travel deeper and deeper into his subject, bringing his readers along with him in the interest of turning them on to something he loved,” Anthony DeCurtis writes of Palmer in the preface to the recently published anthology, Blues & Chaos: The Music Writing of Robert Palmer, which he edited.

DeCurtis, a longtime contributing editor at Rolling Stone and himself the author of two retrospective anthologies—Rocking My Life Away: Writing About Music And Other Matters and In Other Words: Artists Talk About Life And Work—has been a preeminent voice in music criticism and cultural commentary for nearly thirty years. In addition to his written submissions to the magazine, in the '90s DeCurtis served as the editor of Rolling Stone's record-review section, which led him to work directly with Palmer, the experience undoubtedly informing some of his recollections on him now. Presently, DeCurtis teaches in the writing program at the University of Pennsylvania.

In this extensive interview with Donald Gibson, Anthony DeCurtis discusses Blues & Chaos and the late Robert Palmer before generously yielding insight to his own career and craft. Along the way he reflects on music's immeasurable capacity to spark creative minds, the pros and cons of artist interviews, and how one such interview with a certain childhood idol resonates with him today.

How did editing someone else’s work compare to editing your own two anthologies?

You’re kind of willing to make mistakes on your own behalf. The two collections of my own that I did, I had fairly specific ideas for what I wanted them to be like. And once I got some momentum going on pulling it all together, I didn’t really question that too much. With the Palmer book, I found myself thinking a lot about how he would want to be represented…and about whether or not my own vision of what this book should be would match his. Finally, I just decided, this is what it means to be an editor. I was his editor. So it’s going to reflect his voice and who he was as I understood him.

I was interviewing Patti Smith, who knew Palmer and really liked him. I gave her a copy of the book—we had just gotten copies—and I brought one down to the interview and I handed it to her. We were being filmed for PBS and, because it was a film thing, there were endless periods of just sitting around, not really having to work. So we had a chance to discuss it, too. I was telling her some of the anxieties I’d went through about representing him. Patti Smith just held the book up. She just held the book up in her hand in front of me and said, “Look what you did for him. Look what you did for him. He has this now.”

She’s good with symbolism, isn’t she?

Yeah, exactly. [Laughs] And her holding it, it just gave me a certain distance of it. I thought, 'You know, it’s actually turned out pretty well.' Just for a moment like this and for her to say that, it was gratifying.

In working with Palmer at Rolling Stone as his editor in the ‘90s, was there anything about his style at that point that had some effect or informed the way you appreciated rock criticism?

It wasn’t so much that; I just enjoyed reading him. He was certainly a writer that I’d assign things to because I wanted to read that piece. One of the things that probably should be said is how gracious he was. Maybe he was like this with everyone; I don’t know what other people’s experience was. But with me he was very cooperative. If I had a question, he would answer it. Or if I had a suggestion, he would listen to it. There are people who are so difficult.

Like you mention in the book, people with bigger egos than talent.

Exactly. And that really became my measure, in a way. As I sat there with people, I’d be thinking, ‘With Bob Palmer I would’ve been done in five minutes and I’m sitting here arguing with you for half an hour. You couldn’t stand in his shadow.’ So I definitely took a lesson from that, that your confidence actually enabled you to accept ideas and to accept suggestions. The degree of your talent didn’t mean that you then bullied everybody. It meant that you could still be open. And Bob was.

When you say he was open to ideas, was he also open to criticism on a technical scale, if you didn’t like the particular flow of an article or a direction he took?

We were in tune a lot of the time, so it rarely came up. But Bob would occasionally veer off. He had a lot of interests that I would regard as esoteric. So if it’s in the middle of a review of a Megadeth record or something—he would go off on a fairly long stint on some aspect of paganism or something he felt their music represented—I would essentially just get rid of that. I suppose there are places where that stuff plays. It doesn’t play in Rolling Stone. And I think he got that. He’d try things and if they worked, they worked. If they didn’t, they didn’t. In the book, for example, the second Morocco story, which is really wild, called “Into The Mystic”—where he’s essentially having visions and things like this—I think he was pretty struck [that Rolling Stone published it]. He wrote about people saying to him, “You submitted that to Rolling Stone?” That one flew. He got that one by. He would, as all writers do, you attempt certain things. And you think, let’s see how much of this I get. Bob was pretty pragmatic, I suppose, is the bottom line here. He understood what the magazine was and I think he accepted that. He occasionally pushed against the margins of what that could be and sometimes he got away with it and sometimes he didn’t. But he was always cool about it. Let me say this, I never had an argument with him.

