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Non-Album Recordings Part #1: 1970
Released as Paul's debut solo single at
the peak of the Beatles' troubles, Lennon laughed his head off when [13] 'Another Day' came out - a
song that couldn't be less like his own recent autobiographical songs like
'Cold Turkey' and 'Working Class Hero'. His claim that he was the band's real
genius and that Paul only wrote boring imaginary songs about imaginary
characters seemed to have been re-enforced by the bored career woman at the
centre of 'Another Day' (its the song Lenon quoted in his Paul-baiting piece
'How Do You Sleep?' as being particularly false: 'The only thing you did was
'Yesterday' and since you're gone you're just 'Another Day'). However the character
in this song isn't that imaginary - like 'Lady Madona' its a McCartney tribute
to women who juggled careers and babies with aplomb and was almsot certainly
written with Linda in mind. The cleverness of the song is that the chorus
manages to be uplifting and jolly - what you'd expect from a McCartney single -
but cleverly strips away all this facade in the middle eight (there is no
chorus as such, the repeats of the title phrase being tacked onto the end of
the verse). 'So sad...sometimes she feels so sad' Paul sighs, 'Alone in her
apartment she cried...', the only chance of happiness out of all this enforced
gloom the chance of expectation of a date, who 'comes and he stays - but he
leaves the next day!', the melody's rise and fall over these lines emphasising
just what a rollercoaster ride of passion this is. Paul then cleverly gives the
listener or his character any time to reflect on what's just happened: she has
to be at the office the next morning and suddenly we're off again, on 'another
day'. The effect is less successful when the trick is repeated almost
immediately, but it's a very clever idea - her workforce might see as calm and
professinal but outside office hours she's just another sad lonely city girl
trying to get by. Possibly written by Paul as a 'calculated' start to kick off
his solo career (he often looks back to 'Yesterday' for inspiration, with both
this song and 'Tomorrow' seemingly inspired by the idea of looking forward
instead of back), it's actually a very strong start and remains one of his most
unfairly neglected singles, catchy but deep just how like them. The last laugh
is on Lennon: 'Another Day' has dated better and is more palatable than 'Cold
Turkey' and in its own way is as moving and expressive as any of that first
'Lennon/Plastic Ono Band' album. Paul expresses his soul without the need to
scream, that's all. Find it on: 'Wings Greatest'
(1978) 'All The Best' (1987) and 'Wingspan' (1999) plus the CD re-issues of
'McCartney'
Evidence that Paul wouldn't just be a
balladeer as Lennon often sneered came as early as Another Dat's flipside [14] 'Oh Woman Oh Why?' A noisy,
disjointed rocker, it's an early example of Paul playing everything, layering
lots of guitar parts on top of a steady drum pattern, topped with his best
screaming vocal since 'Helter Skelter' (his last attamept at this style, 'Oh
Darling!, never really took off). The lyrics are typical B-side fare (ie
they're simple and probably took about five minuets to write - 'I met her at
the bottom of a well, I told her I was trying to break a spell') but they do
their job in telling the story of a relationship gone wrong. At one point the
narrator's missus even grabs a gun, a pistol shot used as part of the backing
track (and punctuating the 'bam bam' hook of the song). The result is one of
the better examples of Paul's loose and gritty style, based around a fiery riff
and with just the right hint of malice. Linda's backing vocals - among her
first recorded alongside her husband - are pretty nifty too, adding a harder
edge to this song's funky backbeat. Find it on: the
CD re-issues of 'McCartney'
Originally heard as just a snatch buried
away at the end of 'Hot As Sun', Mccartney originally head loftier albitions
for his piano ballad [15] 'Suicide'.
Hearing that Frank Sinatra was in town and looking for a song Paul decided to
send him one and thought he'd write a song towards the sadder, bluesier end of
the crooner spectrum. Unfortunately somewhere along the way that characteristic
'McCartney' smile got in the way and instead of a tearjerker about a couple
meant for each other falling apart it turned into a cheesy variety act. Paul's
demo even includes him doing his best Sinatra impression, which reporedtedly
didn't go down too well (perhaps it was Paul revenge for ol' blue eyes calling
George's 'Something' the 'greatest Lennon/McCartney song of all time'?!) Still,
he had to do something - the song is really a verse leading up to a cheery
chorus and lacks McCarrtney's customary roundedness. Arguably, though,
McCartney didn't need to that. Sensing he was on to a loser, he apologetically
performed it for the other Beatles in the 'Let It Be' days, hamming it up for
laughs when he realises they're not taking it seriously. The result is a sad
lapse and a rare rotten apple from an otherwise excellent period in McCartney's
writing. The full length version released on the deluxe edition of McCartney reveals
that the snatch we've heard for decades was actuallyt the intro, followed by
some lengthy dah-dah -dah-ing, as if to disguise how little of the song is
really here. Career sucicide indeed had this strange song been released,
although fans have rather a soft spot for this silly song given its period in
history and McCartney's good grace not to inflict it on us the first time
round. Find it on: the deluxe edition re-issue of
'McCartney'
More forgivable but equally wretched is
McCartney trying to follow Yoko's lead by getting into feminism. Alas [16] 'Woman Kind' is no 'Lady
Madonna' (Paul's earlier tribute song to the single working mother) and it's
certainly no 'Women Is The Nigger In The World'. Instead women have a 'terrible
time' because 'from the age of ten they're chased by men'. Paul then urges his
colleagues to 'burn your bras' as 'the men will come when the time is right'.
However the effect is rather undone by Paul's variety of silly voices, which
range from received pronunciation to girly screams and bass profundo comedy
voices, the song ending with a cheery music hall raspberry. 'Thankyou Hank'
grins Paul at the end, in deference to country singer Hank Williams, although
this song is actually pure English music hall and the sort of thing a
generational were oh so grateful to The Beatles for destroying. Another odd
lapse from an artist who was otherwise on the top of his game, sensibly removed
from the 'McCartney' running order early on. Find it
on: the deluxe edition re-issue of 'McCartney'
[8b] 'Don't Cry Baby', the other rarity added to
'McCartney', is actually just the backing track to 'Oo You' and re-named after
the howl of poor baby Mary, trying to sleep while her dad makes all this
racket. 'Don't cry baby' Paul coos, 'Daddy's going to play you a lullaby'.
However this chiming, angry, angular rocker is far from a lullaby and 'Oo You'
sounds like a much more impressive gutsy rocker without the silly words
attached to dilute the impact. Paul should have kept to his original plan
instead of worrying about the instrumentals on the album and adding a vocal on
during the late stages of the album (now 'Valentine's Day', there's an instrumental
ripe for some lyrics...) Find it on: the deluxe
edition re-issue of 'McCartney'
Non-Album Recordings Part #2: 1971
I'm so thrilled to be able to discuss
[28] 'A Love For You' openly at last. Recorded as part of
'Ram' but better known to bootleggers as the opening - and best - song from
Paul's 1979 compilation of outtakes
'Cold Cuts' (abandoned when a copy first leaked out on illegally), it's
taken a staggering 40 years for this lovely track to see the light of day (as
part of the 'Ram' deluxe set). We chose this as our 'song of the year' 2011 for
a reason, despite the song being so old: it's a lovely example of just how
catchy and pretty Pauk's songs can be. Compared to 'Ram' this is simpler and
funkier than any of the more polished songs that made the album (perhaps that's
why Paul didn't release it?) and a neat template for what he'll do with early
Wings: rock and roll that isn't too loud or hard (this will change by the Jimmy
McCulloch/Joe English line-up). A great call-and-answer riff blends several
sections together with consummate ease, the band have fun getting increasingly
looser towards the end and while the results aren't as sophisticated as some
later McCartney songs few others possess quite such a winning combination of
its author's customary bounce and enthusiasm. Baby baby baby baby baby baby I
really have a love for 'A Love For You', yeah! Find
it on: the deluxe re-issue of 'Ram'
A charming song left off 'Ram' because
the critics would have murdered it and Paul had had enough of that already,
[29] 'Hey Diddle' is
another outtake originally intended for 'Cold Cuts' that's again a lovely song
that deserved a release somewhere, if not quite there. It's very early 'Wings'
despite the band not existing yet, with a cosy informal feel and daft lyrics
that somehow merge a love song for Linda with a childish nonsense rhyme clearly
written to amuse the children. It's a lot better than sequel 'Bip Bop' though,
with a lovely rolling acoustic riff and it veers off into lots of fascinating
avenues to explore as it merrily bounces down the road. The unexpected middle
eight, which seems to play the song in reverse, is particularly lovely ('I
wouldn't make her wooden table...') and Paul and Linda sound gloriously
together on this song. Paul was probably right not to release this on 'Ram' -
even without worrying about the critics its too soft and cosy for Macca's
hardest-edged and most aggressive album - but all these years on 'Hey Diddle'
sounds charming. However the original 1979 Cold Cuts mix is better than the
version which did finally see the light of day, which tries too hard to be
'weird', with half-hidden vocals and extreme left-to-rights on the stereo
spectrum (Paul nicknames it the Dixon Van Winkle Mix on the Ram sleevenotes,
which is funny but not very helpful). An additional version, with Paul playing
on his acoustic while Linda tries to sing along and both are interrupted by
their laughing giggling children, can be seen as part of the 'home movies'
footage on the 'Wingspan' documentary and also ended up becoming the sole
rarity on the CD. Again it's sweet, but not that serious and not all that
essential - not worth forking out £15 or so for anyway! Find the studio take on the deluxe edition of 'Ram' and the 'live in
McCartney's garden' version on 'Wingspan' (1999)
[30] 'Rode All Night' couldn't be more different, a noisy
thrash-metal jam between Paul and drummer Denny Seiwell that was clearly played
to let off steam (though the sleevenotes in the otherwise explicit 'Ram' set
don't say anything, it's tempting to inagine this jam taking place the night of
a business meeting at Apple or after
reading some snide Lennon comment in the press). Macca has found an inventive
guitar groove, which sounds more like a Pete Townshend riff, and hacks away at
it whiole a chord sequence slowly falls into place. Next come the lyrics,
apparently improvised off the top of McCartney's head, and they're a
fascinating insight into how his brain works. 'I don't feel it, don't feel so
bad anymore!' he sings with typical McCartney optimism. But then comes the
twist: he's feeling good because he's been working hard, he's 'Rode all night
till I finally hit the daybreak!' and as Macca sings about his workaholic
tendencies - so different to the bed-ridden depression/lethargy of 'McCartney'
- he both comes alive and starts to sound scary. 'The sun come up - I'm left
with a casket love!' The riff gathers pace, the thrash solos become louder and
wilder and McCartney pitches his vocal somewhere just further outside his
comfort zone each time. This isn't a man who doesn't feel so bad anymore at all
- this is a man whose desperate and is pushing himself way past the point of
collapse precisely because he does feel so bad he has to prove something. The
song even comes to a natural full ending at six minutes but Macca is too far gone
into his groove and starts hitting into the song madder than ever, with Denny
doing a good job at trying to keep up with the new ridiculous pace. A
fascinating glimpse into how McCartney puts songs together, half of this song
had appeared on bootleg previously to the 'Ram' set but even bootleggers had
figures the full nine minute version a bit too intense for public consumption.
