(REVIEW) PAUL MCCARTNEY McCartney (1970)

Carlos Frederico Pereira da Silva Gama

Jun 28, 2010 (Updated Oct 5, 2015)
Originally released on Epinions.com

Paul McCartneys eponymous debut preceded the last Beatles release by 19 days. This
provided the last stroke in the band's break-up circa 1970.
The dream was over. What an event.
Paul deconstructed the Beatles to find a new voice. In the process, he indulged in sparse
experimentation. In addition, sometimes, he mimicked his (old and new) pals.
1970's McCartney, a hodgepodge comprising Beatles leftovers and rough home tapes, is
impressive as a solo effort (he plays everything apart from Linda McCartney's backings).
Nevertheless, it seems uneventful as a recording.
Boundary crossing may entail respect for difference and ambiguity; it may also rigidify old
mores.

Pauls first affair underlies a fascinating roaming around his 1970 aesthetic boundaries. On the
one hand, stubbornly accommodating his populist tropes. On the other hand, sprung for
uncharted possibilities, public scrutiny put aside.
All-too-brief assemblage of sketches, McCartney exists as its time goes by. Sometimes too
mature for its own good, other times sunset precedes sunrise.
The Lovely Linda the first McCartney solo statement sees the man far from fighting the
Beatles legacy, rather undermining the popular judgment of those Let It Be's sketches as John
Lennon jokes. McCartney adopts the same jokey approach, enunciating his acoustic love for
flowery haired Linda. Sketches for his sweetheart.
That Would Be Something the best title in McCartney's long career? A long acoustic sketch
rallying around the "that would be something/reaching the falling rain" verse, McCartney's
sullenness betraying the vocal impromptu. Sad clown in a disquieting note: did not the man
have something astounding reserved for the Beatles demise?
Valentine Day a voiceless Soul vignette? As McCartney sounds less a record more a demo,
one gets the impression that an all-instrumental approach would be good. McCartney playing
guitars, drums, bass and the sorts do we really have to listen to what the man says? Suddenly
it's all off.
A jack of many trades in the Beatles, Paul dilutes his energies all over McCartney. In Every
Night he fights for lasting effects with his then-own impatient ethos. A gorgeous ringing melody
and once in his lifetime the man sounds like it's funny to have a solo career...After all.
Hot as Sun-Glasses confirms the assemblage of Abbey Road McCartney sketches erupting
triumphantly at the mixing board. If one needs some evidence that the man was in a severe
writer's block, take it by this two-pronged vignette a bopping number he wrote back in 1959
meets proto-Ambient, random babble attached.
Prematurely old, sad as a distant whisper Junk, a Beatles leftover from "The White Album",
fits better here in McCartney. Brief, stark, vulnerable in its dynamics the great finished demo
for the readymade solo career. Aching, wistful melodies hold Linda's backing sparingly high.
Not so good for them, OK for him.
Man We Was Lonely (a vague-Merseybeat rhythm intersected with loony slide guitars as
McCartney replicates his early 1960s accents) breaks down the coming to terms with the
Beatles, coming across as a meta-McCartney bricolage. Turning the title on its head the man
finds comfort with panache through good and old...Isolation.
A straight parody of John Lennon's straightforward Rock N'Roll numbers, Oo You ("Youk o"?)
sharpened his break with near-past bandmates. Loose cannon guitar riffs barely hide selfreferential lyrics "sing like a blackbird" and not-that-hermetic send-ups "look like a woman/dress
like a lady/tall like a baby". "Eat like a hunger" c'mon

Momma Miss America is a forward-thinking McCartney instrumental interlude. Prominent

percussion (Why Don't We Do It in the Road) becomes excuse for a Technicolor piano odyssey
then bluesy Hard Rock, McCartney the guitarist. In its time, the track was overlooked. Only in
the 1990s it would become a cult item.
Almost a Beatles song by default, Teddy Boy is rendered an Oedipal account. The ascension
from estranged child to Teddy Boy is a brief, startling proof of McCartneys ingenuity in
storytelling deceptively cast in aural mellowness. Bare-bones acoustics represent as well as
denounce the transition from beloved child to disenfranchisement.
Singalong Junk is an instrumental version of Junk - reminding you of the Band of Horses and,
well, R.E.M. A great song is a great song no matter how you sing along - out of almost nothing
McCartney scores a pretty goal. The difference? Paul's voice was note-perfect for the
melancholic setting.
Rolling an oceanic sprawl, Maybe I'm Amazed impresses. Doubt, amusement, loveliness, those
few McCartney's qualities, meet straightforward statements in dynamic, anthemic fashion. Let
it Be in reverse - despite uncertainties, bringing "it" forth, hearts and groins (wondrous yells).
Did McCartney secretly envy Santana? That's the impression of Helter Skelter-meets-World
Music Kreen-Akrore (a Brazilian native people). Sparse percussion, Native chants, randomly
mixed with guitar solos. Intensely superficial, McCartney seems to drag Progressive Rock's tail
around his volatile muse. This interlude-coda breaks McCartney's component of memory,
engaging some futurity. See ya.

Tracklist:
* * 1/2
***
* * * 1/2
****
***
*****
* * * 1/2
****
* * * 1/2
* * * * 1/2
****
*****
***

The Lovely Linda

That Would Be Something
Valentine Day
Every Night
Hot as Sun-Glasses
Junk
Man We Was Lonely
Momma Miss America
Oo You
Teddy Boy
Singalong Junk
Maybe I'm Amazed
Kreen-Akrore