So he never held a grudge for, say, you taking away a semi-colon?

Oh, God no. [Laughs] I think he appreciated it. He liked the way his stuff came out. He got it. As wild as Bob was in certain ways, he worked at a daily newspaper for nearly ten years. Anybody in a position like that—writing for Rolling Stone, writing for The New York Times—you’re in a position where you can really have an impact. On the other hand, there are certain things you trade off for that. I think he got that. He liked having an impact. He liked feeling like his stuff was getting read and getting to a big audience of people, not all of whom would know about the things he was writing about. And I think he was willing to do what he needed to do to make that happen.

Do you think rock criticism serves more as encouragement for artists to make better music or as encouragement for listeners to refine their tastes?

It’s more like an interpretation of the entire phenomenon. Like, why does anybody need to understand why they like Britney’s latest single? But I do believe that a good writer can make you hear things in a way that you haven’t heard them before. They can deepen your comprehension of them. And that’s as true for Britney’s latest single as it is the latest Radiohead album. I think that that’s always true. I wouldn’t presume to think that I could lecture artists on what they want to do. I think they’re almost a lot better off when they just kind of do it and don’t worry about it too much… Interviewing someone like David Bowie, for example—who is as interesting as a critic as he is an artist; and he’s very interesting as an artist—he is somebody who is really able to hear music and think about it very critically, or analytically, I suppose. He’s not somebody who’s going to say to you, “Oh, you know, it’s just mystical; it really just comes to me.” He’ll talk about some R&B record from the 1950s that he lifted something from. And so those conversations—if you’re a writer—are the most exciting ones, where they’re doing it, but they’re also speaking your language.

And when Bowie listens analytically, it doesn’t take away his appreciation of the music on a visceral level.

Exactly. He still listens and enjoys stuff. He hears things the way critics hear them. He told me a story one time—I was interviewing him for VH-1 for a series on the ‘70s—he talked about being with Brian Eno, when Eno first heard these Giorgio Moroder productions of Donna Summer. He was imitating Eno’s wild enthusiasm about how fantastic these things sounded. And these are two really smart guys, but they both went on to use all that stuff.

They went nuts over “Love To Love You Baby.”

Yes! [Laughs] I find the ability of music to move across those kinds of thresholds really fantastic. They made that single for purely commercial reasons. It’s designed to get people in a disco up and dancing. Period. But really, really smart, creative people can both thrill to that aspect of it and also get fantastic ideas from it. It’s the great thing about music. I was telling my students the other day [of] the way that something like Kraftwerk, which seemed about the whitest stuff ever done, could totally excite these kids in the South Bronx and really help create hip-hop. It’s the great fun and the great power of a creative act that, once you unleash it in the world, it can go anywhere and it can do anything. Whether that’s in The New York Times or that’s on the biggest label in the world or whether you put it up on YouTube or you’re blogging about it, that’s always true. It can find its audience—and not even whom you think its audience would be. It can find an audience that you never would’ve imagined for it.

And inspire other art.

Absolutely—inspire creativity of all kinds, and fun and excitement and new things. It’s just dizzying thinking about all that.

You’ve written about flying to Dublin to interview U2 or traveling to London to talk with Paul McCartney for an hour. What does being in the room with an artist provide you that a phone call wouldn’t?

