Album Reviews

Paul McCartney still has an unerring ear for a good melody. That’s something even his most severest critics can’t take away from him.



He’s made his share of crap, but on the other side, well, nothing needs be said. That doesn’t mean he should be cut some slack when he chooses to issue more crap, or that you should consume it because you’re a fan of his greatness.


Paul McCartney still has an unerring ear for a good melody. That’s something even his most severest critics can’t take away from him.

He’s made his share of crap, but on the other side, well, nothing needs be said. That doesn’t mean he should be cut some slack when he chooses to issue more crap, or that you should consume it because you’re a fan of his greatness.

The Nigel Godrich produced Chaos And Creation In The Backyard (http://www.musicangle.com/album.php?id=377) was one of Sir Paul’s finest efforts of this, or any of his many eras. Any Beatles fan who missed that one, is missing something really fine.

This McCartney effort was apparently underway and temporarily abandoned in favor of the Godrich project. When finally released, Memory Almost Full was dismissed by many as inferior to Chaos… and therefore unworthy of your attention.

Yes, it’s less like Chaos... and more like a Wings album, filled with a great deal that's popcorn, but beneath the melodic fluff is a nostalgic, thoughtful McCartney who’s produced a set of likeable, occasionally deep and sometimes incomprehensible tunes. That’s my opinion and I’m not going to change it.

The album title tells you that Sir Paul’s dealing with and acknowledging his age, while attempting to remain young in spirit and in music.

The opener takes a simple thought (“Everybody gonna dance tonight”), endlessly loops it lyrically and sets it to a catchy, folky tune simply and rustically arranged. It’s a trifle, but it will make you feel good while making you look back. Memory almost full.

“Ever Present Past,” a tight-hooked song with a Wings-like melody and arrangement, deals with the conflict between the desire to continue discovery so attractive and unavoidable in one’s youth and the inescapable “paper trail” of time that someone who’s post 64 can’t deny, that colors the search with well-seasoned experience. “Searching for the time that has gone so fast/The time that I thought would last/My ever present past.”

“See Your Sunshine” is a sweet love song that has creepy connotations in a post Heather Mills world so it’s best to not personalize it, or better, think of Linda when you listen. It’s a tune the John lovers and Paul detractors won’t like. Ditto “Gratitude.”

There’s an odd rocker sung from the point of view of an abandoned baby abandoned “..in the transit lounge/Of a dirty airport town…” and a song about “Vintage Clothes” that does for old rags what Ringo did for old photos, though rather than being nostalgic, McCartney optimistically suggests that “What went out is coming back.”

McCartney fills the rest of the album mostly with fine reminiscences and throw away trifles, one of the high points being “That Was Me,” a hard bit of nostalgia any aging boomer going through childhood photos and seeing a barely recognizable self can relate to, though in McCartney’s situation there’s a certain intensity most of us can hardly imagine: “Well that was me/Royal Iris/On the river/Merseybeatin’/With the band/That was me…” The unrelenting beat spits out the time.

There’s also a “what’s it all about” overreach called “House of Wax” that goes to a place that’s well outside of Sir Paul’s comfort zone.

The production and programming by David Kahne (The Bangles, Fishbone, Tony Bennett [Unplugged]) is not as in tune with my personal sonic tastes as was what Nigel Godrich did last time out. Kahne goes for ultra-close miking and lots of compression and an “in your face” tonal balance, though it’s skillfully done to avoid the repellent ultra-harsh tonality that this flavor often yields.

The mastering credit goes to Bob Ludwig with the vinyl cut by Kevin Gray at AcousTech so you can bet it’s sourced from a digital file, perhaps higher rez than CD. Still, if you’re a Paul fan it’s worth getting on 180g vinyl for the swell packaging: a single piece of stiff board folded into six panels that formthe triple gatefold package. The cover features a drawing of an almost black armchair, but if you look carefully you’ll see on it hearts and other hand drawn forms. Inside is a photo of some vintage toys and a framed shot of the chair with the same drawn hearts and other forms.

On the opposite panel, in a black and white photo, is an uncomfortable-looking McCartney, his buttoned sport jacket about to pop, sitting on the edge of the real armchair (with patterned fabric but not like the drawn on one), looking as if he’s about to stand up in his Converse sneakers. Open the triple gatefold and in the center panel are the same toys but minus the framed armchair.

On the left panel McCartney is crouched, mostly hidden off to one side of the chair. The back panel has the drawn chair, but this time it’s black with none of the pattern visible. Unfold completely and there’s a giant, bigger than a poster sized McCartney, reclining in the chair with his butt hanging in space over the chair edge, his Conversed feet crossed.

My take? The old toys are his youth. The chair is old age and retirement. McCartney’s poses in and around the chair are child-like, the way a kid might “sit” in the chair. Memory almost full, but not quite!

No, it’s not a perfect album and it’s not even a great album, but it’s a good one from Sir Paul, with some tunes that will touch you if you are or have ever been a fan. The guy’s made our lives so much richer and more pleasant to live. Why would you want to abandon him now? Buy it and not out of sympathy, because he doesn’t need it and the record’s much better than that. Be a fan, not a cynic or an old fogey.