You can buy 'Smile Away - The Alan's Album Archives Guide To The Music Of Paul McCartney' by clicking here!
Paul McCartney "Chaos and Creation In The Backyard" (2005)
Fine Line/How Kind Of
You/Jenny Wren/At The Mercy/Friends To Go/English Tea/Too Much Rain/A Certain
Softness/Riding To Vanity Fair/Follow Me/Promise To You Girl/This Never
Happened Before/Anyway
"It's
a fine line between recklessness and courage, chaos and creation, profundity
and nonsense, pop songs and nursery rhymes, simpleness and stupidity, paying
homage to your past and merely and recycling it, get it wrong and you're making
a big mistake..."
Well, I'm very sure this has never happened to me
before. Reviewing a Paul McCartney album I can't stand, I mean. Usually I'll
defend Macca and his records to anyone - even the records that nobody else would
ever defend like 'Wildlife' (under-rated second side!) and 'Driving Rain'
(emotional confessional). There are, though, times when it becomes clear that
for all his novemdecillion (real word, honest) talents Paul has one almighty
problem that prevents him from being greeted by everyone as one of the all-time
greats he so surely is. Namely that Paul has no idea what his best work is and
that he always tends to mess up somewhere with something twee and gauche, even
when there are vaults full of classic recordings begging to be let out. The recent
'Pure McCartney' compilation is a case in point: most of the worst offenders
are there (the Frog Song chorus, 'Ebony and Ivory' 'Mull Of Kintrye' 'Uncle
Albert' 'Warm and Beautiful' 'Queenie Eye' and 'Bip Bop' - now that's a
playlist to bring the true Maccaphile out in a cold sweat) as opposed to the
real unsung classics in the McCartney canon (like 'Long Haired Lady' 'Dear
Friend' 'Somebody Who Cares' and 'Through Our Love' and a million others -
seriously, there's no shortage of classics out there). Paul needs someone to
tell him 'no!' occasionally, when his twelfth idea of the day isn't up to the
first eleven or when he suddenly has plans to record the Crossroads theme at
the end of 'Venus and Mars' or songs about Koalas or Spies Likes Us or Wonderful
Xmas Times or...well, anyway, the average McCartney fan has learnt to become
immune over collecting McCartney's albums over time. We don't expect perfection
(even 'Band On The Run' has the dreadful 'Picasso's Last Words' on it), we just
get happy when the good stuff outweighs the bad. The good news is that up to
2005 it had every time, even on such slim victories as 'Pipes Of Peace' and
'Flaming Pie'.
'Chaos and Creation' though is simply dreadful, like
listening to all those worst moments of the McCartney canon you've spent your
life trying to avoid. Paul just sounds uninspired, too ready to cherry-pick his
way through past classics (lots of these songs sound like something else he's
written, though never as good) and throw a few cringe-worthy rhymes in there
too. 'How twee how me!' he sings at one stage on 'English Tea' and it's true:
this is a whole album that sounds the way ignorant reviewers are always
complaining that McCartney sounds like but actually only does around once per
album - twee and insincere. Only it's a whole album of this stuff. 'Fine Line'
is the ugliest daftest most pointless single in the McCartney collection
(seriously, even 'Mary Had A Little Lamb' has so much more soul). 'Jenny Wren'
takes the optimistic, shoulder-to-cry-on spirit of racial equality that made
'Blackbird' such a masterpiece...and ignores it in favour of a lyric about a
moping girl with a broken heart. Most of the other songs seem to be based on
the flat piano bluesy style of 'Lady Madonna' without the gender equality, wit
or talent. There are no great songs on this album, which is something that
absolutely definitely has never happened before. Even the best song ('Anyway',
you have to wait right till the end for it) would still be the weakest on most
previous (and future) McCartney albums. Paul's voice is shot, for the first
time (he'll find clever ways of covering up the fact on later albums but hasn't
admitted it to himself just yet) so these songs don't even sound as good as
they should do. He performs almost everything himself despite having one of his
best bands all revved up from a world tour and ready to perform (not that I
mind Paul on his own but this is the third album in a row and these aren't solo
sounding songs: as one of the album lyrics puts it 'It's not as good when
you're on your own'). 'Chaos and Creation' is the sort of album that would have
ended lesser careers; instead typically it got better reviews than the truly
daring and courageous albums like 'McCartney II' and 'Press To Play' because at
least critics could understand it. Sadly that's nothing to boast about, in this
case so could a two-year-old. And his dog. Or a Spice Girl.
If that sounds a bit brutal, bear in mind that this
review comes after at least twenty other McCartney reviews more respectful than
the average music fan. Everyone's allowed a bad album or two - this is it in
McCartney terms. What's more even the people involved with this album didn't
think much of it when they were making it: producer Nigel Godrich hated the
material McCartney was bringing him and encouraged Paul to either change it on
the spot or go away and try again. For a couple of years I assumed Godrich was
the album's hero who rescued this record from becoming even more mind-numbingly
awful than it was - but actually the release of the album's discarded material
on 'Memory Almost Full' (2007) suggests that maybe some of the better moments
got away. I'd love to hear the original un-cut version of the album tracks one
day, but so far perhaps surprisingly the outtakes of 'Memory Almost Full' are
some of the few McCartney sessions to have not yet leaked on bootleg. Not that
I relish having another cup of 'English Tea' anytime soon mind...Paul too,
though, seems to be in a bit of a downward writing spell judging by this
album's lyrics and seems to have made it simply because it was four years since
his last one than with any great urge to actually speak from his heart. 'How
kind of you to think of me when I was out of sorts' the second track begins, 'I
thought I was lost'. 'I can think of nothing more to say' says 'At The Mercy'
early on and the song naturally runs out of ideas soon after. 'I don't know how
long the storm will last' worries 'Friends To Go'. 'When did I begin to fall?'
