Paul McCartney: The Solo Years

Is there a more harshly scrutinized – and frequently misunderstood – discography in popular music than that of the cutest ex-Beatle? John's been canonized in death, and it seems like bad karma to say anything too harsh about George. Nobody expected much from Ringo, so he's always gotten a free pass. But Paul McCartney's solo projects, particularly in the 70s and 80s, became the broad side of the barn for music critics. To this day, the mere mention of Wings can bring a titter to many a rock snob.

I set out to listen to, and fully absorb, every album McCartney has made in the 43 years since the Beatles split. I've rated each album using the Rolling Stone scale – that is, from 1 to 5 stars. This list does not include live albums, film soundtracks, orchestral forays, or side projects recorded under pseudonyms. All of these albums are available on Spotify or YouTube if you care to form your own opinions, and I highly recommend taking this tour for yourself.

Now let's dig in.

McCartney, 1970

4 stars

With the Beatles kaput, Paul was finally free to sit in a room by himself and go bonkers. Few of these songs are songs at all; it’s more an abandoned sketchbook than an album. But “Maybe I’m Amazed” is evergreen, and even the thinnest goofs (“Junk”) won me over with charm and uncanny musicality.

Ram (Paul & LindaMcCartney), 1971

4 stars

Unalloyed McCartney. More professional than its predecessor but just as messy. Bursting with melodies, “Ram”is sloppy, brilliant, and as lovable as it is irritating. Every track sticks in your noggin, and every track could have been improved if Paul had a real collaborator to keep him in line. But if you don’t like “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey,” I don’t know how to talk to you.

Wild Life (Wings), 1971

2 stars

Paul only manages to give his new“band” 2 memorable tunes, and those songs close the album. Until then it’s just McCartney coasting on his cuteness, and barely. Only the adorable “Tomorrow” and the cryptically bitter “Dear Friend” save this one from being completely missable.

Red Rose Speedway (Paul McCartney & Wings), 1973

2 stars

Strike two for Wings. It’s less annoying than “Wild Life” but also more boring. “My Love” gets a pass because I have a heart, for Christ’s sake. But the laziness of the closing medley is unforgivable -- three non-songs strung together still equals 0.

Band on the Run (Paul McCartney& Wings), 1973

4½ stars

Now this is more like it. From the daffy title saga to the bouncy closer (“Nineteen Hundred and Eight-Five”), it’s a master class in popular songwriting. “Jet” rocks, “Bluebird” is a winning James Taylor impersonation, and “Let Me Roll It” proves Paul has soul. Nearly perfect.

Venus and Mars (Wings), 1975

3½ stars

Paul really wants us to think Wings is a real band, so he lets his guitarists take one turn each in the frontman spot. The results aren’t too shabby, but it’s McCartney’s show as usual. “Listen to What the Man Said” is the sweetest pop sugar ever tasted, but the real key is “Letting Go,” the great FM rock staple that never was.

Wings at the Speed of Sound (Wings), 1976

2½ stars

Almost half of the album showcases Wings’ non-Beatle personnel, with mixed results. There’s nothing wrong with silly love songs, but Linda singing lead just doesn’t pass muster. “Let ‘Em In” and “Warm and Beautiful” allow us glimpses of the genius at the helm, but more would be nice.

London Town (Wings), 1978

2½ stars

One thing you can say about it: “With a Little Luck” has perhaps the best vocal McCartney ever laid down. The rest is pleasant and forgettable, though the delectable “I’m Carrying” does deserve mention. And in case you forgot it was the late '70s, dig that smooth electric piano.

Back to the Egg (Wings), 1979

2½ stars

After hearing the record three times, I still struggled to recall more than two titles (out of fourteen). “Arrow Through Me” is expert elevator music, and "Rockestra Theme” might be a good workout soundtrack if you’re sick of “Eye of the Tiger”. None of it is great, none of it is embarrassing, and it ends sweetly with one of Paul’s 1940s pastiches. Fine.

McCartney II, 1980

2½ stars

Sitting in a room and going bonkers:the sequel. But this time it’s chilly synths instead of warm acoustics. I like the bluesy twang of “On the Way”. “Summer’s Day Song” is lovely and “Waterfalls” is the McCartney masterpiece you’ve probably never heard. But “Temporary Secretary” is easily the most infuriating tripe he ever unleashed.T ruly unique in McCartney’s large body of work, for better or worse.