I prefer to do interviews in person. I think there’s something you can do in that situation where you’re just looking directly at somebody; they’re just sitting there. They’re right in front of you. There are ways of reading them that can affect your line of questioning. It’s also harder for someone to look you in the eye and avoid what it is that you’re trying to ask them about. A resistant subject, say, is just easier to deal with in person. The phone just gives them too much advantage. It really takes kind of a will of steel to sit there in front of somebody and stonewall them. Not that these interviews are especially contentious; most of them aren’t. Still, there is a kind of resistance and people fall into their wraps, and that’s just harder to do when you’re there in front of somebody. Any case where you’ve traveled to do the piece and that kind of stuff, it’s also harder to really limit the time too much.

He can’t all of a sudden get a call, quote unquote.

Exactly. That said, I feel like people underestimate the possibilities of what the phone can be. For the 40th anniversary issue of Rolling Stone, I interviewed Paul McCartney; I did that interview over the phone. The magazine very reluctantly agreed to do that just because it was so late in the cycle. And McCartney, he wanted to do it; he didn’t want to do it. He was going to do it; he didn’t want to do it… Finally he agreed and there was no way to do it in person so we did it over the phone. I think that interview came out fine. There are things that you can do on the phone and for certain type of people it works. The degree of abstraction can work to your advantage. Like, for example, one of my favorite parts of [that] McCartney interview was [because] it was the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love… I said, “You were in the Beatles. It’s the Summer of Love. Sgt. Pepper’s just came out. What was that like?” In person he might have been a little glib, but over the phone he just kind of disappeared into that moment. He was quiet for a while. And he just said, “It was fantastic.” And he said it in a way that really conveyed it. And he just started going into it. I don’t know that I could’ve gotten that in person. The immediacy of the situation would’ve blocked his ability to do a little bit of time traveling.

I [also] did an interview with Eddie Vedder one time. We did the second half of it over the phone; he was much better over the phone. In person, he’s a little shy…very friendly and very gracious, even a little deferential. [He] was polite but not particularly informative. Over the phone, he was much better able to access his own feelings. He felt less like he was being interviewed and somehow the phone gave him the ability to disappear into himself a little bit and then to speak from that place. And that’s ultimately what you want, whether you’re in the room with the person or you’re interviewing them on the phone. You want them to be able to access something in themselves so that they’re not speaking from their head; they’re speaking from somewhere inside themselves. And you can make that work, depending on the person in either situation.

We’ve come upon the eighth anniversary of George Harrison’s passing. Did your first interview with him, in particular, have any profound effect on your perception of his music?

The hardest people to interview are the ones who made an impression on you as a kid. It’s difficult. I mean, as much as I admire Bono or Peter Buck [of R.E.M.], I was a grownup by the time I met those people and heard their music; I was kind of formed. I am who I am because of the Beatles. So, meeting [Harrison] was hard. It had a kind of surreality to it. It does to this day… I realized I was going to be in situations where you could just be overwhelmed by the emotions connected with your own experience. Sitting there with him, it was very hard to stay focused and do the work and get the interview done.

What I like about that interview is toward the end where he’s talking about his relationship to John Lennon, about a sense that if you can’t experience the spirit of a great friend who you loved deeply after he’s gone, what hope could you ever have of experiencing Jesus or Buddha or whoever it is that you’re interested in? That’s a kind of simple idea, but it’s really powerful. And it’s one that has stayed with me, that things don’t have to be lost. That moment where he just says—quoting Dylan as he did so often—“‘If your memory serves you well, we’re going to meet again.’ I believe that.” The degree of conviction and the degree to which those things were true to him became much more powerful for me, obviously, after he died. But their importance made an impression on me at the time and has for all these years since.


Blues & Chaos: The Music Writing of Robert Palmer edited by Anthony DeCurtis is published by Scribner, A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

In Other Words: Artists Talk About Life And Work by Anthony DeCurtis is published by Hal Leonard Corporation.

Rocking My Life Away: Writing About Music And Other Matters by Anthony DeCurtis is published by Duke University Press.

January 27, 2009

When McCartney Rocked the Record Shop

The first time I saw Paul McCartney in concert was in 1993 at the Citrus Bowl in Orlando. I was 16 and, despite my youth, I considered myself as much of a Beatles fan as anyone else in that packed, cavernous stadium. Seldom am I starstruck, but when McCartney took the stage, Hofner in hand, a flood of iconography and lore—British Invasion… Abbey Road… Ed Sullivan… Shea Stadium... Sgt. Pepper… Lennon… Liverpool… A Hard Day’s Night—crystallized in my mind in that one moment, represented by that one man. “There he is!” I yelled to no one in particular, utterly gobsmacked.