worries 'Anydays'. 'I guess you'd rather see me grow...but it's time to get on
with the show' growls 'At The Mercy' again. Not half we wouldn't. 'Chaos and
Creation' is the sound of talent standing still and often that's harder to take
than no talent trying to move forwards. For perhaps the first time in his life
Paul sounds as if he's suffering from writer's block and that's a tragedy for
Paul even more than most writers, reliant as he is on sudden nuggets of
inspiration and an instinctive understanding of where to develop that first
sudden idea. No wonder, then, that he becomes so reliant on repeating past
chord changes and themes or that he spends so many of these lyrics clumsily
reaching out for the most suitable rhyme, whether it fits the songs or not.
Perhaps that's because, for the first time since his
teens (the age he is on the rather splendid album cover, taken by brother Mike
in the backyard amongst their dad's laundry - the official title is 'Our Kid
Through Mum's Net Curtains', which might have been a better name for the record),
Paul doesn't have a muse to write silly love songs to - or at least not till
near the end of the album sessions. 'I'm so used to being on my own' Paul sighs
on 'Friends To Go' but that's not strictly true. In the pre-Beatle days Paul
had Cavern regular Dot Rhone (she even went to Hamburg to visit him, alongside
Cynthia Lennon visiting John, and played a much bigger role in Beatle history
than she's given credit for). In the early Beatle days Paul had Jane Asher.
Between around 1968 and 1998 Paul was with Linda. And almost immediately with
Heather Mills until their spectacular bust-up in public and official divorce in
2006. He'd been physically living on his own for a year by the time this album
was made and clearly feeling sorry for himself and a little bit empty. After
all, at the time the album came out the Mills debacle was all anybody wanted to
talk about and any interviews weren't about the record so much as the marriage.
In days to come the split with Heather will be enough to fuel some fascinating
albums ('Memory Almost Full' and 'Electronic Arguments' especially) but for
now, caught in the middle of it all, Paul doesn't want to go there. He had,
after all, only just explored his darker side on parts of 'Driving Rain' (his
under-rated album of soul-searching post-Linda) and didn't want to go there
again so soon, especially if things still seemed like they might be repaired
with Heather. So 'Chaos and Creation'
becomes the first McCartney album to feature love songs written to order rather
than based on experience and feeling, written simply because they're the
easiest things to write than because Paul desperately needs to write them. This
album still works best, though, when there's a few hints of reality breaking
through the prettyness: 'Riding To Vanity Fair' would be a strong candidate for
a re-make one day, dealing as it does with an egotistical penny-pinching lover,
though Paul is still just about in love enough to not want to pour his heart
and soul into this lyric or vocal just yet, though you can tell he's itching to.
'Anyway' deals with loneliness and isolation from a man whose never had to deal
with such things before, waiting for a phone-call instead of being the one to
make it as in years past, though still with a hope that the call will come one
day compared to future harrowing songs.
'Promise To You Girl' makes one last
plea towards the past: 'I made my promise to you girl, I don't want to take it
back!' But take it back he will, not too far in the future, as the pair split
further and further apart and a court-case seeking half of Paul's money (overseen
by the lawyers behind the Charles and Diana split, no less) turns into the
biggest media event of the century so far. In retrospect, 'Chaos and Creation'
isn't the sound of a writer with nothing to say so much as one pretending that
there's nothing to say and going 'la la la I can't hear you!', unwilling to
face what is inevitably going to come. Even 'Fine Line', dumb single that it
is, is a man caught at a crossroads trying to make an impossible decision,
mocking his wife in song while also putting her first in the album credits.
There is, though, a bright light in the distance,
just about visible through all the gloom and fog. Paul had known Nancy Shevell
for years - she was one of Linda's friends really and spent a lot of time with
the McCartneys particularly when Linda was ill. Though dark haired and quiet
(in contrast to Linda's combative strawberry-blonde look), Nancy's strength and
comfort reminded Paul greatly of his one true love. He'd chased Heather himself
in the certainty that what he was looking for was another strong woman who
could have her own career separate from his and who knew how to stand up to
people who disagreed with her. That, though, was only part of Linda's character
that he was missing so badly: Nancy represented the quieter, supportive side of
Linda's personality whilst still being brave to say 'no!' to her millionaire
husband occasionally (she does, after all, have millions herself thanks to her
family's New England Motor Freight company so there was never any need for gold-digging
and, anyway, money can't buy anyone love). However Paul felt awkward dating his
exes' friend at first, however pleased Linda would surely have been about the
fact, and had to learn the hard way what it was he really wanted. 'Chaos and
Creation' seems to be the moment that Paul realises that he made the wrong
choice and tries to make amends and come to terms with the fact that Heather
isn't just off having a parallel career to his, she's gone and she's never
coming back. Though Paul won't officially start dating Nancy until 2007 (when
he finally admits her existence in interviews for the much more loved-up
'Memory Almost Full') she's clearly here in part of this album too - the better
part by and large. 'This Never Happened Before' is one long agonising soliloquy
as Paul wonders whether he has the nerve to ask his lover's friend out before
realising that life is short and there's no real choice. 'This is the way it
should be...now we can be what we want to be', he concludes, the slightly
defensive tone of most of the rest of the album finally dropping away from his
shoulders as he accepts that he does have a future. It's the one moment on this
album where Paul sings from the heart - and he sings like a bird, just like the
days of old (even if the melody is a direct crib from his superior and little
known 1993 B-side 'I Can't Imagine'...).