Mischevously, McCartney didn't seem to care and left this jam intact, one of
the hardest-going and yet rewarding moments in the McCartney canon. Find it on: the deluxe re-issue of 'Ram'
Non-Album Recordings Part #3: 1972
Everyone seems to like sneering at [39] 'Give Ireland Back To The Irish'
, a rare piece of political invective from McCartney during his solo years and
written after seeing horrifying news reports of the 'Bloody Sunday' riots of
1972. The song seemed to please nobody:
the English refused to play it (Top Of The Pops couldm't even mention it by
name, calling it instead 'the latest by Wings') and the title alone stirred up
a lot of fans who resented McCartrney dictating political policy. The Irish,
meanwhile, hated the way that Macca's usual need to please everybody (don't
knock it - it's anendearing trait) meant that he calls Great Britain
'tremendous - as nobody knows like me'. Most fans simply complained that this
simply wasn't a very good song. But I like this track a lot - Paul has as much
right to sound his mouth off as Lennon and there's more guts and creativity in
this song than his ex-partners' offerings ('Sunday Bloody Sunday' and 'Luck Of
The Irish', both from the 'Sometime In New York City' record which Lennon
didn't even release as a single - perhaps fearing the consequences). Liverpool
has strong links with Ireland, being effectively the nearest part of England to
that country (Lennon was particularly proud of his Irish name) and Paul is
simply doing what he always did with The Beatles - reflecting the world as he
saw it. From the start he seems to have intended to make his political leanings
brutally clear - while Lennon was merely commenting on events, here McCartney
is offering opinion. His complaint - that there is no difference between us so
neither should be controlling the other - may be politically naive but it's
also patently true (once again the people in the street paying for the ;crimes'
of the people in charge). The song's retro feel is pretty good too, hard and
heavy, as if this return to the 'bad old days' of Paul's youth has made the
writer think about the songs he was listening to last time the 'Irish troubles'
were on the news. The riff is a strong one though, tough and uncompromising but
still ever so polite - a very McCartrney response. Paul has since said that one
of his favourite moments was when a fan sidled up to him and whispered 'thankyou'
not for writing 'Yesterday' 'Hey Jude' or 'Mull of Kintyre' but for making this
song, at a time when most writers were prepared to look the other way.The
result isn't as pretty as most McCartney songs and probably not as clever, but
it's one of the bravest things Macca ever did and just about gets away with
some dodgy lines thanks to a heartfelt impassioned vocal and one of Wings'
tightest backing tracks. The band's single career is off to a flying start,
with more controversy to come (who'd have guessed that McCartney would have a
song banned by the BBC before Lennon?!) Less interesting - and currently
officially unavailable on CD - is the B-side, a 'kakaroke' version of the
A-side, which far from ehnacing what a tough rocker this is simply show us up
how scruffy some of the criss-crossing guitar parts are. Find it on: well not a lot at the current moment. to be
honest. The A-side used to be around on 'The McCartney Collection' CD re-issue
of 'Wildlife', but that's going back a bit now, while the B-side hasn't been
re-released in the digital age at all!
If you thought 'Give The Ireland' was
slaughtered by critics, then that was nothing on [40] 'Mary Had A Little Lamb', the - err -
unexpected follow-up Wings sequel. Many people naturally assumed that Paul was
making a statement or playing things so safe that the BBC wouldn't possibly ban
this single; actually it was just yet more evidence of Paul's Gemini
multiple-directions brain in action. Paul and Linda spent far more time with
their children than most rockstar mums and dads and Paul was often writing when
they were around. Clearly songs like 'Hi Hi Hi' had to be written when the
children were in bed, but occasionally his cosier daytime songs found release
too. This sweet but rather gormless version of the famous nursery rhyme was
busked by Paul to keep his now three-year-old daughter Mary amused with a tale
of another girl with the same name who liked animals. Paul was pleased with the
silly melody he came up with - as she should be; with its charming 'la la las'
and the first chance to hear the growing
McCartney brood on tape its all loving and informal and excatly what the
early Wings were all about. Paul even thought the song was so good it would do
really well as a single - which is where somebody should have stopped him.
'Mary' is a pleasing B-side, a bit of light-hearted fluff played between the
heavier songs (it might have been good given to Ringo even), but its not a
single and certainly shouldn't have been a single for a band in disarray after their
'heavy' first song got banned. After all, so soon on the heels of the last
single and with another close after it Wings really didn't need to release a
single at all at this stage. This is the point in time when Paul, more than
ever, needed John to stop him looking foolish (you could say the same vice
versa, actually, given that Lennon had gone too far in the oposite direction
with 'Sometime In New York City'). Find it on: Another relative rairity in the McCartney
catalogue - the song did peak at an still impressive UK high of #9 after all -
the song can currently only be found on the twenty-year-old 'McCartney
Collection' re-issue of 'Wildlife'.
A fun but slight flipside, [41] 'Little Woman Love' was more
grist to the mill of critics who claimed that McCartney could only do light
songs (they clearly hadn't been listening to 'Give Ireland Back To The Irish'
properly!) Cute but fairly forgettable, it features such disparate sections as
the repeated rhyme of 'love' and 'glove', a clever piano riff and a strange 'oh
yeah oh yeah uh huh huh huh' middle eight that sounds like it's come from a
JamesBrown record. A strong performance from Wings (which basically consists of
lots of Pauls and Denny Seiwelll on drums) half-salvages the under-par song,
although even then Macca's vocal is just that little bit too smug and full of
itself (his half-chuckle at the daftness of the words is quite endearing
though). Find it on: the McCartney Collection
re-issue of 'Wildlife'
More controversy next: [42] 'Hi Hi Hi' was a knees-up ode
to sex drugs and rock and roll built for playing on tour and based around a
slinky guitar riff that may well have been a direct response to Lennon's
repeated criticisms of his lightweight songs. The song would have been
forgotten as a relatively minor song in Macca's career had it not been for the
BBC's mis-reading of the lyric sheet and the surreal tongue-in-cheek rhyme: 'I
want you to lie on my bed getting ready for my polygon', which they mistook for
'body gun'. However this surely is a misnomer - McCartney must have known he
was swimming in dangerous waters from the title alone (shortening the drug
phrase 'high' - so common even BBC censors knew it - to 'hi' wasn't fooling
anyone). This song seems designed deliberately to provoke and see what he could
get away with, perhaps enhancing his reputation as best he could after 'Mary
Had A Little Lamb' (seen as example of Paul losing the plot, its actually
another example of his Gemini personality with a finger in lots of pies at
once). What's a shame is that behind all the controversy and increasingly
desperately outrageous lyrics ('Gonna do you sweet banana like you've never
been done!' - seriously Madonna would have raised eveybrows with a lyrric like
this), there's a good song here: the opening line 'When I met you you were
standing with a bootleg in your hand' is a great beginning to any song;the line
'Take off your face, recover from the trip yoiu've been on!, returning to the
scene of 'Eleanor Rigby' with the 'face that she keeps by the jar' and the
funky four-in-the-bar blues riff are all great ideas. It's just a shame that
Paul listened so hard to critics and ended up trying so hard to grow up that
the end result seems rather childish. Find it on:
the 'McCartney Collection' re-issue of 'Red Rose Speedway'
Generally speaking the whimsical,
dottier side of McCartney's writing style gets a bit of a kicking. For every
'Eleanor Rigby', full of pathos and layers, for every 'Hey Jude' full of uplift
and hope, for every 'Maybe I'm Amazed' full of authenticity and love there's a
gormless 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' coming down upon our heads that makes you
wonder why you ever became a McCartney collector in the first place. [43] 'C Moon' is a rare case of
McCartney controlling his humour to write a half-decent song, one that manages
to make an important point about generational gaps while featuring xylophone
solos and gibberish goonish solos. Actually, take that back - we've spent so
long being told that these lyrics are gibberish that its easy to lose sight
that, at the time, they did mean something (well sort of). Perhaps formed out
of a conversation teaching Mary and Stella about shapes, Paul relates how a
'half moon' and a 'C' combined together look like a circle - and circles are
associated with things that are happy and smiling (unless its a custard pie
being thrown at you or a Spice Girls album on vinyl). Anyway moons and circles
are cool (maybe 'C's are too, who knows). By contrast a 'square' is something
'bad' - its someone who isn't 'hip' and is the opposite of cool. A 'square' is
formed by the letter 'L' and the number '7'. Get hip, cats and kittens, don't
get left behind. However somewhere along the way this silly song with its
jovial nursery rhyme chorus changed tack. The narrator isn't that far out of
learning shapes and letters himself but the teenager is already thrown in at
the deep end, trying to cope with a girl he doesn't know how to ask out and
parents that just don't get it, man. With Heather now about to turn eleven,
Paul may have been imagining his children's own teenage years and wondering if
they'll be like his own, perhaps mixed in with a bit of healthy worry that he's
a parent now and he can't be as hip as he used to think he was. 'C Moon' starts
off like Edward Lear but ends up like 'Don't Look Back In Earnest', a song
about Bobby and Patty shacking up together and worrying that their folks don't
get what their relationship is 'all about' or how each generation is doomed
never to understand the 'next one down' because that's just how the world works
(what's the point of doing what your parents did, even if they were in the
Beatles? The reason so many people look back fondly on other people's
childhoods - eben if they're having a terrible time - is that they aren't
defined yet, with a chance to do anything and be anyone. This song sounds like
the thought just occurring to Paul that one day the choldren he's teaching to
make circles and squares might be having a better time than him as an adult,
while they won't be able to teach him anything in return because he'll be too
stuck in his ways). Though dismissed as more cosy nonsense, there's a slight
frisson of danger and guilt that makes this song just dark enough to get away
with its borderline-banal chorus and unsophisticated charm. Paul even
deliberately messes up the first line, as if to emphasise the freedom of
playing with words in the song. Though Lennon never commented on this song you
could probably take that as being that actually he was quite impressed by this
oiece, so close to his own word association style (given that he took great
delight in kicking the last two!) Wings no doubt only ever meant this song as a
fan-friendly flipside anyway until circumstances intervened and 'Hi Hi Hi' got
banned, leading to radio stations turning the single over (it was credited as a
'double 'A' side and peaked at #5, although I'll bet my Rupert The Bear scarf