Tug of War, 1982

4½ stars

Everything works. He has plenty of chances to stumble and never does. The majestic title track lives up to its anthemic ambition. The John Lennon tribute is touching and tasteful. Oddities like “Ballroom Dancing” and “The Pound is Sinking” remind us he’s still capable of surprises. And you know what? “Ebony and Ivory” makes me smile every time.

Pipes of Peace, 1983

2½ stars

This “Tug of War” sequel is a bit slicker and noticeably duller. Paul strikes gold with Michael Jackson on “Say Say Say”, one of the few times he’s ever allowed himself to be upstaged. Maybe he just didn’t realize? “The Other Me” is almost a classic but another draft of those lyrics would have helped. (Yes, I know “landed in a hole” rhymes with “a little self control”, but c’mon, it’s lazy). Also: never, ever use a children's choir. Just don't.

Press to Play, 1986

2 stars

Smells like the ‘80s. Middle age sinks in and Paul wants a hit, so he teams up with Phil Collins’ producer and makes his most sterile effort to date. Sure, some of the lyrics are impressively weird, but not enough to make you want to hear them again. The closest thing to a good song is the single,“Press”, and... I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

Choba B CCCP, 1988

3 stars

Initially released exclusively behind the Iron Curtain, this “gift” to the Russian people sees Paul ripping through some old rock 'n' roll favorites. There is an offhand, even rote quality to some of the readings, though his Little Richard remains as good as the real thing (“Lucille”). And finally getting a full recording of “Twenty Flight Rock”, the song that first impressed a teenage acquaintance named Lennon, has sentimental value to die-hards, communist or no.

Flowers in the Dirt, 1989

4 stars

McCartney strikes up a songwriting partnership with acerbic fellow Liverpudlian Elvis Costello, transparently inviting the obvious Lennon comparison.The surprise is the union exceeds expectations, especially on the instant classic “My Brave Face”. “You Want Her Too” brilliantly casts Declan as the devil on sweet Paul's shoulder, as canny a choice as having John voice the Greek chorus on “She's Leaving Home”. McCartney's solo compositions are strong too, especially the father-son ditty “Put it There”. McCartney like the album so much he was inspired to tour behind it. He's hardly left the road since.

Off the Ground, 1993

3½ stars

Two more mini-masterpieces, co-written with Costello, are the highlights of this solid set. “Hope of Deliverance” is just about perfect too, and how about the darkness that creeps into “Biker Like an Icon”? Paul is maturing, or at least becoming less afraid to go to certain places thematically, and it's encouraging. The production feels a bit flabby and soft: too much echo puts this most intimate of singers at a distance. Still, Paul's songcraft and unflappable optimism allow this one take flight.

Flaming Pie, 1997

3½ stars

An utterly charming, unambitious grab-bag, patched together from sessions with several different producers across half a decade. Surprise guest Steve Miller fits in well, especially on “Young Boy” and the enjoyable near-novelty “Used to Be Bad”. “Great Day” and “Calico Skies” sound just like escapees from 1970's McCartney, only the artist sounds a bit grayer, a bit sadder. It's not a bad thing.

Run Devil Run, 1999

4 stars

Mourning his lovely Linda, Paul reconnects with the music of his youth, covering classics by The King and Carl Perkins et al. with a crack studio crew. It easily could have been evidence of an over-the-hill ex-Fab running out of ideas. Besides, this is his second album of r'n'r covers. Instead, it astonishes. “All Shook Up” and “Honey Hush” never rocked this hard in other hands. Even the Macca originals, written to blend in with the covers, succeed, especially “What It Is”, which the singer just slaughters. Never got to see teenage Paul rock the Cavern? This is the closest you'll get.

Driving Rain, 2001

3½ stars

“Lonely Road”, mournful but propulsive, kicks off McCartney's first 21^st century statement with true grit. “From a Lover to a Friend” insists that love never dies, and I believe it. In fact, most of the record succeeds, thanks to sharp production and Paul's sticky tunes. But it rambles on longer than it needs to, spinning its wheels until finally ending on the facile 9/11 anthem “Freedom”, which leaves a sour taste. A good album that just misses being great.

Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, 2005

5 stars

His solo masterpiece. McCartney handles most of the instruments himself under the watch of aggressive producer Nigel Godrich (Beck, Radiohead). No yes-man, Godrich filters out McCartney's more cloying instincts and the results are a jolt. Most shocking is “Riding to Vanity Fair,” a bitter tale of a curdled friendship. “Jenny Wren” aches gorgeously, “Fine Line” mesmerizes, and “English Tea” is whimsical without being annoying(!) Even the romantic ballads glow with wisdom, never weighed down by excessive sentiment. It's a crowning achievement on an already heavily decorated career.