Sadly it's too little too late to save the record as
a whole (even with other album highlight 'Anyway' straight after). It speaks
volumes to me that of all the McCartney records out there it's this one that
comes with a silly fake-goldleaf inner CD tray, as if pretending to be more
substantial than it is. Or that this is the only album to date that carries a
nasty 'warning' saying that anyone who leaks this album on the internet or
illegally downloads is going to be put in a darkened room and made to suffer
'We All Stand Together' on repeat for a year or something equally horrific
(actually it just warns of 'severe and criminal penalties' but I'm sure that's
what it means really). Or that this is the only studio album not to feature an
up-to-date photo of Paul anywhere except a far-away shot on the back sleeve of
the booklet (he was really sensitive about his new hair dye in this period it
seems; Brian Clarke's pen-and-ink drawings of one of the most famous men in
modern history are awful by the way: the profile of Paul has never made him
look more like Michael Jackson, making you wonder if he copied the 'wrong' half
of the 'Girl Is Mine' picture sleeve. And why do we need three drawings of his
hands and a close-up of his watch?) McCartney's in a rare dark and nasty mood in
his life for once and sadly rather than turn that bitterness into creativity
he's in denial, with 'Chaos and Creation' is his only album to truly deliver
less value to his fans rather than more (well, that and the crooning album
'Kisses On The Bottom'). On those terms it's quite an interesting album to hear
- once anyway - in amongst McCartney's large back catalogue where no other
record sounds quite like this one - so threadbare, so empty, so clichéd, so
uninspired, so forced. The trouble is, there are so many McCartney and/or Wings
albums out there bursting at the seams that you really don't need to pay this
one more than merely a cursory glance. Now that Paul has moved on and is
happily married again he probably hasn't paid this album a second thought - and
nor, despite this typically lengthy review, should we. It's the Beatle album
(Ringo's excepted) that sounds most like a Rutles album, with bits nicked from
here, there and everywhere.
Of all the albums in the McCartney catalogue, this
is the one Lennon would surely have hated most, full of songs about people
characters that don't really exist and 'ordinary people living ordinary lives'
(oddly John seems to have missed the very 'real' feeling in 'Ram', the record
he confessed to hating most in his lifetime, though the timing of the Apple v
Beatle court case probably didn't help his temper much). You could argue that Lennon
wasn't always right: usually McCartney 'character' driven songs tend to be at
worst well made and often highly revealing in an observational way (Eleanor
Rigby wasn't a real person either, but she feels like she is the equal of any
of Lennon's songs of autobiography or compositions for Yoko). However in this
case you sense his anger would have been justified: for writers for whom their
life is art and both are everything this is a wasted opportunity - the
insecurity and loss of the late Heather Mills period would, you'd have thought,
inspired Lennon to at least a 'Walls and Bridges' (his 'Lost Weekend'
equivalent), maybe even a 'Lennon/Plastic Ono Band'. Instead 'Chaos and
Creation' is kind of like 'Mind Games', an album that's trying to bury it's head
in the sand and pretend everything's ok even after it isn't, simply because the
writer doesn't want to admit to himself or us yet that everything isn't ok.
It's not so much that this album is bad (although parts of it are very bad),
more that Paul's writing through perspiration not inspiration and is more than
ever before or since on the sort of automatic pilot that results in such clunky
couplets as 'how twee, how me!' and 'You understand which road to take - get it
wrong and it's a big mistake!' It is a fine line between chaos and creation
sometimes and longterm McCartney fans know how close he comes to dancing
between the two sometimes. 'Chaos and Creation' is the album that gets that
balance wrong more times than most, but then we shouldn't be surprised - for
the first time maybe ever (certainly since the post-Broad Street/Press To Play
thumpings of the mid-1980s) Paul is unsure of himself as a writer and every
choice he and his argumentative producer make appear to have been the wrong
ones.
'Fine Line' is a weak opening to any album, but made
all the worse by the fact that it's easily the weakest song on the first album
single - glossy ballad 'Comfort Of Love' is a far stronger commercial song,
while the experimental 'Growing Up Falling Down' has more invention across five
fascinating minutes than the whole of 'Chaos and Creation' manages in
forty-seven. When left to his own devices Paul often resorts to ugly wide open
block piano chords (think 'Lady Madonna' crossed with B-side 'I'll Give You A
Ring' and 'Temporary Secretary), but usually the basic motif allows Paul to add
lots of interesting things on top. But not here: there's a melody that sounds
like it belongs in a toddler's TV programme (maybe the birth of daughter
Beatrice in October 2003 had a bigger impact on this album than we assumed?