I can only imagine the euphoria felt by those crammed inside Amoeba Records in L.A. on June 27, 2007, rocking out as McCartney played within spitting distance of his own back catalog. Issued on CD and limited edition 12” vinyl, Amoeba’s Secret is this gig’s only officially available document. Sure, only four tracks appear on it—the set comprised 21 songs overall—but for fans who didn’t witness the performance firsthand (or snag a bootleg thereafter), this recording makes for a modest keepsake of rock ‘n’ roll’s ultimate in-store appearance. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!



March 07, 2008

DVD Review: Composing The Beatles Songbook: Lennon and McCartney 1957-1965

Given that no other popular music group has garnered as much critical and creative analysis as The Beatles, any new book or film release claiming to add substantive perspective to what’s already been documented should be regarded with relative skepticism. Or, at the minimum, a keen sense of discerning the validity in the presented material. In one of the latest critiques, a DVD entitled Composing The Beatles Songbook: Lennon and McCartney 1957 – 1965, the twentieth century’s most successful songwriting partnership is discussed and examined.

Much like the Under Review series of music documentaries, this film features commentary by journalists (including Anthony DeCurtis, Nigel Williamson, and Robert Christgau) and friends or associates of the subjects (including Barry Miles and Klaus Voorman). As well, archival clips of The Beatles complement the observations, but this is an unauthorized film so the footage is negligible. And though the title suggests that the content addresses matters as far back as 1957, the film only provides cursory (and otherwise well-known) information about the band’s formation, concentrating mostly on the period spanning With The Beatles and Rubber Soul.

In essence, the film summarizes the two principle songwriters’ working dynamic and how the partnership theoretically progressed from Lennon/McCartney to Lennon versus McCartney. The boldest contention made is that, in the band’s early years, the collaborators’ prime objective was to write “Beatles-sounding” music, not necessarily “John” or “Paul” songs. The panelists accordingly agree that on tracks like “Please Please Me” and “She Loves You,” Lennon and McCartney’s voices sound virtually synonymous. That logic only sustains so far, though, if one considers Lennon’s vocal on “This Boy” or McCartney’s singing on “I Saw Her Standing There,” both tracks from the band’s earliest era.

If you know your Beatles history (as only those with serious knowledge of the band will have the fortitude to watch this film), you’ll likely feel compelled to argue with some of the commentators. It’s not because they’re factually wrong or radically off base in their assessments; it’s simply because their opinions can often be refuted or discounted. For instance, hearing Robert Christgau explain why he prefers the Lennon-penned “Hard Days Night” to the McCartney-penned “Can’t Buy Me Love” doesn’t make me like the latter any less.

Overall, Composing The Beatles Songbook: Lennon and McCartney 1957 – 1965 gives Beatles fans a critical synopsis of information and stories that they probably already know some version of by heart. The film doesn’t offer much in the way of original or enlightening information, but those with sufficient knowledge of the band’s history will find it at least somewhat interesting.

February 29, 2008

DVD Review: Paul McCartney - Ecce Cor Meum

Paul McCartney does not know how to read or write formal music notation, which seems incomprehensible considering the song catalog accredited to his name. Even more unfathomable, though, is that on top of the hundreds of pop songs he’s written, he’s also composed three orchestral works without understanding the rules and methods of classical composition.

McCartney issued his most recent classical piece, a choral work entitled Ecce Cor Meum, on compact disc in September 2006. The work’s concert premiere, recorded in November of the same year at London’s Royal Albert Hall, now sees its release on digital videodisc.