that more people bought it to hear 'C Moon'). Though different in every
conceivable way, it could be argued that 'C Moon' had the edge over its older,
more adult brother anyway, proof that McCartney shouldn't ignore the whimsy
that comes so naturally to him all the time. Find it
on: 'All The Best' (1987) and 'Wingspan' (1999) plus the 'McCartney Collection'
re-issue of 'Red Rose Speedway'
I still find it hard to believe that
thje gorgeous [44] 'Mama's
Little Girl' - perhaps the single best recording Wings made in 1972 -
had to wait until Paul needed a B-side in a hurry in 1991 before finding an
'official' release. Recorded as part of 'Wildlife' and for a time mooted for
inclusion on 'Red Rose Speedway' when that record was intended as a double
album set, in truth it doesn't fit either song very well: it's too cute for the
rawer edge of the former and too understated for the whacking productions of
the latter. It makes a lovely counterpart to the similarly acoustic A-side 'Put
It There', though, accounting for one of Paul's better A and B side
combinations. Written for daughter Mary (born 1969 and now a three-year old),
Paul is still overblown by the birth of his first-born, 'taking some time for
this heart of mine because my eyes can't take it all in'. Like a third person
'Mother Nature's Son' Paul is amazed at her ability to already commune with the
natural world the way her parents do, looking like a rag doll and singing like
a sky-lark, exactly like Paul has always dreamed his children would look. A
haunting melody is full of fatherly pride and a fun 'Bip bop' style nursery
playtime feel, while Wings' backing vocals are superb, with understandably
LInda but also Denny Laine sounding like proud parents (from what I've read
Denny was very close to all the McCartney children and his own songs from later
in Wings' career often centre on children despite the fact he didn't have any
of his own). All in all, a gorgeous song that fully deserved a wider audience. Find it on: the CD single 'Put It There' (1990)
Non-Album Recordings Part #4: 1973
One of Paul's better B-sides, the rather
forgotten [54] 'The Mess'
was originally intended for the fourth side of 'Red Rose and Speedway' back
when the album was a double-set. Part of a mini-concert, this track would have
kicked off the side with a typically McCartney blend of the inspired and tired.
On the plus side the song's knockout stop-start riff makes Led Zeppelin look
like amateaurs, Henry McCullough gets a rare chance to shine with a great rock
and roll style solo and there's a marbvellous middle eight that drops all the
rock and roll posturing for a slower, tenser cat-and-mouse feel that's
particularly effective.The almost choral cascading Wings harmonies which link the
two very different sections together is also beautiful, turning a simple rocker
into something else entirely. On the negative side the lyrics aren't the best:
'I spoke to Jimmy with the big tattoo' is the kind of blocked in
first-thing-that-came-into-my-head lyrics Paul seems to have always been using
in this period and we never get to the bottom of why the narrator is in 'the
mess' he's in. I'd love to have heard a studio version of this song with the
odd mistake ironed out, but then again this performance is one of the strongest
by the early line-up of Wings, with Denny and Henry bouncing off each other
well. Far from a mess, this is one of the band's most unfairly neglected songs
that makes for a neat combination with A-side ballad 'My Love' - a track which
couldn't be more different from it. Find it on: the
McCartney Collection CD re-issue of 'Red Rose Speedway'
One of Wings' most popular moments - and
near enough the unlistenable James Bond theme song (even Lulu's isn't very
good) - is [55] 'Live and Let Die'. Given that the film itself
was rather a crucial one (the first to feature Roger Moore rather than Sean
Connery in the role) the producers set about asking all the big names they
could find. Paul was an obvious person to ask for a song - the Bond soundtracks
were more often than not recorded at AIR studios, the ones part-owned by George
Martin and it was the producer who was sounded out about working together with
one of his old comrades. The surprise is that this hadn't happened before -
George was just about the only person still on friendly terms with all four
Beatles by the end and he and McCartney still got on well (although, as will
happen in 1980, George was less keen on Wings as a group). Having enjoyed the
lasdt commision the pair had worked on together (1966's 'The Family Way'), Paul
readily agreed and with the screenplay not yet ready set about reading Ian
Fleming's book. Whether he captures the mood of the actual film is a moot point
(its one of the quieter Bonds - meaning there's only ten explosions across the
film, not 20), but McCartney as ever 'gets' the commisoon exactly right: 'Live
and Let Die' is filled with drama, sound effects and an all guns blazing
orchestra that's as rock and roll as the film credits ever got (even when the likes
of Garbage and Madonna are hired precisely for that purpose in the 1990s). The
riff is particularly strong and suitable for action scenes, while the sudden
switch backs from high drama to slow romance ballad are made with a lot more
care than the films ever managed. There's even the earliest example of the
McCartneys - and as a reult Western music - using reggae on a hit song during
the middle eight (written partly by Linda, hence her co-credit - rare for an A
side. This is particularly impressive given that she hadn't read the book).
This is in fact the most intriguing moment of the song, dropping down the
tension to alow the song to relax and the listeners to take a deep breath, only
to return unexpectently back to the main song with a scream of 'hell!' that
cleverly sets the whole song in motion again. There's even a decent lyric -
surely unique for a Bond score - that's unusually tough and gritty for
McCartney, flying in the face of 'All You Need Is Love' by declaring that the
narrator has had enough of letting live and let live, along with the sub-plot
of the main character hardening as he gets older ('When you were young your
heart was an open book'). Just as Lennon was turning into McCartney across 1973
(with the 'Mind Games' LP), so McCartney was turning into Lennon, this track as
tough and uncompromising as any of John's work. Wings plays well too, with
Denny Laine providing some excellent harmonies as ever and Denny Seiwelll
getting one last chance to show off what a versatile drummer he could be. The
fact that this is pretty much the last recording the first/second line-up of
Wings (with and without Henry) made is truly sad. The one element that doesn't
quite work is the vocal - Macca pitches it a little too high (this is often the
song that strains his voice during modern-day concerts) and doesn't quite nail
what should be a glorious shift of gears from paranoid to relaxed and macho to
romantic. Perhaps sensing this, ** Broccoli (the producer of the Bond films)
gave some interesting feedback when George presented him with the finished
tapes: 'Great demo George - but who are we going to get to sing this on the
record? I hear a female voice!' An abashed George paused for a minute and
said 'well - you do have Paul
McCartney!' While not as strong as some of Paul's most personal, revealing and
downright moving songs ('Every Night' 'Waterfalls' 'Don't Let It Bring You
Down' etc), 'Live and Let Die' is towards the upper end of Paul's 'hack' work,
written through the power of nothing more than his imagination (Lennon, always
jealous of this ability which he didn't possess - again see 'Mind Games' - was
particularly snooty about this song). It's also one heck of a lot more
memorable than the film, which seems to have taken it's cue from this song's
fireworks rather than the lyrical drama. Find it on:
most McCartney compilations including 'Wings Greatest' (1978), All The Best
(1987) and 'Wingspan' (1999)
An early example of Denny Laine singing
a folkier than normal McCartney song, [56] 'I Lie Around' is another charming Wings B-side from
the mid-1970s. Unusually Denny is cast as the 'grumpy' one and Paul as the
bouncy 'happy' one (this will change over by the time of 'Children Children'),
messing around at the start of the song pretending that he's jumping into a
river (listen out for a brief dog bark which sounds suspiciously like the one
used to link 'Good Morning Good Morning' and the Reprise of 'Sgt Peppers' in
1967). Another song about city boy Paul's respect for the 'healing' properties
of nature, Denny plays the part of a hobo, sadly reflecting that 'I have no
choice in the matter' while Paul's delightfully sunny melody tries to shake him
out of his blues. By the end even Denny's narrator is revelling in the fact
that he has nowhere to go and no deadlines to meet, away from the stuffy city
life and able to 'lie around all over the place'. The song ends with some
gorgeous three-part harmonies (with Linda especially prominent) and some owl
hoots suggesting the narrator has found somewhere to rest for the night. The
riff is particularly lovely, first played on a shuffling acoustic guitar
looking at its feet before the sound gets emebllished first by Henry's electric
guitar, then the harmonies, then Denny S's drums, flowering from a song about
loss into one of having everything and not realising it (a very McCartney theme
- that's another reason why this book is called 'Smile Away'). Unusually Paul
emebellishes the production with horns - the first time, really, since as far
back as 1966's 'Got To Get You Into My Life', particularly odd since a brass
section is generally lazy shorthand for 'city slums'. Funnily enough, too, the
last but one song recorded by Wings era one has Denny sighing 'so long, bye bye
- it was fun while it lasted'. The result is a sweet song that deserves to be
more widely known. Find it on: the 'McCartney
Collection' CD re-issue of 'Red Rose Speedway'
Simiarly [57] 'Country Dreamer' finds Paul in his best
farmer's voice and sounds very much like a song busked for Linda during a trip
to their Mull of Kintyre farm. A belated sequel to 'Two Of Us' this finds the
pair going out and doing nothing, 'getting lost' safe in the knowledge that it
doesn't matter what they do as long as they're together. Funkier and rawer than
usual for Wings, this is the band with their wellington boots on, wallowing in
the mud after so many pristine sounding recordings and sounding all the better
for it (especially the pedal steel guitar part). The tune is pretty, though,
and perhaps a little out of place, the introduction playing around with the
cute aocutsic guitar riff for a full 30 seconds before everyone else joins in
(perhaps that's the point, ther timid city boy suddenly realising he has acres
and acres of natural ground to play around in). With a sudden flurry of classy
Wings harmonies on the chorus, it's one of the author's most overlooked songs,
the last time he sings of the joys of being outside for the rest of this book
and thus ending a theme that stretches right back to 'Mother Nature's Son' on
'The White Album' (and of course reached it's zenith on 'Ram'). Paul needs to
write another country song about the country - he clearly has a feel for the
genre. Find it on: the 'McCartney Collection' and
deluxe re-issues of 'Band On The Run'
Non-Album
Recordings Part #5: 1974
A
cheery if bonkers instrumental with slight gaulic overtones, [68] 'Zoo Gang' is an unusual duet
for accordion and mellotron. Written at the last minute in the 'Band' sessions
and released as the B-side of 'Band On The Run' when it was unexpectedly chosen
as a 'third single' from the album (at EMI's request, not Paul's), chances are
we weren't meant to hear it at all. The song was written in a hurry for Lew
Grade, the man who just a year before had been sueing McCartney for daring to
let Linda co-write half his songs and forcing him to make TV specials where he
had to hang around with his dad round the pub and dress up in a tuxedo. In