It's certainly smacks of 'Mary Had A Little Lamb', written for daughter Mart's
toddler years, more than any other previous solo single). As for the lyrics, a
strong start that recalls 'Waterfalls' (be brave, but be sensible say both
lyrics) ends up a gobbledegook collection of nonsense lyrics that trip us up
and confuse us with half-stories that are never explored. Who is the 'brother'
who waits to come home, all forgiven? Why did we cry when he was 'driven away'?
What is the topic that's 'more important to you'? What does the line 'every
contradiction mean the same' even mean? 'Fine Line' crosses the fine line
between reaching out for the lyrics from the air that make a pleasing
surrealist tale (as per 'I Am The Walrus' or even most of the songs on
'McCartney II') and being lazy, sketching in a song so roughly that none of the
dots are ever going to add up. Terrible in every department.
Paul revealed later that he based 'How Kind Of You'
on an expression an elderly couple he knew often used as a substitute for the
expression 'Thanks'. One of many McCartney songs about counting your blessings,
even when things look bleak, it's one of the album's better moments with an
intriguing backing of harmonium, flugelhorn and guerrero among other unusual
sounding instruments all played by Paul. One of Godrich's better ideas, it was
the producer who told the musician the song wasn't working when played on
guitar and reminded him of a recent advert he'd made for Radio 2 based around
the idea of 'music from a different angle' (for which Paul re-created 'Band On
The Run' using wine glasses and tape loops). This certainly sounds adventurous
- but sadly such production bravery is rather wasted on a song that has nothing
whatsoever to say. It's on similar theme to 'Maybe I'm Amazed' in other words -
but there the similarities between songs end, with this song full of ugly clunky
rhymes ('During the final bout...I was counted out'). Paul's narrator was having a 'long dark night'
and suffering 'the final bout' in a boxing match until someone turned up to
cheer him on, which was nice of them. There's no real passion in the lyric or
sense of gratitude heard later in songs like, err, 'Gratitude', as if Paul is
reluctant to reveal just how dark the night was or how much he needed help. Many
fans hearing this at the time assumed it was one of Paul's last love songs for
Heather and her help in keeping Paul company in the difficult days post-Linda,
but even at the time she didn't seem to fit the picture of a helpful, selfless
soul. More likely, in retrospect, that this is an early song for Nancy and that
this song is more about her helping Paul in the post-Heather days than Heather
helping Paul post-Linda. For his part Paul rubbished the idea that the song was
about Linda when the idea was put to him by a reviewer from Q Magazine, so I
won't make that mistake, admitting that the idea was 'made up' and just came to
him. Despite some woeful mistakes, 'How Kind Of You' is still amongst the best
quarter of the album.
'Jenny Wren', though, is wretched. We fans had spent
a long time longing for a sequel to 'Blackbird', a song of comfort and empathy
that represents Paul's instinctive writing at its best - especially after he
revealed it was written partly to bring a sense of peace and hope to both the
race and feminist movements. One of Paul's more accessible yet deepest songs,
'Blackbird' works on every level. 'Jenny Wren', meanwhile, barely works on any:
an ugly and forced melody is compounded by a wretched key change that comes out
of nowhere and leaves the song sounding bloated and heavy. The lyrics deal with
another girl waiting for her moment to arrive, but this one is unlikeable and
unknowable, a broken heart finding her 'casting love aside' and wearily eyeing
the poverty around her threatening to break up her home (though not trying to
do anything about it). Paul named his character after not just the bird (said
to be Paul's 'favourite' in Britain from his youth as an avid birdwatcher) but
a character in Charles Dickens' 'Our Mutual Friend', which makes this sequel
song even less original than that. 'Blackbird' managed to work as a metaphor, while
'Jenny Wren' is clearly a human despite the references to 'taking wing' she's
clearly 'like the other girls' and has a bricks and mortar 'home', not a nest. The
one heart-warming moment is the exotic solo, played by guest Pedro Eustache on
a duduk (an Armenian flute that sounds like a cross between an oboe and a
recorder), thought to be a first in Western music. The fact that it doesn't
sound like a wren in anyway (whereas 'Blackbird' almost did sound like a
blackbird, albeit a Spanish blackbird dancing on a flamenco guitar) in no ways
interferes with the fact that this is by far the best moment of the song.
Released as the second single 'Jenny Wren' limped into the top thirty (just
behind 'Fine Line') even with a major publicity blaze about the similarities to
'Blackbird'. Once again the B-sides 'Summer Of '59' (silly nostalgia) and 'I
Want You To Fly' (intriguing prog rock) beat the A-side hands down for
inventiveness and originality.