Over an hour in its entirety, this live performance of Ecce Cor Meum illustrates that McCartney’s gift for melody is by no means exclusive to pop music. In an exquisite synergy of voice and instrument, this four-movement work melds the talents of soprano Kate Royal, three choirs, a pipe organist, and full orchestra into a cohesive piece of music. Countermelodies within the orchestra intertwine and offset distinct vocal lines from the choirs, the combined sound one of majestic power yet also gentle, almost solemn execution. Ms. Royal maintains an unassuming grace throughout, her exhilarating voice shining at the appropriate times while never distracting from the overall production. Most impressive, though, is how Ecce Cor Meum achieves an austere impression while being accessible to anyone unfamiliar with classical form.

In an accompanying documentary, “Creating Ecce Cor Meum,” McCartney discusses the origins and development of this choral work. Commissioned in the late 1990s, he’d barely commenced with the project before the death of Linda McCartney forced him into a solid year of creative inactivity and bereavement. Slowly returning to composing, McCartney wrote the somber yet lovely “Interlude (Lament),” which segues the second and third movements, as a tribute to his late wife. It’s with that spirit–an enduring sense of loss and love–that this entire work assumes its humble magnificence.

Towards the end of the live performance, a camera catches McCartney watching from the audience, looking pensive if not a bit melancholy. His daughter, Stella, sits at his side. It’s a moment of candid reflection, perhaps of all the work that’s coming to fruition on the stage, perhaps of memories that inspired this piece in the first place. Incidentally, Ecce Cor Meum translates in English to “Behold My Heart,” which, considering the context in that it was created, in knowing how McCartney has long relied more on emotion than formal or even logical technique to create music, such a title seems entirely appropriate.


December 30, 2007

Review: Paul McCartney - Memory Almost Full [Deluxe Edition]

As the initial artist signed to the Starbucks music label, Hear Music, Paul McCartney released Memory Almost Full this past June. Debuting at number three on the US album charts, it has since garnered three Grammy nominations. Now, reissued with a new DVD of recent concert footage and promotional videos, you can watch and listen to what the man says on the deluxe version of Memory Almost Full.

On his previous album, Chaos And Creation In The Backyard, McCartney exhibited a renewed concentration on his craft, the result of a disciplined approach to songwriting, performance, and production. On Memory Almost Full, he preserves much the same focus, yet his performances yield a bit more spontaneity and spunk. Tracks like “Only Mama Knows” and “Nod Your Head” rock and rumble with a youthful exuberance. “Dance Tonight” jangles to a catchy mandolin riff and foot-stomping beat. “That Was Me” bustles along to a playful melody. These are but a few examples why this effort not only stands as a solid McCartney album, but also as one of the year’s best.

The DVD included in this deluxe version does have its merits, but most of the material will appeal primarily to McCartney completists. Five performances, taped live at London’s Electric Ballroom in 2007 and which comprise four album cuts as well as “Drive My Car,” come off as superfluous. As good as it sounds, the visual presentation of selective songs lacks continuity and ultimately doesn’t translate well to video. A far superior concert recording of tracks from this album (as well as two classic Wings songs) can be found on the digital EP, iTunes Festival: London – Paul McCartney.

Rounding out the DVD are two promotional videos, for “Dance Tonight” and “Ever Present Past.” The surrealistic video for “Dance Tonight” features the ever-charming Natalie Portman, making this short film a delight to watch. The video for “Ever Present Past” shows McCartney clumsily dancing in a choreographed sequence among a troupe of female clones. He looks a bit silly and out of step, but perhaps that’s the point. He’s obviously not trying to emulate Baryshnikov with this routine.

For McCartney completists, this deluxe version of Memory Almost Full should complement your overflowing collection. However, for casual or curious fans, the bonus DVD doesn’t add much to what, on its own, is a splendid album.


September 09, 2007

Album Review: Ringo Starr - Photograph: The Very Best of Ringo Starr

Since The Beatles disbanded, Ringo Starr has sustained a respectable solo career, one that’s allowed the iconic drummer to call the shots and make music by his own accord. Much of the finest music he’s made comes together on the newly released retrospective, Photograph: The Very Best of Ringo Starr.

This solid compilation features twenty tracks, many of them bona fide hits, most of them instantly familiar. What this disc underscores, besides the songs themselves, is the quality of musicians that Starr worked with in making them, from his three former bandmates to the likes of Elton John, Billy Preston, and Eric Clapton.