truth, the pair got on and were fairly good friends by this time, with Grade
commissioning Paul for a TV series he thought had legs named 'Zoo Gang'. Despite
the title the series was actually a thriller about fighters in the French
Resistence Movement who all come out of retirement to chat avout old times
(it's like 'Dad's Army' without the laughs and some horrific accents). It's
sort of like Paul's theme for 'Spies Likes Us' a decade later (what with 'Live
and Let Die' as well, why do people keep asking McCartney to write themes for
spy movies?!) and equally inessential to the canon, really. The song really was
recorded in France during a 'working holiday' for Wings there, though only this
and a couple of songs later released on LInda' compilation 'Wide Prairie' ever
came out. The mellotron sound is pure Wings, though, as is the sudden shift
from foghorn siren to an actually pretty funky guitar and bass part. Find it on: The McCartney Collection and deluxe re-issues
of 'Band On The Run'
[69]
'Junior's Farm' is a
prime example of why McCartney fans both love and dread each and every new
single because they never quite know what they're going to get (Paul's biggest
problem is that he's no great judge of his own abilities,promoting, say,
'Maxwell's Silver Hammers' whilst having doubts about a song as strong as
'Yesterday'. Denny Laine does get better at telling him 'stop' but doesn't
know Paul well enough yet and has his own lapses in taste to contend with
occasionally anyway). A driving rocker with a great riff, a strong unusual
Motown style bass part and a fabulous cameo from new boy Jimmy McCulloch on
guitar ('Take me down, Jimmy!') this should be one of those well respected
Wings songs celebrated by those who don't usually like the band. Had this song
been an instrumental it would surely have been a truly loved moment in the
Wings canon. But the single comes with one of McCartney's most wayward of
lyrics, the sort of thing he badly needed a Lennon around to tell him to go and
write better. Inspired, very very loosely, by Dylan's 'Maggioe's Farm',
typically Paul puts a happier twist on proceedings and makes the farmer a
youngster, presumably one of the 'hippie' generation Paul so often wrote for in
the 1960s. The fact that the flower children are now taking jobs of respnsibility
and are in a position to make the changes they were always denied as oldies -
effectively becoming the establishment - is a great basis for a McCartney song
(Paul, too, could be 'junior' and was well into his 'farming years' by this
time). However the song's tricky riff means this song has to have an extended
rhyming scheme: not so much ABAB as usual but AAA. Paul just can't think of
enough words and gets inceasingly surreal as the song gets on, strating off at
a poker game, moving to an eskimo and ending up in politics ('At the houses of
parliament everybody's talking about the president - we all chip in for a bag
of cement'). Unusually Paul seems to be doing John's old trick of watching the
telly while writing for inspiration, quoting from what seems to be a fictional
Laurel and Hardy film (I have the box set and I don't remember a film with Olly
on a horse - believe me, that's not an image I'd forget! Paul may have been
remembering the silent film 'Wrong Again' in which Laurel nearly sits on a
horse, mistaken for a piano - long story - but not Hardy). That's a pity
because this song is exactly what fans had been longing for from Wings from
many a long year: a song that manages to both rock really hard (with Wings'
twin guitars-and-bass attack never sounding better) and stay imminently
playful, the two best sides of McCartney's many talents. It's also, along with
the B-side and Country Ham tracks, the only place you can hear Geoff Britton as
part of the band and he sounds far happier here than on the other three with
some excellently fierce drumming. Find it on: 'All
The Best' (1987) and 'Winsgpan' (1999)
Meanwhile
the first official sessions by Wings Mark II were taking place in little ol'
Nashville. Paul had vague plans to record a whole album here, before the law
busted his boy Jimmy outta town after a drunken night too far and he realised
he didn't quite have an album of suitab;le songs yet annyway. [70] 'Sally G' is our only
evidence of what a 'Wings Over Nashville' album might have sounded like - and
I'm not qiiute sure if its a tragic loss or a great escape. The tune is
Macca-catchy, with a great hook ('Why do you want to do the things you do to
me?') and the classic revelation that the narrator never does find out his
beloved's last name ('But I know for sure it wasn't 'Good'!) There's also a
lovely middle eight that really socks a punch as things go wrong and we switch,
without knowing it, to the minor key ('I could see our love was dying!') and
the un-named narrator realises he has to 'move along'. Actually the song
started life as 'Diane G' in homage to local country singer Diane Gafney, but
was quickly rebranded when Paul read about her suing a journalist using her
image without asking and feared a similar court case. Typically, Paul also
adopts a whole new genre with aplomb, mastering country currency with the ease
he's tackled big band numbers, psychedelia, folk-rock and all but invented
heavy metal in years past. However there's an underlying sense that this song
is having just a bit too much of a good time. This track is a pithy song about
heartbreak but everyone is playing it for laughs (just listen to the lyrics -
Sally sings 'A Tangled Mind', a daft country song by Hank Snow, while
'Printer's Alley' was Wings' favourite haunt in Nashville, in-joked both and
just check out that strummed guitar note and spoken sigh from Paul at the
song's end). How you respond to this song depends how you respond to the
opening lyric: is 'In Nashville I met a pretty - made a pretty big fool out of
me' the single best line of McCartney's career or the worst (answer: it's both,
simultaneously.There'll be lots more of this sort of thing to come later). But
nobody seems to have told their hosts Buddy Emmons (pedal steel), Vassar
Clements and Johnny Gimble (fiddles), who play this song as if its just another
Nashville ballad. Curiously, EMI re-marketed this song all over again when
'Junior's Farm' proved to be only a middling seller in the hope of getting
another hit and even stamped up the record again with the 'A' and 'B' notices
switched, though 'Sally G' actually fared worse in terms of sales. Find it on: the 'McCartrney Collection' and deluxe
re-issues of 'Venus and Mars'
Though
people naturally assumed from the 'McCartney' credit on the single that the
instrumental [71] 'Walking In The Park With Eloise' was another example of Paul
having a go at a new genre, the song was actually much older than that - older
than Paul in fact! The song and its B-side were written by Jim McCartney,
Paul's dad, and were briefly in the repertoire of the Jim Mac Jazz Band. Though
McCartney Senior never considered himself a proper songwriter like his son (his
comment on hearing these recordings was 'I didn't writethem son - I might have
made them up but I didn't write them!') and had to be persuaded to play these
songs at all, a proud Paul knew exactly how they went. The Wings Nashville trip
was at least partly arranged to these songs could be recorded there - Paul
having befriended Chet Atkins who had asked him about his background and had
grown interesting in hearing about his dad's musical past - even though they
don't actually have much of a Nashville sound (a trip to a Coliery mining town
might have been a better bit for the song, though admittedly would have made
for a lousy holiday).Cheery with a touch of sunshine about it, McCartney senior
very much has his son's writing style and this track is similar in many ways to
'Honey Pie', with the same roaring twenties flapper feel and slightly awkward
charm. Chet Atkins and his usual bassist Floyd Cramer both guest while Denny
and Jimmy are conspicuous by their absence, although you can't really hear
either of them too clearly, drowned out as they are by three saxophonists and a
trumpet player. Clearly the song was never going to appeal to Wings' normal
audience to Paul came up with the self-deprecating name 'The Country Hams' to disguise
their involvement, accidentally 'giving away' the deception soon afterwards to
boost sales. The single still flopped, in part because Jim refused all
publicity - though tickled pink by the trouble his son had gone to he wasn't at
all sure he wanted Beatle fans to know about it! Find
it on: the 'McCartrney Collection' and deluxe re-issues of 'Venus and Mars'
[72]
'Bridge Over The River Suite'
was the B-side of the above single and though less immediate is arguably the
better. This track shows where Paul got his moodier, darker side from too with
its slow burning blues funk and double bass part. Jimmy and Denny both return,
the former playing a lovely delicate solo answered by the horns. Like the
A-side, though, it has limited appeal outside hearing where the McCartney genes
come from. Find
it on: the 'McCartney Collection' and deluxe re-issues of 'Venus and Mars'
Non-Album
Recordings Part #6: 1975
[85] 'Lunch Box Odd Sox' is 'Venus' era out-take, a cute synthesiser
instrumental every bit as weird as it sounds from the title. It's based aroud
an urgent piano riff (which sounds not unlike the one from '1985') and features
one of those instantly recognisable wobbly Wings syunths on top (playing a
phrase not unlile the one from the middle of 'Band On The Run'). Abandoned due
to better songs being around, it was surprisngly reveived to become B-side of
Macca’s 1980 Coming Up single (with no credit given to the 'Mark II'
Wings line-up that made it), the first real example of McCartney raiding his
own cupboards for release (there'll be a lot more of this sort of thing in the
1980s and 1990s). Find it on: the 'McCartney
Collexction' and deluxe re-issues of 'Venus and Mars'
Talking
of which, most fans know [86] 'My
Carnival' as the rather noisy
flipside to 'Spies Like Us', a rather noisy single from 1985. The two songs go
so well together, both featuring the more simplistic and primal side of
McCartney's art, that many assumed it to be contemporary. Instead it dates back
to 'Venus and Mars' and, improvised at the sessions, it shows off the New
Orleans party vibe far more than any of the songs that made the album. The song
starts off promisingly, with a catchy Mardi-Gras style riff, but goes downhill
fast from there after a first verse about this being a 'lovely day' and not
much more and your heart really sinks by the second half of the song when you
realise that this is all there is going to be. Wings try hard to concoct a
party atmopshere in the studio and almost succeed, but you can tell that no one
except Paul thinks this is a good idea, with the horns stiff and the rest of
the band OTT in their attempts to gee-up a non-song. Shockingly, the original version
of the song, titled 'Going To
New Orleans', was even worse, with the riff played on piano as Macca
busks 'Going to New Orleans to see the Mardi-Gras and when I get there all the
girls gonna know who we are!' Like many a jam session it goes on too long and
sounds more fun to play than to listen to, although as ever it's interesting to
hear what Paul decided to keep and what to throw out after having his first
ideas. As usual, too, it wasn't always the best aspects of the song that got
kept, as this versions' slight waddle is a better treatment of the riff than
what the band decided to play later. Find both
versions on the deluxe re-issue of 'Venus and Mars'
A much better
outtake, which sadly never got further than demo form, is the sad little guitar
song [ ] '4th Of July'. While I'd love to think that Paul
wrote this because he remembered my birthday (albeit seven years before I was
born), it seems more likely that his holiday in New Orleans over the Summer
period revealed to him what a big deal American Independence Day is over there.