'At The Mercy' of a McCartney cliche, how could this
album go any other way? After two lines he admits he can't think of anything
more to say. No, to be fair there is a good song fighting to get out here and
though one of Paul's uglier songs in many ways, that might well be deliberate. Certainly
this track sounds a lot better to me now than it did at the time of release. In
many ways this is a sequel song to 'The Other Me' from 1983, with Paul looking
at his darker uglier side and admitting how much he's learnt through difficult
times ('To be a better man than the one you know'). There's also shades of
other, deeper McCartney tracks such as 'Every Night' ('Sometimes I'd rather run
and hide...') or the cosmic imbalance of 'Driving Rain' the album ('We can
watch the universe explode!') before Paul wearily supposes that the best thing
he can do isn't either, but to simply 'grow'.You can hear Paul trying to spark
life and brightness into the song with every verse (the parts that generally
start 'If you knew...'), but all too often he gets blown off-course and into
one of the ugliest and clichéd choruses he's ever written. We even, unusually,
get the chorus first as if Paul is showing us the caterpillar he was before he
transformed into a musical butterfly, while the ending too throws us right back
in the grips of the clichés ('I guess you'd rather see me grow' is followed,
uncomfortably, by the Sgt Peppery line, 'But now it's time to get on with the
show!'). We've commented a few times here about Paul being the ultimate Gemini,
with several projects on the go at once and projects that are usual
contradictory (breaking off from overseeing children's cartoons to write
classical requiems about death and loss), but only occasionally do we hear both
sides in the same track. 'At The Mercy' finds McCartney under the spell of two
very different songs at once and even he can't separate them out the way he
usually does so we end up with one half that's deep and emotive and one that's
thumbs-aloft and commercial and only 'playing' at being sad and wise. It's
typical of this rather schizophrenic period when Paul's heart wasn't in tandem
with his head and fascinating to study, though sadly in practice all you really
remember from this track is how many times you grown at the rhyming couplets or
cringe at the C Major piano chords that make 'Chopsticks' sounds like the
height of sophistication.
Paul said in interviews that 'Friends To Go' was his
attempt at writing a George Harrisonesque song, this being the first McCartney
album since his friend's untimely death in 2002. The piano chords do sound a
little like a jollier version of 'Hear Me Lord' (the big finale to 'All Things
Must Pass') and the glossy production is a little Travelling Wilburys, but
really melodically this just sounds like a typical period McCartney song.
Lyrically it's intriguingly Hollies-like, with a clean-cut polite grin covering
up the fact that what the narrator is up to makes him out to be something of a
naughty boy (especially 1967 period Hollies: 'When Your Lights Turned On' 'Step
Inside' and especially 'The Games We Play' are all on similar lines). Paul's
narrator is waiting for a girl's friends to go so he can see her privately,
neither of them quite ready to announce their romance to the world just yet.
It's clearly about Nancy, though Paul understandably wasn't going to let the
cat out of the bag just yet and he still worries about whether he's doing the
right thing. At one point he dodges out of sight of the 'friends' by literally
hanging down a 'slippery rope', before explaining rather unconvincingly that
he's alright on his own, honest he is, in such an unlikely '10cc I'm Not In
Love' way you're already getting the tissues ready. There's also something
deeply melancholic about the piano chords, especially when a sweet and nicely
muted brass part starts up, even though this reads like it should be a happy
and bouncy song based on happy and bouncy piano chords. Like we said, this is a
very schizophrenic album at times, this song and the last especially.
Unfortunately, again in practice that means putting up with a rather trying and
silly pop beat as well as some very teenagery lyrics before they give away to
depth again.
'English Tea' is the album's nadir - it would be
McCartney's too if I hadn't heard 'Wonderful Xmas Time' and 'Baby's Request'
again recently. A Noel Cowardesque parody, it's even more irritating and facile
than similar parodies like 'You Gave Me The Answer' and 'Honey Pie', taking as
it does the sillier side of this type of song. Macca sings in an upper class
twit style voice which is deeply grating while the lyrics simply lists
different types of English delicacies: a nanny baking fairy cakes, 'miles and
miles' of English garden and games of croquet. All very colourful, but where is
the point of all this? Are we meant to feel sorry for an innocent world that
isn't there anymore? Are we meant to laugh at the narrator's eccentricities in
the modern world? (there's no dating given in the lyrics, so it could be a
hypothetical 'then' or an unlikely 'now'). How are we meant to view the chorus
lines 'very twee, very me' - is it an in-joke or did Paul really not realise
how that this song is indeed very twee and very, well, him? Equally are the
lines 'very gay hip hip hooray' meant using the meaning of the word 'gay' then
or now (ie as meaning happy)? The worst
aspects of McCartney all in one place - a feeble lyric, an ugly and obvious set
of chord changes and a lyric seemingly cobbled together without any thought of
logic and reason - this one would have had Lennon writing stern letters to the
music magazines all over again. The only positive is that this song is probably
the only AAA song to use the word 'peradventure' (simply meaning 'perhaps') and
we like a good lexicon shuffle on our albums that leaves fans reaching for
their dictionaries.
Feeling stuck for ideas for songs, for possibly the
first time in his life, Paul reached for some of his favourite songs to see how
'they' were written. One of these was 'Smile', the Charlie Chaplin song, which
is one part 'Let It Be' (without the gospel) to one part 'Smile Away' (without
the punk rock). 'Too Much Rain' runs the original pretty close all the way
through, with Paul trying to make someone happy (himself?) because life's too
short to cry. Paul allegedly wrote this song about thinking about Heather's
problems with losing her leg and the papers picking on her - yeah, right. This
is about Heather but not in that sense - reading between the lines (as you have
to do so often on this record) this is a naturally upbeat person getting fed up
of a moaning partner, coupled with the sadness and anger that maybe they aren't
right for each other after all. On an
album where Paul doesn't sound much like himself it's a relief to hear him
going back to some strummed guitars and throw in chorus lines like 'Who wants a
happy and peaceful life? You've got to learn to laff!' The whole idea of
picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and looking forward to happier times
is so McCartney it's perhaps surprising he hadn't written a song like this
before (though some of his best compositions use similar ideas: 'Coming Up'
'Don't Let It Bring You Down' 'With A Little Luck' and 'Somebody Who Cares'
among them). Sadly this song isn't quite in that same league, sharing this
album's sense of detachment when it comes to emotion and being more pop record
than shoulder-to-lean-on. Nevertheless there's a certain deliciousness in
Paul's smile-through-tears vocal and - for once on this album - a melody that
manages to stay likeable all the way through. You only have to play this song
back to back with the fire and emotion of the similar tracks on last album
'Driving Rain', though, to see what a major change there's been in just a few
short years. McCartney is no longer in touch with his emotions but trying to
pretend that they don't exist.