Memory Almost Full, 2007

4 stars

Paul, fully inhabiting his elder statesman status, takes us on a sunny nostalgia trip. “Vintage Clothes”, “Ever Present Past” and “That Was Me” all cast a fond eye on a life well spent. McCartney's not just looking back, though: “End of the End” touchingly essays his last wishes (“On the day that I die, I'd like jokes to be told / And stories of old to be rolled out like carpet”). As usual, there are great melodies to spare, but the most fetching is the jangly single “Dance Tonight”. And that vocal on “House of Wax”? Jesus Christ.

Kisses on the Bottom, 2012

3½ stars

Another covers project,this one has McCartney paying tribute to his parents' generation, crooning WWII-era staples like “It's Only a Paper Moon” and “Always”. These aren't interpretations; they're reenactments. Tommy LiPuma and pianist Diana Krall create a smooth jazz backdrop while McCartney does his best to give life to these well-worn, well-loved classics. The best moments are on the more obscure selections, like Frank Loesser's “More I Cannot Wish You”, which is as warm as a glass of red wine by the fireplace. One of the two originals, “My Valentine”, might even find a place in the Songbook someday. Somewhere toward the back. 

15 Albums That Changed My Life

This was in response to a Facebook meme.

THE BEACH BOYS, "PET SOUNDS" - This one took me a while. Brian Wilson's wall of sound (prettier than Phil Spector's, but also less powerful) seems to veer into near chaos at times, and the sudden shifts in tempo and mood can be jarring. But just listen to little Brian's voice reach into the falsetto on "I'm Waiting for the Day," and you'll know why the music nerds drool.

RANDY NEWMAN, "SAIL AWAY" - Though I now regard "Good Old Boys" to be the superior record, this is the one that drew me into Randy's twisted world. On this, his third LP, he laughs at the prospect of nuclear holocaust, mocks the faithful, and gets downright horny. It's as disturbing and hilarious as it sounds.

TOM PETTY, "WILDFLOWERS" - Even better than his rock opus "Damn the Torpedoes," "Wildflowers" shows Tom Petty in full bloom. Petty's never been called an original, mostly because he's not, but he does deserve more credit for his versatility. Here he recalls the British Invasion at its catchiest, Dylan at his most romantic, and Neil Young and his most lovably dopey. Rick Rubin could get into heaven on this alone.

THE BEST OF RAY CHARLES: THE ATLANTIC YEARS - This essential one-discer charts Ray's progression from Nat Cole wannabe to the Genius that everyone else wanted to be. Only "Hard Times" is missing, but that's literally the only thing not to like.DWIGHT YOAKAM, "IF THERE WAS A WAY" - My parents had this one on cassette. Dwight is country's most soulful singer (besides Charlie Rich, who was never strictly country) and its most liberal purist. He pays respect to Buck and Merle without being slavish and he's funny without being a novelty. And he scared the hell out of me in "Panic Room."

ELLIOTT SMITH, "XO" - Smith wrote melodies like McCartney and suffered like Nick Drake, resulting in some of the loveliest mope rock ever. This meant a lot to me my freshman year of college. It's lost some of its power now (have I grown, or has it shrunk?) but once upon a time I felt every note deeply.

THE BEATLES, "ANTHOLOGY 2" - The best of the three volumes, and also the most diverse, this one kept me company the winter I broke my leg. While the first Anthology showed us a cheeky boy band on the make, and the third detailed the group's painful dismantling, "Anthology 2" is the story of how the world's greatest band became its most influential. The highlight: a three-track suite exhaustively detailing the birth of "Strawberry Fields Forever." And that's not even one of their best songs.

BOB DYLAN, "BLOOD ON THE TRACKS" - Long after Dylan stopped being anyone's idea of a spokesman, or even a dependable record-maker, he delivered his mostly acoustic masterpiece. His best songs, his best singing, hell, just his best.

JACKSON BROWNE, "LATE FOR THE SKY" - If Dylan's writing can be obscure, Browne's can be almost painfully direct. Make no mistake: he's trying to break your heart. "The Late Show" and "For a Dancer" might just do the trick, but if they don't, give yourself over to "Fountain of Sorrow". Elsewhere, JB predicts the end of the world and when he finally glimpses happiness, on "Walking Slow," he's in disbelief. In the summer of 2004, I was in utter disbelief at how affecting it all was.