Perhaps feeling a little adrift from the partying, being English and all, Paul
comes up with a character who feels similar lost and confused by it all, only
this person has just been dumped by the love of their life. Everyone around him
is smiles and sure he'll get over this little setback in his life, asking him
why he's crying, but Paul's narrator doesn't see it like that and fears that
his life will never be the same. Together with a pretty melody, that's haunting
and thoughtful and quite different to most of the whizz-bang-whallop tracks on
'Venus and Mars', this is one of McCartney's better outtakes of the period, so
obscure that for years all bootleggers knew of this song was the ten second
chorus, doodled between some other songs on another reel of tape. It's great to
hear the full song and for it to be so much better than expected. Find it on: the deluxe edition of
'Venus and Mars'
Non-Album Recordings Part #7: 1976
[98]
'Soilly' is the song
that time forgot - a cracking studio version (taped during early sessions for
what became 'Venus and Mars as seen on the documentary 'One Hand Clapping',
with Geoff Britton on drums) is still, frustratingly, unreleased, leaving fans
with the live recording at the very end of 'Wings Over America' to savour.
Feeling that the song hadn't quite gelled at the time, it seems odd that Paul
didn't revicve it during 'Band On The Run' (especially as its one he knew well
and didn't have to piece together after demo tapes were stolen during the making
of that album). One of Macca's best rockers, driven by a punchy aggressive bass
line, some noisy drumming from Joe
English at his best and some screaming Jimmy McCulloch guitar getting in some
early practice for the heavier sound he'll pursue (briefly and sadly
unrecorded) with Humble Pie in 1977, it's Wings at their finest. Despite
playing for some three hours, they still manage to reach fever pitch with this
delightfully silly song that gets more and more out of control with each verse,
pushing Macca to a hoarse 'oh yeahhhhh' scream that would have given even
Little Richard the heebeegeebies. The lyrics are once again the weak link, as
they so often are on McCartney heavy rock songs, with the chorus rhyme 'Soilly,
soilly - the cat in satin trousers says it's oilly!' among the weirdest we've
ever covered. Whether its because Wings have been playing for two hours and
you're caught up in the moment or whether you simply can't hear the words anyway,
somehow this matters less on this track than usual, however. 'Soilly' is a
powerful, punchy rock song that's one of its creator's best and eats the
previous and supposedly heavier song ('Hi Hi Hi') for breakfast. All together
now: Duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn-duhn, duhn-duhn-duhn-der-doooooooooooo! Find the live version on 'Wings Over America' (1976) and
the studio 'One Hand Clapping' version on the 'Band On The Run' deluxe edition
Non-Album Recordings Part #8: 1977
Modern McCartney fans - or McCartney
fans who live outside the UK - may be surprised to learn what the biggest
selling solo or Wings song in Paul's homeland is. With more sales than even
'Hey Jude' and beating a long-standing record set by 'I Want To Hold Your Hand'
by The Beatles back in 1964 it''s...[101] 'Mull Of Kintyre'. If you're American then its that
rather dreary song with bagpipes on the flipside of slop single 'Girl's
School'; if you're of a certain age then it's that song that sounded good at
first but got less interesting each time you heard it for all the eight
flipping weeks it was at number one and shown on Top Of The Pops on every
single flipping one of them; and if you're a modern McCartney song then its the
one you skip to get to the Michael Jackson and Stevie Winder duets. 'Mull Of
Kintyre' is all sorts of things to all sorts of people - and I find myself
siding with all of them. Ironically Paul wrote the song as he was sick of
hearing 'Auld Lang Syne' and 'Loch Lomond' and wanted a modern Scottish song
for people to sing still keeping with the old traditions, perhaps not realising
how over-played the song would become (Paul was actually unusually doubtful
that this song would be a hit in the middle of punk; it was the guesting
Cmpbeltown Pipers' enthusiasm for it on the overdubbing session that convinced
him). To those who hate this song I agree - it's a bit of a dirge without much
happening and chocolate-box lyrics that aren't up to Paul's (or co-writer
Denny's) usual high standards. To those who skip this song - I'm one of you
most of the time as this song really does suck all the life out the room most
often when you play it and I've gone mad skipping through the thing every week
for eight weeks on the TOTP BBC4 re-runs; I'd have gone mad sitting through all
of it every week for that long. Of all the McCartney songs to break world
records, this doesn't feel like it should be 'the one', with the slowest tempo
of all McCartney singles outside 'My Love' and none of that song's warm melody
and universality. And yet... every so often, I'll get a tingle that shows me
what a great song this is, away from all the laughs and jokes and the piles of
this single still lying around in charity shops. McCartney and Laine are class
acts and know how to add an extra sparkle into a song and the way this song
accelerates expertly through the keys, moving from an introverted solo
performance into a mass singalong is still very very clever. There's just
enough sense of national pride too, even if McCartney is only an 'adopted'
Scotsman, with his simple rain-sozzled mist-covered 'home' painted as if its
one of the most amazing places on Earth, a simple statement about overcoming
obstaclesa that makes this song 'more' Scottish than if it was simply written
about heather and tins of shortbread (my Scottish friend Lizzie still gets
weepy over this song and most Scottish fans tend to be the same; interestingly
my family history seem to come from the parts of the English-Scottish borders
that were forever changing hands, hence my mixed feelings for this song). To
prove this point, away from Scotland this single flopped miserably in most
countries, although it was a surprise #1 hit in Australia and Belgium! Though
'Mull' is having a bit of a 'lull' in terms of reputation right now, in a few
hundred years when we've forgotten it this song might yet be celebrated as one
of Paul's finest. Find it on: 'All The Best' (1987)
and 'Wingspan' (1999) and the 'McCartney Collection' re-issue of 'London Town'
The few people who ever bothered to turn
the 'Mull Of Kintyre' single over would have been in for a shock. The flip side
of one of the best-selling records ever is the bordering-on-releaseable [102] 'Girl's School'. Now unlike
some critics (who were even more scathing of this song in the era of punk than
the A side) that's not because I don't like it. On the contrary, its a great
way for the McCulloch-English era of Wings to end with one of their tightest
performances on a gritty rocker with a guitar riff guaranteed to get stuck in
your head. It's just that this song is, in its authro's own words, a
'pornographic St Trinians'. Almost all the song titles are taken from X-rated
film titles ('School Mistress' 'Oriental Princess' 'Woman Trainer') and
concerns a new girl at the school whose lured out of her virginal ways.While
the young girls making a film aren't decsribed in any detail they're clearly up
to something they want to keep hidden ('They put the paper on the win-ders!)
and probably illegal ('She gives them thrills in a paper cup and then knocks
them on the head!') With a guitar riff bordering on a wolf whistle, this is a
song that would have raised eyebrows released by anybody - released by the
former adorable moptop Paul, I'm surprised in retrospect it didn't cause as big
a fuss as 'Give Ireland Back To The
Irish' (it isn't as if Paul kept his intentions over the song clear). In case
you're thinking 'this is only a B-side - he can get away with saying anything',
it was only a B-side in Britain (where releasing a single all about Scotland made
sense). In America the song was flipped over with 'Girl's School' the promoted
side, where it died an ignoble death and fell off the charts quicker than any
other Wings release since 'Ireland' and 'Mary'. In truth this song deserves
better: it's tight and powerful, as infectious as any other of those songs in
the infectious McCartney catalogue and a nice attempt to try something a little
different away from the nicer-than-nice image that critics always complain Paul
never breaks and always ignores when he does . Find
it on: The McCartney Collection re-issue of 'London Town'
Non-Album Recordings Part #9: 1979
McCartney has tried his hand at just
about everything over the years, usually with success somewhere once, if not
every time. [133] 'Goodnight
Tonight' is Wings' disco song, a track which will make those who haven't
heard it yet recoil in horror, but as ever Paul doesn't just grasp what a genre
of music needs to sound good - he pulverises the competition. Built around a
repetitive Steve Holly drum part and his own busy bass part that keep trying to
talk, 'Godnight Tonight' is a memorable song that somehow manages to find
something new to say about that worn-out old theme of not wanting to break
up.'Don't say it!' McCartney snaps, his vocal as staccato as the rest of the
song, although its also quite a tender song pleading that from his experience you
can never get 'tired of love'. Things go a bit wrong and a little desperate in
the middle, when criss-crossing guitar solos, rattled synthesised percussion
and an early use of the vocoder sound like a middle aged man's idea of what the
young are up to these days. However most of this song is impressively spot-on
and must have been quite alien for a band like Wings to try: the guitars are
the suface noise, not the driving force; the bass and drums work in competition
not tandem and the rhythm has to be the single most important element of the
song. The fact that we also get a song on top that isn't embarrasing makes this
one of the better Wings singles - head and shoulders above the 'Back To The
Egg' album that same year - and a fine way for their discography to end (its
certainly a better end than that 'Wonderful Xmas Time' , which doesn't even
feature the band and is instead a McCartney solo). Find
it on: 'All The Best' (1987) and 'Wingspan' (1999) plus the 'McCartney
Collection' re-issue of 'Back To The Egg'
'Goodnight's B-side is another
much-loved McCartney song, often quoted by Paul as one of his favourite
'forgotten' songs. The latest in a long line of tributes to women in general
and LInda in particular, [134] 'Daytime
Night-Time Suffering' is Paul coming to terms with sexism and equality
about the same time that Lennon was writing 'Woman'. Like many of Paul's better
1980s songs to come, it's really two songs conbined together even though
there's no natural fit: the first half features a catchy riff and the idea that
the woman in the song gets no respect or reward but does her job well anyway.