'A Certain Softness' is a rare McCartney bossa nova
written in a similar style to 'And I Love Her' and may well be one of Paul's
last love songs for Heather (it's interesting how similar his love songs for
Heather are to the stormy intense ones he wrote for Jane Asher and how much
Nancy brings out his softer side, more like Linda). Paul sings about a 'certain
softness' in his partner's eyes and a 'certain sadness' that's 'got me hooked'
while he plucks up the courage to speak to her and ask her out - but is too
afraid his voice will 'break the spell'. Like 'Magic' from 'Driving Rain' this
song could be about the first meeting with either Heather or Linda, with Paul
blocking both of his future partner's way and asking them to meet up with him
somewhere else later. However the 'sadness' sounds more like Heather and Paul
being impressed with the speech she gave about her life story the first time he
met her at an awards show. It's easy to imagine Paul writing this song the
night he got home while the image was still fresh in his mind - it may be that
this song was left unfinished during the making of 'Driving Rain' as, rather
unfortunately, the lines 'You know I could never betray her' (meant to be
heartfelt here) take on a rather mocking tone in context given what was happening
during and soon after this period. 'Softness' also makes for fascinating
comparison with John's love songs for Yoko: both Beatles write about obsession
and being unable to get a partner out of their mind, but whereas with John that
obsession drives him mad and is powerful and often brutal (see 'Don't Let Me
Down' and 'I Want You' especially), Paul's touch is softer: this love partner
isn't a vampire so much as a ghost, flitting in and out of his consciousness
haunting him and luring him onwards. Lennon would also have hated the retro
stylings of this song and seen it as an artificial way of expressing love, but
for Paul wooing a partner with romantic overtones is very much 'real' for him.
You can hear a lot more of this sort of thing on the crooning covers album
'Kisses On The Bottom' (2012), if you really have to. Quite honestly Paul's
smooching style becomes tiring across one song, never mind a whole album of
songs sounding like this.
One of the album's highlights is 'Riding To Vanity
Fair' which, not coincidentally, cuts a shade deeper than most other songs
here. Paul wrote the song first as a bouncy jolly number about overcoming
adversity until producer Godrich asked him to have another think and the song
got slowed down and given a mournful, eerie orchestral backing (which is more
'I Am The Walrus' than 'Yesterday'). The change is needed because this is a
song about seeing through people's disguises ('I'm Looking Through You' forty
years on in fact) and telling the truth, however much it hurts. The first peek
at the rift between Paul and Heather in song, Macca starts the song by
admitting 'I bit my tongue' and that for most recent years he's been in denial.
He's not yet angry - well not as angry as will be on 'Too Much Just Outtasite'
on 'Electric Arguments' - but he does feel hurt. He thought 'she' (ie Heather)
was his 'friend' first and foremost, 'but that's the trouble with friendship'
he sighs', both sides have to feel it 'or it wouldn't be right'. He can no
longer 'presume it's there' from Heather because he's now seen her in her true
colours, as an egotist with no real feelings for him, 'riding to vanity fair'.
It's worth bearing in mind how many of Paul and (especially) Linda's songs in
the past have them 'riding' away together, usually to somewhere utopian in the
heart of the country. Paul once gave Heather the same benefit of the doubt,
with 'Riding To Jaipur' on 'Driving Rain' commemorating an early holiday
together in India where the pair became close. Here, though, she's riding off
on her own, to 'Vanity Fair', leaving her husband behind alone, wondering where
she's gone. Many fans nowadays assume that Paul and Heather never really loved
each other, that Paul was on the rebound and Heather was trying to pull a
millionaire, but actually that's not true - at least on Paul's side. You don't
write love songs like 'Your Loving Flame' for someone you don't really feel
anything for. This song too tries to put the relationship in context: it was
great, once. The sun shone (always a good sign in McCartney songs), The couple
sang songs together and, tellingly, 'believed in every line'. But some
relationships aren't built to last and much as Paul's narrator tries to act as
if he doesn't care and hopes the relationship can be repaired ('I don't mind,
do what you have to do') he knows in his heart of hearts that this relationship
is over. The pair aren't even friends anymore (Paul's handy definition of which
is 'showing support to the ones that you love') and he's beginning to wonder:
were they ever? The most complex song on the album lyrically is, fittingly,
given the most complex arrangement musically with a lovely string arrangement
and a brilliant McCartney vocal, desperate to show off his usual exuberant
happy-go-lucky self but with just enough of a tear in his eye to suggest he's
only acting it. Though not a masterpiece the way that all other McCartney
albums have at least one (five minutes without much variation is a bit much),
this is a good song salvaged by a memorable arrangement and the best performance
on the album.