Of all the artists that contributed to this music, none resonate as often or as profound as George Harrison. “Photograph” and “It Don’t Come Easy” rank as two of Starr’s most recognizable recordings, not least because of Harrison’s involvement in their creation, having co-written and produced the former while producing the latter. He also contributed the loose and bouncy track, “Wrack My Brain,” and produced the weird and wonderful smash, “Back Off Boogaloo”. Starr wrote the poignant song, “Never Without You,” which features Eric Clapton on guitar, in tribute to his departed friend.

During his “Lost Weekend,” John Lennon offered Starr two songs, “Goodnight Vienna” and the tongue-in-cheek humor of “I’m The Greatest,” which illustrates that Lennon was, perhaps, not quite as “lost” during this time as he’d claimed.

While Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr have collaborated on various projects ranging from McCartney’s Tug of War and Flaming Pie to Starr’s Vertical Man, his only appearance on this compilation comes on “You’re Sixteen (You’re Beautiful and You’re Mine)”.

Other highlights of this disc include the rollicking groove of “Oh, My My,” featuring Billy Preston on piano, and “Snookeroo,” an Elton John/Bernie Taupin composition on which the Rocket Man participated in recording.

Given his stature, it’s not surprising that Ringo Starr recruited such renowned artists with whom to make music. What’s impressive, though, is how well these songs have held up, and, moreover, how much fun it is to listen to them now.

In the liner notes, Starr offers commentary on what he remembers most about each track. While nothing jumps out as exclusive news or insight, what does come through is his lasting enjoyment of the music he’s created and covered, often with a little help from his friends.


August 26, 2007

Live At the 2007 iTunes Festival: Paul McCartney

For the love of Ringo, could iTunes please release the entire concert from which this outstanding EP came?

Recorded on July 5, 2007 at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London and available for purchase exclusively on iTunes, Live At The iTunes Festival: Paul McCartney spotlights four tracks from McCartney’s current album, Memory Almost Full, along with raucous versions of two classic solo tracks, “Coming Up” and “Jet”.

Armed with his full touring band, which consists of guitarists Brian Ray and Rusty Anderson, drummer Abe Laboriel, Jr., and keyboardist Paul “Wix” Wickens, McCartney sounds dynamic and invigorated in this intimate venue, which only holds 350 guests.

Loud and rambunctious, “Only Mama Knows,” arguably the best song on this collection, begins with an incongruous string arrangement, then plunges full-throttle into a rock song complete with a epitomic McCartney melody in the chorus.

“That Was Me,” an obvious allusion to his Liverpool adolescence and adventures with The Beatles, stomps along with a rollicking velocity. No longer “sweating cobwebs under contract,” as the song says, McCartney sounds as buoyant as he did at the height of Beatlemania.

Speaking of which, do you remember how McCartney’s throaty voice tore through early Beatles singles like “I’m Down” and “Long Tall Sally”? Remarkably, he has revived that rasp for “Nod Your Head,” a dizzy chunk of rock & roll that, before too long, has the listener doing exactly what the title instructs.

On the compilation’s most subdued track, McCartney dedicates “House Of Wax” to “every right-minded person in the whole world,” which gives the song’s abstract lyrics a more concentrated, social significance. One gets the impression that he’s not just playing with words when he sings, “Lightning hits the house of wax/Poets spill out on the street/To set alight the incomplete/Remainders of the future”.

Enjoyable versions of “Coming Up” and “Jet” fill in the EP, which may not offer anything drastically new if you already own either of the two live McCartney albums (Tripping The Live Fantastic and Back In The U.S.) that feature both songs. However, hearing these tracks in this intimate setting does add a certain context to the event.

The full show included choice Beatles cuts like “I’ll Follow The Sun,” “I’ve Got A Feeling,” and “Get Back,” along with a smattering of McCartney solo material. Thus, if the selected tracks that comprise Live At The iTunes Festival: Paul McCartney sound this phenomenal, one can only hope that the online retailer will inevitably release the entire performance.