The second half has two lovers joining together, 'you are the river - I am the
stream' and features a quite different sort of catchy riff (which in another's
hands might be classified 'soul'). There's even a middle eight stuck in to keep
the song moving, featuring some lovely Wings harmonies, dismissing Paul's earlier
asttempt at writing this sort of as song while younger on 'Lady Madonna' by
saying its 'no fairytale anymore' (well, technically that song was based around
a nursery rhyme but it same difference). This section then ends with Beach Boys
micxed with The Batcherlors style harmonies as heard on parts of 'Ram' and more
especially the recent big band re-recording 'Thrillington'. Both Paul as writer and Wings as performers
have clearly out more effort into this song than usual - so why it didn't make
the album or the A-side is unknown. As a last chance to hear what Wings could
offer that few others bands could (a funky backing track covered by classy
harmonies), it's another fine last hurrah. Listen out for Pauls then-toddler
James crying out 'mama' during the end of the third section -a part left on
from Paul's demo presumably because it fitted the song's theme about a busy
mother always having something to do. Find it on:
'Wingspan' (1999) and the 'McCartney Collection' re-issue of 'Back To The Egg'
The McCartney optimism, hope and cheer
ought to go well at Christmas and Macca really ought to be more capable of
writing an uplifting song than Lennon, who stole a march on him with the
Beatley 'Happy Xmas (War Is Over)' back in 1971. However, as with so many other
Wings releases across 1979, there's something a bit off about [135] 'Wonderful
Xmas Time'. To be fair, Wings are blameless: though their name appears on the
record and they look suitably uncomfortable miming to the song on a chaotic
music video this is really all Paul's doing, a doodle written early on during
sessions for 'McCartney II' and played by Paul's keyboards singlehandedly. It's
one of his most gormless, cliche-ridden and irritating songs, nicking the 'ding
song' bit from a George Harrison single and adding sleigh bells and handclaps
alongside one of the single worst lyrics of his career. The gist of the song:
what a great time we're having, which to be fair has got us through plenty of
over festive schlock down the years but really is particularly bad. 'Cheer'
rhymes with 'year' 'dong' rhymes with 'both 'song' and long' and 'up' somehow
gets shoe-horned into rhyming with 'enough', even though it plainly shouldn't.
Even the basic single-line chorus doesn't scan ('dur-dur, dur-dur *deep breath*
di-dahh dee-dah-dah-dah', which is at least a 'dum' short). The whole thing is
a mess which should have been ripped out and started again, with only rhe
refreshingly contemporary synth sound to recommend it (and even then 'Mccartney
II' makes better use of similar sounds). Even at Christmas my feelings of
goodwill to all beings goes out the window when I hear this song and am
reminded, once again, that even ex-Beatles are only human. At least there's one
blessing though: there was talk about holding this single back another year (it
was released on November 26th, which is a bit late for the Christmas shoppers)
- it could so easily have been riding in the charts the week Lennon died, which
is a thought too awful to contemplate (then again I'm surprised he felt the need
to compete with McCartney at all and come out of 'retirement' after hearing
this!) Bah! Humbug! Find it on: Every charity shop
known to man, plus the deluxe edition of 'McCartney II' 9whioch contains an
even longer edit of the song!)
You can usually rely on a McCartney
B-side to justify spending money on a weak A-side, but for once even that seems
pretty pointless. The best thing about [136] 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reggae' is the title, which
will surely give you some idea what a rum release this is. Like that pair of
socks or that Soice Giorls compilation you got for Christmas and have to force
yourself to look pleased about, this song's merry cheer sounds forced and
painful as 'Rudoplh' gets massacred thanks to synth and fiddle. Once again
Wings are blameless and Paul plays most of the backing, although the violin
part has always been something of a mystery. Paul rang his manager and got him
to send him a violin player at Abbey Road Studios where the mixing of the
single was taking place. However neither Paul nor his manager took the
violinist's name; a bit of research in later years revealed him to be Bob
Loveday, a session regular who also played on albums by Bob Geldof, Jeff Beck
and Kirsty McColl. The result is a mess: a cheery post-Christmas-hangover
bobhomie mess maybe, but a mess all the same. Rudolph with your synth so
bright, why's this single such a fright? Find it on:
The McCartney Collection edition of 'Back To The Egg', although we suggest a
long lie down in a darkened room straight after to help you recover!
Non-Album Recordings Part #10: 1980
Just to tidy things up, the live debut
of [137a] 'Coming Up'
played on Wings' 1979 tour in Glasgow was nominated as the 'A Side' of the more
regular 'Coming Up' single in some countries. Though played with passion and a
pretty fair facsimilie of a record that must have been hell to create only
using usual instruments, it's nothing like as original or powerful as the
'synth' version and ends awkwardly, with a crowd chant of 'Paul McCartney' that
runs for a minute, batted away in an embarrassed manner by Paul who joins in
with a nonsense cry of 'Henry Nonglish' to break the spell (actually edited on
the end from the performance of 'Mull Of Kintyre' with pipers from the same
show - the crowd are quiet after 'Coming Up' and don't know what to make of it
at all!) Lennon said in one of his last interview that he 'liked the freaky
version Paul made in his garage' and that he 'thought the record company had a
nerve telling him to put that version out' (America, where the single didn't do
so well, had the 'live' version as the A-side). As per usual when it came to
McCartney songs, Lennon was right. Find it on: the
deluxe re-issue of 'McCartney II'
One of the first songs demoed for what
became 'Tug Of War' is the gentle ballad
stringfest [ ] 'Same
Time Next Year'. A typically melodious eyes-open-innocent McCartney
song, the track was written for the film of the same name and relates to the
plot of a clandestine love affair and a reunion after many years. The song was
however rejected from the soundtrack, which is a blinkiung cheek since, while
no classic, its one hell of a lot classier than the film (it's all a bit pointless,
like an episode of 'As Time Goes By' stretched out to a whole two-hour movie). Set
after the lovers are parting for another year, it's full of regret and sadness
with a particularly mounrful middle eight ('Ah but nothing changes!') that
hints at the emotion under the surface of the film couple. However the
execution is a bit lumpy at times: check this out for the second verse - 'Still to me you look the same, as when I
fogot your name, lovers in a lovers game!' The riff is also a bit, well,
gauche: its stop-start section is clearly meant to make Paul sound like a
lovestruck teenager but just makes him sound as. if. he's. sitting. on.
something. very hot. and he'cant'. talk. proper. ly. Even so the song deserved
better than to sit in the vaults for so many years, eventually being released
in 1990 on the back of the 'Put It There' single, a home for rejected 1970s
McCartney songs. Find it on: In a development I
really don't agree with, 'TheMcCartney Collection' featured every song in the
order of release rather than recording, which means that this song sounded more
out of place than ever on the end of 'Flowers In The Dirt' from a decade later
[155]
'Rainclouds' is a typically
happy go lucky McCartbey song about how things can look bad but aren't really -
the sun is still there, its just hidden by a 'raincloud; that will fly away
soon. If Paul, Dennyand Linda sound less than entirely convincing, however,
that's because it was this song the pair were working on during early sessions
for what became 'Tug Of War' with George Martin when the studio heard the
breaking news that Lennon had just been murdered. Rather than flee home and
avoid the cameras, the quartet didn't want to go home and face up to it so they
elected to stay behind finishing off the vocals for the song and delaying the
inevitable press conference for as long as possible (this was arguably a bad
decision - a weary and over emotional McCartney telling reporters 'it's a
drag', more out of numb shock than any discrespect for his fallen friend). Of all
the many ripples of bad luck, sgrief and lost opportunities that came after
Lennon's death, 'Rainclouds' is only a minor casualty but a minor casualty all
the same. This song is genuinely pretty and deserves the off-hand, almost angry
throwaway vocal Paul understandably gives it here, the lyrics that seemed so
clever that morning apparently mocking him - this is one part of a sdunny sky
blocked out by more than just a 'raincloud'. A brief return of the flageolloen turns this song briefly into an Irish sea shanty - the first since 'Give
Ireland Back To The Irish' - but even this neat touch now sounds hopelessly
misguided because of circumstances beyond everyone's control. You can
understand and sympathise with why Paul never returned to this song - it was no
doubt blackened forever in his mind when the four got the news and its
surprising actually that he did release it at all. But Lennon's death wasn't
'Rainclouds' fault - this clever, witty and very McCartney pop song deserves a
fairer break. Find it on: the deluxe re-issue of
'Tug Of War'
An
early demo sensibly discarded from 'Tug Of War, the music hall-esque [ ] 'Stop! You Don't Know Where She Came From' is cut from the same
slightly artificial cloth as 'Ballroom Dancing' but not quite as strong or
memorable. To be fair, Paul never got that far with the song and seems to have
abandoned it after having fun with its bogie woogie piano line for a few
minutes, although it's nice to have as an extra after all these years.