'Follow Me' is a sweet little song that sounded
quite promising when Paul premiered it in concert as early as 2002. Clearly
written at the high point of his relationship with Heather, it's similar to
'Your Loving Flame' in that it compares the emptiness and loneliness of life
lived solo and the hope and comfort her words bring to Paul. On the evidence of
these two songs alone you'd have to say that there was something in the McCartney-Mills
marriage, but even this early on there's also something a little upsetting
about the lyrics to 'Follow Me'. The song is clearly modelled on 'Maybe I'm
Amazed' again, but whereas Linda was right there in the thick of things
suffering along with her new husband, Heather (or her equivalent in the song at
least) is holding up signs and pointing out directions. She's not suffering
every sling and arrow that pierces his skin as if it were her own or walking
through the valley of evil side by side, she's more off in the sides pointing
out why he should be over his sadness by now. Note too that Macca never uses
the word 'love' here, even though it's arguably the most over-used word in his
discography and he's never usually afraid to use it. Instead he's looking for a
'friend'. Lasting just two and a half minutes, what sounded like a good
introduction to a song sadly ends all too soon, before the track has really got
going. The rather over-cooked band performance (well, a band of overdubbed McCartneys
anyway) also rather takes away from what sounded like a courageously simple and
direct song in concert, making it sound like a typical McCartney epic from
years past that's had its Wings clipped, in all senses of the word. Sadly too
the bad blood between Paul and Heather at the time of recording results in a
slightly uncomfortable performance (at least compared to the live ones of the
period), perhaps the difference between experiencing a love at the time and a
mere memory.
'Promise To You Girl' is a weird song even for this
album. Part thankyou, part kissoff, it varies between typical shallow McCartney
piano rocker (see the 'Tug Of War' and 'Pipes Of Peace' albums especially) and
a Queen/10cc style a capella 'production' vocal that makes you think Pauk's
about to burst into 'Beatlian Rhapsody'. The two parts never quite settle and
are at war with each other, so that you're never quite sure what you're meant
to think about things. Should we believe the occasionally bitter lyrics which
are by far the most self-aware and outwardly confessional on the album? ('I
gave my promise to you girl and I don't want to take it back!' 'Time to sweep
the fallen leaves away') Or should we believe the maniacal grin Paul seems to
be wearing throughout this song, which on first hearing sounds like the most
typically gleeful melody on the album? In truth both are right - this is a song
about denial, with a song that starts with a clearly impossible promise to
chase any dark clouds in the sky and ends with a sad declaration that 'there's
no more barking up this tree'. It's over, the narrator knows it and the girl
he's chasing realised it long before he does, but still he can't resist chasing
her one more time, just in case. It's as if Paul tried to write a sad and
gloomy ballad about his very real feelings of despair (that Queen bit at the
beginning), but his sub-conscious wouldn't let him as long as there still was a
glimmer of hope left in him. In retrospect that makes 'Promise' even sadder to
hear these many years on than the rest of the album. Listen out too for a
peculiar noise towards the end of the song, which long-term collectors of CDs
from the 1980s will recognise as the sound of an ancient disc 'sticking' in the
player as they get worn and the laser in the player doesn't work as well (early
CDs weren't built to last). It's actually quite a fitting effect, perhaps more
than Paul and Nigel realised when they chose it (probably to 'modernise' the
track up a bit), suggesting that Paul is holding something back and refusing to
let go.
'This Never Happened Before' is one of the album's
better songs with more of that traditional McCartney 'melody so rounded and
perfect and obvious it must have been existed for centuries'. Actually it has
existed for a few decades, in part at least, with the melody recalling 'Did We
Meet Somewhere Before?', a similarly moody piano-with-strings ballad from the
late Wings era that's one of the few tracks once intended for outtakes set
'Cold Cutz' still unreleased today. Unfortunately the lyrics needs a bit of
work. Paul's at a crossroads between Heather and Nancy and weighing up his
options. Though he'd left girlfriends before, he'd never left a wife before and
certainly not one with a child (Beatrice being born in 2003). Suddenly he's met
a new, more tender love and her warmth feels 'right' in a way his cold hard one
of years recent doesn't. Paul still feels guilty though, persuading himself in
the tones of all his past songs about love - that if love feels right then it
is right, isn't it?! It's hard not to feel sympathy for Macca as he croons
'Life's not so good when you're on your own, this is the way it should be!'
However he sounds far from sure, torn as he is on much of the album between
giving the past one final go or moving on to the future. Oddly Paul admitted
later that he'd 'borrowed' the main idea from listening to Burt Bacharach's
songwriting and trying to come up with something in a similar vein. In truth
it's one of the most McCartney-like moments on the record, recalling 'Only Love
Remains' in particular. Though not inventive or original enough to be a true
classic and with one oh so McCartney verse (rhyming 'be' and 'see' over and
over), this heartfelt song is easily a cut above most of the songs included here
and one of the few that would make the grade on any other McCartney set.