THE VERY BEST OF ELVIS COSTELLO - I've since neglected this in favor of about a dozen studio albums, but for me, the obsession started here. Some artists, even gifted ones, suffer from a paucity of ideas. Costello is not one of them. His only problem is finding a place to put them all. Costello throws so much at you, it would be utterly baffling if the melodies weren't so elegant in their own spiky way. This 2-disc set spans a quarter-century and runs from country and western to chamber music to new wave to jazz. Astonishingly, this is only scratching the surface.

ELTON JOHN, "MADMAN ACROSS THE WATER" - In retrospect, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" is splashier, "Tumbleweed Connection" richer, and "Captain Fantastic" more personal, but this is the one that hooked me. We all know "Tiny Dancer" and "Levon," but the good news doesn't stop there. The haunting finale does more emotional damage in less than two minutes than most songwriters can muster in a career.

STEELY DAN, "COUNTDOWN TO ECSTASY" - The band's second LP, it was their last as a real band, as future records (mostly excellent) became populated with studio musicians and guest stars. Musically, they were never more expansive, whether jamming with tasty precision ("Bodhisattva") or crafting a sweet country ballad ("Pearl of the Quarter"). It doesn't get any better than "My Old School," and by "it," I mean anything.

PAUL SIMON, "HEARTS AND BONES" - Paul Simon has said this album represents his full maturation as a lyricist, and I see what he means. Middle age, unkind to many boomers, forces Simon into a philosophical corner, where he emerges with his most intriguing set of songs. The lyrics address marriage, divorce, parenthood, the loss of our heroes, mathematics, seasonal ailments, and lyric writing itself. Not bad for the guy who once talked to lampposts.

BILLY BRAGG & WILCO, "MERMAID AVENUE" VOL. 1 & 2 - I am grouping these together because that's how I bought them. America's best post-grunge band and England's best post-punk folkie teamed up to animate the last scribblings of the great Woody Guthrie. I learned that Guthrie's talents extended far beyond hobo lullabies and socialist anthems. He could also be poetic, whimsical, even erotic. These albums represent the full and final unveiling of one of America's greatest writers.

THE BEATLES, "ABBEY ROAD" - Not satisfied with changing the face of Western music, the lads, sensing a breakup was imminent, decided to pool their considerable collective genius and give us their flawless swan song. Emphasis on "flawless." Cleanly produced, sharply played, gorgeously sung, and creatively written, it's their finest by a mile. The real test: even Ringo's song is a classic. What popular music can be, should be, and sadly, may never be again.

What I Would Have Asked Paul McCartney

This is a piece I wrote last summer.

Last night, David Letterman was given an opportunity I would figuratively kill for: he interviewed Sir Paul McCartney. The segment was decent enough, but Dave's questions were musty, forcing Paul to tell the same stories he's been telling for over 45 years now.So I decided to come up with a list of 10 questions I think might have made for a more original segment. Let me know if there's anything I missed.

1a. Your recent work has been met with much praise, whereas before, your solo work was often dismissed by critics. Have you noticed a change in the quality of your own work, or do you think critics are just susceptible to trends?
1b. Recently, do you feel reconnected with your music, or has your level of investment always been consistent?

2a. What do you do when you sit down to write a song and nothing comes? Or do you never treat it like work, and rather, wait for inspiration?
2b. Has it become harder over the years to connect with your muse?

3. You and John Lennon had a very rare creative chemistry. Did it have to be practiced or was it immediately apparent?

4. Did George Harrison ever reach out to you and John for songwriting advice? Why were there almost no collaborations between you and John and George?

5. How might the Beatles' career been different if George Martin had not been involved? Or if the group had decided to work with several different producers?

6. You have no musical training. How do you think this has shaped your approach to composition? Would training have given you direction, or would it have limited you and robbed you of discovery?

7a. You have also had songwriting partnerships with Elvis Costello and Michael Jackson. Was the process still similar to the way you and John used to write, or did it chance with each collaborator?
7b. Any collaborations you still wish to happen?

8. When you make an album today, do you have a specific goal, i.e., to do something you've never done before, or to top yourself?

9. You're a multi-instrumentalist. Which instrument is your favorite for composing?

9b. Can you remember any songs that came as the result of trying a new instrument?

10. You're known for your melodies, yet you typically play the bass, which is rhythmic. Is there a reason you prefer playing bass in live concerts?

Slight Return

Since I haven't posted in a while, I thought I'd throw up a couple of little pieces I've written lately. It's a break from my usual week-by-week format. But as I haven't posted anything since 2008, format concerns are the least of my worries. The new entries will be up in the next couple of days.