Non-Album Recordings Part #11: 1981
In 1981 Paul invited 50s guitar legend
Carl Perkins to appear on a rockabilly song he'd just written for 'Tug Of War'
titled 'Get It'. Though George had always been the big Perkins buff in the
Beatles family, Paul admired the slickness of Carl's work and the way he
managed to tell simple Chuck Berry-like stories that set up a whole world
(he'll cover the Perkins song 'Movie Magg' on 1999's 'Run Devil Run'). Carl
enjoyed the experience so much (you can tell by the laughing over the fade of
'Get It', which runs and runs) that he wanted the collaboration to happen
again, with Paul turning up to Carl's place this time. [156] 'My Old Friend' is a Perkins
song written as a 'thankyou', although iuts a rather odd thankyou: the pair had
never met before the 1980s and yet here Carl refers to Paul as a really old
friend who goes way back, rather than a new friend he'd enjoyed hanging out
with. Carl goes further: You treated me like a king and you've given me a
reason to go on...and if we never meet again outside of life...' Steady there
Carl, 'Get It' wasn't really that great a song!Paul sounds suitably embarrassed
and unlike the earlier collaboration both of them sing at once, which is a
touch uncomfortable on the ears (Paul, realising this, gets them to swap verses
in his song). The result is an oddity, though long neglected by Beatle fans who
don't know about it. Find it on: the Carl Perkins
album 'Go Cat Go!' (1981)
Non-Album Recordings Part #12: 1982
A silly song Macca used to love playing
on piano at the drop of a hat, [169] 'I'll Give You A Ring' is a very 50s-style song based around the
much-used pun over the 'ring' that Pauk's narrator wants to put on his girls'
finger and the 'ring' that he's waiting for on ther telephone. 'You
look-a-little lonely' is an ear-grabbing opening, though, while Paul gets away
with a lot through his vocal delivery - even the rhyme of 'picture' and
'feature' is almost pulled off. In common with many of his 1970s leftovers, the
song is also two very different pieces stuck together, with a louder, noisier
chorus ('Woah man! I know I won't be lonely anymore!') exploding into life
suddenly in the middle. Neither are that much of a song on their own, but put
together this track is the sum of more than its parts somehow. It's the backing
that isn't quite right, with Paul fighting a losing battle against an anonymous
string part and a dense pop production thyat's nothing like as appealing as the
many (many many many) bootleg takes of Paul fooling around with this song on
the piano. Find it on: the deluxe re-issue of 'Tug
Of War'
Though
Paul had always intended [168b] 'Ebony and Ivory' as a duet with a black singer
(to make the point about piano keyboards having black and white notes), he
first recorded the song as a solo demo, in order to hear how it might sound,
Though this effectively means he's singing to himself, it does sound like much
more of a McCartney song somehow, with a very liverpudlian pronounciation of
'we learn to give each otherrr' and as a bonus there are none of the
over-produced and awfully fake backing vocals in place yet. However you do miss
Stevie's charm, which is a good part of what carries the song - in as far as
this song gets carried anywhere. Released as the flipside of the 'Ebony'
single, few fans have ever actually played it. Find
it on: the deluxe edition of '#Tug Of War'
Macca's
third collaboration of the early 1980s was with Michael Jackson, who was
invited to sing on 'Say Say Say' and wouldn't go home, resulting in a seconfd
song 'The Man'.Just as Paul thought he'd finally fgot shot of Wacko Jacko he
got a phone call inviting him to reprise their duet on a song Michael had
written, which thanks to its inclusion on Michael's best-selling album
'Thriller' quickly became the most-owned McCartney item ever. How Paul must
hate that fact because [170] 'The
Girl Is Mine' is atrocious. Sloppy, cliched and so treacly it would rot
the tooth fairy's teeth, it's one of those songs that should never ever have
been made and, frustratingly, reinforced to lots of people who didn't know what
McCartney usually sounded like that he was a mere purveyor of silly love songs
like this. Jackson did have a writing talent, thoiugh nothing close to Paul's
standards, but he's at his best on uptempo songs he can dance to - songs that
are all about the groove, not the story or the melody, two things Paul excels
at. This doggone song has nothing, just two lovesick fools fighting each other
over a girl they haven't even had the decency to ask out yet (what's the
betting she won't like either of them after their behaviour on this song?) The
sort-of remake of this track in 1989 (as 'You Want Her Too', another
collaboration with Jacko's polar opposite Elvis Costello) sounds as if Paul was
trying to rid his memory of the fact that this song ever happened. I don't
blame him. Even Jackson's fans hate this song. Find
it on: 'Thriller' (1982)
Non-Album Recordings Part #13: 1983
Given that 'Pipes Of Peace' was already
made up of leftovers from 'Tug Of War', McCartney was stretching himself very
thin with that year's B-sides. [182] 'Ode To A Koala Bear' - flipside to 'Say Say Say' - is a
much-mocked composition, a love song apparently written for a koala. Actually,
like 'Single Pigeon', it's a song that compares human behaviour with that of
the animal kingdom - the unknown person addressed in the song is a 'koala type
bear', whose culture Paul's narrator tries to understand in the song's
highlight the middle eight ('Tell me what it's like looking through your
eyes...'). Like the koala it tries to compare notes with, this song appears
cuddly from the outside but musically digs its claws in a few times thanks to a
repeated staccato piano riff. The weakest of Paul's songs trying to teach the
public about the very noble concern of animal conservationism,the music has an
oddball waddle and unfinished feel about it, while the lyric doesn't quite know
where to go past the first verse. A strong McCartney guitar part triple-tracked
and a loud gulping bass helps liven up
the song into something more substantial, but even Paul's vocal seems to be
yawning it's head off. Find it on: the deluxe
edition of 'Pipes To Peace'
One of many McCartrney songs submitted
to film scores across the 1980s, [183] 'Twice In A Lifetime' is unusual both in that it was used in the
actual film (unlike, say, 'Spies Like Us') and yet failed to make it onto a
bona fide McCartney release independently (unlike, say, 'Spies Like Us'). A
typical yearning McCartney ballad, dressed up to the nines, 'Twice in A
Lifetime' is a tough film to write a love song to, about a happily married
steelworker who ends up being seduced by Ann-Margaret as part of a mid-life
Christmas (She's 'Tommy's mother, this is just wrong! What will Oliver Reed
say?) At least this time, unlike 'Same Time Next Year' or 'Spies Like Us', the
song was actually included in the film, although there never was a film
soundtrack album for fans to buy and the song was in limbo for much of the next
decade until the 'McCartney Collection' series came along. Macca's lyrics
sweetly suggest that there may be more than one chance at happiness - and at
least two soulmates for every person. However the narrator may be hedging his
bets here: he requests his lover to 'stop before you give your answer' after
debating with her about true love, more interested in his own feelings of
elation than whether ot not his date feels the same thing. A lovely sighing middle eight ('I don't want
to step on anybody's toes') deserved to be the main hook of the song - the one
that's in the chorus, played by the saxophone isn't as interesting and the
rather soul-less and very 80s production does have the habit of chaining this
ethereal song to the floor when it should be soaring away. Still the song is a
likeable one that deserved a better fate than to be left behind on a film
nobody saw. Find it on: the 'McCartney Collection'
edition of 'Pipes Of Peace'
Non-Album Recordings Part #14: 1984
Even the critics who hung the 'Broad
Street' project out to dry agreed that [184a] 'No More Lonely Nights' was another McCartney
masterpiece. A yearning ballad that sounds as if it was written around the same
chords as 'The Long and Winding Road', it may be that Paul was playing around
with new arrangements of his old song and reminding himself - for possibly the
first time - of his long history and how he 'used' to write. The last of his
all-time classic 'perfect' songs it has a strong, powerful hook that can be
used in all sorts of ways (see below) and is used repeatedly throughout the
film as 'urgent' theme music. This ballad is more relaxed, though, yet again
written as tribute to Linda and touching on his 'confused' period circa 1970
when the world seemed to be against them both, Special guest Pink Floyd's David Gilmour makes for easily the most impressive
guest role on any McCartney record, with a searing guitar solo that conveys
just the right amount of passion and optomism (not something he'd had much of a
chance to use, recently, in the middle of Pink Floyd's 'gloomy' period). The
result has aboslutely zilch to do with the film where Linda is by his side
throughout (that's the problem with his film script in fact - Paul is never
lonely or in any real danger except - shock horror - he might have to re-record
his 30th album and his record label might hgave to wait a few months before
becoming millionaires again!), but is a powerful enough testament to what Paul
can do like nobody else: write songs about old subjects that still sparkle like
they were the first ones ever written. Find it on:
The 'Give My Regards To Broad Street' soundtrack album (1984) plus 'All The
Best' (1987) and, weirdly enough given the dating, 'Wingspan' (1999)
Weitten in a hurry, [185] 'Not Such A Bad Boy' was an
attempt to give Paul's 'character' a fun strutting simple rock song that the
band in the film (including Eric Stewart and Ringo) could play 'live'. A fun
early Wings-style rocker, it's a re-write of Pauk's Beatle song 'Getting
Better', with the adult narrator guilty at the discrpenecies in his youth ('I
laughed at the teachers who taught at my school' is the opening line'). Like
'Lonely Nights' the idea of re-recording songs from his past seem to have set
Paul's notalgia mode into hyperdrive and he reflects here that even the bad
experiences were good - that a disappearing girlfriend 'taught me things that I
needed to know'. With a classic catchy chorus, a funky beat and some lyrics
that again veer from McCartney at his best and worst ('I followed the leader
into a tent, but nobody told me she owed some rent!'), 'Not Such A Bad Boy' is
a fun song that, while no classic, more than fulfils its mission brief. Despite
being written and recorded in a hurry, it's actually a lot more substantial
than a lot of last album 'Pipes Of Peace' recorded and messed around with over
a period of years. Apparently Paul never liked the song, though, and was
prepared to drop it from the film. The intervention of Ringo's new wife Barbara
Bach - who appears in the films and guests on backing vocals - changed his
mind; for that I'm hugely grateful - this song is too good to be stuck in a
vault. Find it on: The 'Give My Regards To Broad
Street' soundtrack album (1984)
[186] 'No Values' is another of the Broad Street songs and
again one of Macca's most under-valued pieces. For the first time since 'Yesterday'
the idea came to him in a dream: he and LInda were out at the Bag O'Nails Club
in London where the pair first met and watching the Rolling Stones on stage
(Paul was a friend, Linda a big fan - the Stones were her first commision as a
photographer and during the pair;s courting she often teased him that the
Stones were better than the Beatles!)Waking up, Paul found himself still
singing a song that went 'no values' and commented to LInda how much he liked
the song. When she looked blank, he dug out his Stones LPs and - not finding
the song - wrote down what he could remember. The song would indeed make a fine
Stones recording - it has the Mick Jagger swagger, the inter-weaving guitarplay
and the lyrical theme of being loveable rebellious renegades ('The Artful
Dodger says he wants to pick a pocket or two'). However where it differs is the
extreme amount of wordy lyrics and the longing middle eight that shows more
worry than the Stones ever do on their albums (their solo records, however,
are a different matter...) A glorious passage that leaves the cocksure narrator
'stranded on some distant shore', it's a poginant section that gives the song a
pathos the clever verses don't have. Reflecting on the jealousy of the poor,
the verse reflects 'I like your wife's smile, I like the car, if I had your
lifestyle I couldn't go far wrong...' The ending is fun too - with solo after
solo played by such luminaries as Dave Edmunds, Eric Stewart and Paul himself
crtiss-crossing over and over. The bootlegs reveal that this lovely finale
originally lasted for some two minutes, the ad hoc band turning into a better
'jamming' bands than Wings ever were, all three trying to outdo each other
while the rhythm section pick up the idea and run with it. Alas the 'finished' version
and the one in the film are cut short by a 'cheesy' moment whereby Paul sees
the film's loveable rogue Harry absocnding with his precious master-tapes,
letting fly a timid 'don't do it!' and calling a halt to the song. Clearly
meant as a dramatic moment, it falls very flat - we just want to hear the song
again! Find it on: The 'Give My Regards To Broad
Street' soundtrack album (1984)
[184b] 'No More Lonely Nights' - the 'Playout' version - is
less successful, being a rare and unwelcome example of Mccartney trying to be
hop. Everything so well cast in the 'Ballad' version is missing: the sincerity,
the poignancy and the melody. This re-recording is at least proof of what a
chamelon McCartney is: no one else would have two such contreasting recordings on
the same album even without creating both from gthe same basic building blocks.