The album closes, sort of, with 'Anyway', another
strong song. It's a sort of mixed message ending, with Paul apparently giving
his 'old' love a final chance - but it's one she's not taking, leaving him
waiting by the phone wondering why she isn't in contact with him. The opening
is ponderous and sulky but as Paul's narrator gradually realises the call isn't
going to home he gets deeper into his thoughts and the song transforms into
something really quite special. 'Only love is strong enough' he vows, determined
not to crack under all the waiting, before wondering how on earth he became the
chaser instead of the chasee - 'When did I begin to fall?' he ponders,
wondering at what point in the relationship he went from being the hip
millionaire anyone sensible would want to spend their time with to being a
'problem' best avoided. McCartney resorts to pleading - anyway she makes the
call will do, it doesn't matter how long or short or uncaring. For someone so
used to strong communication in his life, this period must have been a blow for
McCartney: he was used to rows and disagreements (usually with Jane Asher) but
had never been given the cold shoulder before. And when you've written as many
'warm' songs oozing with love as Paul then a cold shoulder is a whole new alien
concept, leaving Paul unsure quite what to do or think or say. 'Anyway' he
keeps stuttering, breaking off his thought, convincing himself that it's ok and
she will ring, or that it's over and she won't, or that she never really loved
him in the first place or...well, anything, round and round in a vicious cycle
of his own making. It's again the sort of honest songwriting that would have
improved the alum greatly, even if the actual honest thing here is that Paul
doesn't know what he's feeling, turning between hope and disappointment as the
seconds tick by. 'I've always been singing this song' sighs McCartney, but not
on this album he hasn't - this is the sort of depth and attitude the rest of
the album would have so dearly benefitted from. Note too how much this song is
the darker twin of happy go lucky 1983 B-side 'I'll Give You A Ring' (though a
song probably written a full ten years before that), a manic piano crunching
rocker that many of the songs on this album resemble. On that song all
possibilities seem endless and there's never any doubt the girl is going to
answer the phone; here everything is doubtful, including everything that girl
has ever said to him during the course of their relationship.
The album then ends on an unexpected, anticlimatic
note, with three un-named instrumental snatches stuck together to form one
unbilled track, separated from 'Anyway' by around twenty seconds of silence.
Paul said that he had been growing bored of the usual 'write an opening song
for the album' formula and intended to start the record with the first of the instrumental
bursts heard here, 'Wildlife' style, with the others dotted across the record.
However after writing 'Fine Line' late into the album sessions he found he
didn't need a different way to start the album and that the instrumentals
didn't work in the way he'd intended. So Paul stuck them altogether as an extra
'surprise' in the manner of 'Her Majesty' on 'Abbey Road'. The first is the most
ear-catching: a funky slice of rock and soul, it recalls the heavier tracks off
'McCartney' and 'Ram' via 'Flaming Pie' and shows off what a fine and
under-rated guitarist the multi-instrumentalist McCartney is. It's a shame this
fragment didn't turn into a full song. The second part is a typical piano ballad
with a nice stinging guitar riff dancing over the top and a sense of urgency
from a bass guitar slicing the whole song in half. Again the song sounds like
it's crying out for words and a bit more direction - a more confident, happier
McCartney could have turned this piece into a number one hit in seconds. The
third part is the most avant garde, recalling the messier soundcheck jams on
the 'Tripping The Live Fantastic' album, complete with honking car horns
playing the main riff over a snarling fuzz guitar. The best thing about this
section is the drumming, perhaps the most audible of all of McCartney's drum
parts since 'McCartney II' back in 1980 and with his distinctive shuffle style.
All three in one go without a break is all a bit intense though and doesn't
quite work as well as it should.
Even with a strong end, however, there's no
mistaking the fact that at three decent songs to ten major failures this is
lower odds than any other album in the McCartney stock. There are, at least,
mitigating circumstances. Divorce and unhappiness can make or break bands and
after so recently pouring out his heart and soul post-Linda on 'Driving Rain'
Paul wasn't ready to do the same, especially because giving in to just how
depressed he was feeling in song would have revealed just how much Paul's
second marriage was in trouble. It's hard not to sympathise with Paul as he
gets his hopes raised and dashed during the course of this record, one where
he's far more of a passive character than usual, helpless as he re-acts to what
other people do to him and looking for love in his life. However, why make a
record at all? Four years was quite a gap between records for someone as
prolific as McCartney, but truly his fanbase would have waited patiently until
Paul did know what he felt enough to write about and he really didn't need the
money, even with the threat of Heather Mills taking a large chunk of it (which
was in the end foiled by his solicitors and an understanding judge). 'Chaos and
Creation' would have sounded so much more impressive as a low-quality bootleg
from a 'missing' time when Paul had lost his confidence, the same way that
1987's unreleased 'Return To Pepperland' is fascinating as a rarity but
terrible as an actual product. Too much of this album is wasted re-writing
songs that once were perfect into terrible slices of cod-Beatles cliché and are
quite frankly embarrassing for a national treasure as loved and talented as McCartney
surely is. The fact that the reviewers all lapped it up simply demonstrates the
love that was always there for Paul, underneath all the 'why is he taking up
with that gold-digging wannabe?' and 'what has he done to his hair?' jibes in
the press. We wanted Paul to be happy. We wanted things to go right. This album
sounded just happy and enough like the 'old' Paul to fool many people who
didn't listen too hard, but we true fans know the sound of a depressed,
isolated Beatle with writer's block when we hear it and never did Paul suffer
worse than on this album. Chaos and creation? Far too much chaos, nowhere near
enough creation in my book, with this Paul - perhaps the most hard-0working and
natural gifted writer of them all - at his laziest and most unsure. Come home
brother and all will be forgiven! Thankfully all will be forgiven, as things
turn out this is just a blip and even some spruced up outtakes from 'Chaos and
Creation' beat anything this sorry soggy album has to offer hands down...
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