THANKSGIVING: He's Got a Way

Many of us go home for Thanksgiving. We often think of home as being a physical place, but I think it's wherever our loved ones are at any given moment. Sort of like Air Force One: it's not the president's plane, it's whatever plane the president happens to be on. This is awesome. So is Thanksgiving.

So I'll close the week out by talking about one of our greatest retired singer/songwriters: Billy Joel. William Martin Joel hasn't made an album of pop songs in 15 years, though he occasionally trots out a new single or live recording. Before he hung up his hat, he made sure he was one of the top-selling artists in history and a multiple Grammy winner. He's also a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the recipient of several honorary degrees despite being a high school dropout. So kids, if you're going to quit school, at least practice those scales.

"You're My Home" is indicative of Joel's early period. He hadn't yet found his distinctive voice, sounding thinner and less confident than the singer he'd become. It sounds strangely like Jim Croce, too, but that's not a bad thing. (A few years later, other artists would be imitating Joel; listen to Bruce Springsteen's "Hungry Heart" again).

The lyrics were Joel's way of telling his first wife that even though they ain't got money, he's so in love with his honey. "Home could be the Pennsylvania turnpike," he croons, "Indiana's early morning dew /High up in the hills of California /Home is just another word for you." Corny, yes, and Billy's admitted it, but it's true.

My brother has suggested an alarm clock that plays Billy Joel music. His reasoning, and I agree, is that you cannot wake up in a bad mood if you are listening to "Only the Good Die Young." I would never get tired of it. Christie Brinkley apparently did, but I wouldn't.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "You're My Home" by Billy Joel
AVAILABLE ON: Piano Man; iTunes

THANKSGIVING: Thank You, etc.

I truly believe it's the song, not the singer, that matters. I have to. I've bought all those Bob Dylan records. But great singers are like great salesmen, and you'll end up buying no matter what it is. This isn't to say a bad song can sound great, but something that might seem unremarkable on a lyric sheet can result in a musical performance of great emotional heft.

Take Natalie Merchant's "Kind and Generous." The top single from her 1998 album Ophelia, it reads like a Hallmark card, the sort of thing you send your grandmother after a particularly large birthday check. The words aren't overly sappy, just simple, nothing special. But Merchant's light, jazzy voice makes them soar. The melody and production, also by Merchant, are also noteworthy.

I once had a friend who, as a classically trained singer, dismissed Merchant's singing as thin and amateurish. It's true that Merchant is no Celine Dion, but isn't that precisely why she's better than Celine Dion? She has a way of caressing a melody, letting her billowing contralto wrap around the words and notes rather than pulverize them. She's no diva, and that is her talent.

The success of Merchant's solo work in the 1990s (she had previously been the lead singer of alt-rockers 10,000 Maniacs) made her one of America's top female singer-songwriters. She was a main attraction at the famous Lilith Fair late in that decade. Nobody makes more fun of Lilith Fair than me, but hell, songs like this almost make me wish they'd hold another one. Just don't tell Jewel where it'll be.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "Kind and Generous" by Natalie Merchant
AVAILABLE ON: Ophelia; iTunes

THANKSGIVING: Sweet Baby James

I heard a James Taylor song today on the radio, and I couldn't stop smiling. What is it about JT (the original JT, that is) that just oozes inner peace? It could be the even baritone voice, never cracking, never straining, never quavering in the slightest. It might be the gentle steel fingerpicking, always elegant but never smooth jazz-boring. Maybe it's the way he can write about human emotions without ever resorting to hoary cliches or, on the other end of the banality spectrum, navel-gazing confessional muck.

It's not because Taylor's personal life has been a smooth one. In the late 1960s, he was institutionalized for mental illness and drug addiction. He also lost one of the most magnificent heads of hair in pop history. A song like "Something in the Way She Moves" is so wistful, you wonder if this guy ever leaves his bed. Even when he sings a happy song like "How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)", he doesn't seem to believe the feeling will last.

I guess James Taylor makes me happy because his warm, conversational delivery makes every emotion sound natural. Emotions, even unpleasant ones, are key components of the human experience. Taylor is a singer of great emotional power who never seems to get overwhelmed by it, always staying calm and encouraging us to do the same.

On this Thanksgiving week, my thoughts turn to "Shower the People," Taylor's hit from 1976. In one of his most sweeping and nicely harmonized choruses, he encourages us to tell those we love just how we feel about them. "Things are gonna work out fine" if we let those feelings come out every now and then. It might be true that all we need is love, but it doesn't do us any good if we keep it to ourselves.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "Shower the People" by James Taylor
AVAILABLE ON: In the Pocket; iTunes