The right one was chosen as the single though - this is cliched pop, perfect
for the charts in 1984 but far less inviting than a timeless classic like the
'ballad' version. Find it on: The 'Give My Regards
To Broad Street' soundtrack album (1984) and 'Wingspan' (1999)
Fans who hung around to watch the 'Broad
Stret' film credits were treated (if that's the right word) to a small extra:
an unreleased McCartney instrumental that plays over the credits. With a cry of
'bloody great lads, come on lay it on 'em!' Paul seems to be parodying a rock
and roll band before ushering in one of his most extreme genre hops with [ ] 'Goodnight Princess', another
of his roaring twenties style songs. It's a good fascimilie of the sort of
thing Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers would be dancing to during one of their
films, but has absolutely nothing to do with the film (they could have chosen
'Give My Regards To Braod Street' if they really wanted to do this sort of
thing!) Paul realised that his soundtrack album was a little too long for the
days of vinyl and something had to go - mercifully he chose this track,
although it does appear on the CD if you really need to hear it (though chances
are you don't). Find it on: The 'Give My Regards To
Broad Street' soundtrack album (1984)
Bom Bah Bum! It's the return of Rupert
The Bear, who finally saw the light of day in the hands of McCartney after
abandoned attempts in 1971 and 1979 with a whole new storyline that didn't
involve 'The King Of The Birds'. [187a] 'We All Stand Together' is, as everyone of a certain
age, a certain record collection and possibly children of their own knows, the
cornerstone of the animated short 'Rupert and the Frog Song'. In it Rupert
discovers an underground lair with a load of operatic singing frogs and somehow
still gets home in time for tea. The cartoon was well loved - about the last
time Mccartney ever got positive reviews across the board - and my non-Beatles
friends still don't believe me that Paul really did do all the voices (barring
Rupert's disbeliving mother, who everyone assumes was voiced by Linda but was
actually June Whitfield). People were less sure about the record, which
admittedly sold well (a #3 hit in the UK) but rather divided people. Should an
ex-Beatle really be spending his time on yet more children's songs after 'Mary
Had A Little Lamb' and 'Hey Diddle'? However where the song improves on both is
be being, effecticvely, 'All You Need Is Love' for a younger age market. 'Face
the game, fight the fight - but what's the point on a beautiful night?' is a
sentiment that wouldn't have sounded out of place in The Beatles' canon, while
the idea of species sticking together despite their differences is only a
comically exaggerated version of what The Beatles were all about anyway (peace,
love 'n' frogs, Ringo!) The song is also helped by one of Paul's prettier
melodies and - on his lasdt collaboration with Paul - one of George Martin's
greatest production triumphs, uniting several different Pauls, The St Paul's
Boy's Choir and vocal group The King's Singers, who swap their usual madrigals
and parlour songs for a turn as the three bass profundo frogs (they'll
re-record the Beatles songbook soon after as 'The Beatles Connection' to get
their own back!) The end result is not made for continual re-listening - and
still comes as something of a shock heard in the middle of 'All The Best' - but
it's the best of Macca's children's songs by talking up rather than down to its
audience and adding the colour and pizazz only on top of a carefully thought
out backing. Find it on: The McCartney Collection
edition of 'PIpes Of Peace', 'All The Best' (1987) and on the back of the
'Tropic Island Hum' single (2004)
Less essential - and rather rarer - is
the version of [187b] 'We All
Stand Together' heard in the credits, which is nicknamed the 'humming'
version ob the sleeve. This is basically the tidier, more well behaved version
of the song without the peaks and troughs as performed by St Pauk's Boys Choir
singing 'ee ee ee' as if they're doing an impression of Wallace and
Gromit/Alvin and the Chipmunks (delete according to location). So far the song
has yet to appear on anything except the original single, but then again it
does feature little or no input from McCartney performance-wise anyway. Find it on: the original single
'Driving Rain' (2001) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/paul-mccartney-driving-rain-2001.html
'Electric Arguments' (as 'The Fireman') (2008) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/11/news-views-and-music-issue-13a-paul.html
'Kisses On The Bottom'(2012) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/news-views-and-music-issue-141-paul.html
The Best Unreleased McCartney/Wings Recordings http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-best-unreleased-mccartney.html
A NOW COMPLETE LIST
OF PAUL McCARTNEY ARTICLES TO READ AT ALAN’S ALBUM ARCHIVES:
'McCartney' (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/news-views-and-music-issue-73-paul.html
'Ram' (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-47-paul-and-linda-mccartney-ram.html
‘Wildlife’ (1972) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/paul-mccartney-and-wings-wildlife-1972.html
'McCartney' (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/news-views-and-music-issue-73-paul.html
'Ram' (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-47-paul-and-linda-mccartney-ram.html
‘Wildlife’ (1972) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/paul-mccartney-and-wings-wildlife-1972.html
‘Red Rose Speedway’ (1973)
http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/paul-mccartney-and-wings-red-rose_2844.html
'Band On The Run' (1974) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/news-views-and-music-issue-87-paul.html
'Venus and Mars' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-64-paul-mccartney-and-wings.html
'Band On The Run' (1974) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/news-views-and-music-issue-87-paul.html
'Venus and Mars' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-64-paul-mccartney-and-wings.html
'Wings At The Speed Of
Sound' (1976) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/paul-mccartney-and-wings-at-speed-of.html
'London Town' (1978) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-71-paul-mccartney-and-wings.html
'London Town' (1978) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-71-paul-mccartney-and-wings.html
'Back To The Egg' (1979) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/wings-back-to-egg-1979-revised-review.html
'McCartney II' (Original Double Album) (1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/news-views-and-music-issue-106-paul.html
'Tug Of War' (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/news-views-and-music-issue-122-paul.html
'McCartney II' (Original Double Album) (1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/news-views-and-music-issue-106-paul.html
'Tug Of War' (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/news-views-and-music-issue-122-paul.html
'Pipes Of Peace' (1983) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/paul-mccartney-pipes-of-peace-1983.html
'Press To Play' (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/88-paul-mccartney-press-to-play-1986.html
'Flowers In The Dirt' (1989) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/08/news-views-and-music-issue-40-paul.html
'Press To Play' (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/88-paul-mccartney-press-to-play-1986.html
'Flowers In The Dirt' (1989) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/08/news-views-and-music-issue-40-paul.html
'Off The Ground' (1993) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/paul-mccartney-off-ground-1993.html
‘Flaming Pie’ (1997) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/paul-mccartney-flaming-pie-1997.html
'Driving Rain' (2001) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/paul-mccartney-driving-rain-2001.html
'Chaos and Creation In The
Back Yard' (2005) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.nl/2016/08/paul-mccartney-chaos-and-creation-in.html
'Memory Almost Full'
(2006) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/paul-mccartney-memory-almost-full-2006.html
'Electric Arguments' (as 'The Fireman') (2008) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/11/news-views-and-music-issue-13a-paul.html
'Kisses On The Bottom'(2012) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/news-views-and-music-issue-141-paul.html
'New' (2013) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2013/11/paul-mccartney-new-2013-album-review.html
‘Egypt Station’ (2018) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/09/paul-mccartney-egypt-station-2018.html
The Best Unreleased McCartney/Wings Recordings http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-best-unreleased-mccartney.html
Surviving TV and Film Footage http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/paul-mccartney-surviving-tv-appearances.html
Live/Wings Solo/Compilations/Classical
Albums Part One: 1967-1987
http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/paul-mccartney-and-bands.html
Live/Wings/Solo/Compilations/Classical/Unreleased
Albums Part Two: 1987-1997
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/paul-mccartney-and-bands_21.html
Live/Wings
Solo/Compilations/Classical Albums Part Three: 1997-2015
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/paul-mccartney-and-bands_28.html
Non-Album Recordings Part
One 1970-1984 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/paul-mccartneywings-non-album-songs.html
Non-Album Recordings Part
Two 1985-2015 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/paul-mccartney-non-album-songs-part-two.html
Essay: Not So Silly Love Songs https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/03/essay-paul-mccartneys-not-so-silly-love.html
Key Concerts and Cover Versions https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/05/paul-mccartney-five-landmark-concerts.html
Essay: Not So Silly Love Songs https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/03/essay-paul-mccartneys-not-so-silly-love.html
Key Concerts and Cover Versions https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/05/paul-mccartney-five-landmark-concerts.html
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