17 April : McCartney

This is a weird one. In some ways, this isn’t an album at all, in the sense of a collection of finished and polished songs, and it got panned at the time for it. It’s a collection of home recordings by Paul McCartney on which he plays all the instruments. The only other musical presence is Linda who adds some harmony vocals.

Prior to release a production polish was put on it, but it remains at heart something not far removed from a set of demos.

It’s also a break up album. All of the songs were written and recorded during and following the disintegration of The Beatles, when Paul and Linda retreated to Kintyre. Lyrically it is very personal.

I used to ride on my fast city line
Singing songs that I thought were mine alone, alone
Now let me lie with my love for the time
I am home (home), home (home), home

I came to this with no expectations, having never heard any of it before except Maybe I’m Amazed. I wasn’t sure about it the first time through, largely because of it’s makeshift qualities. The second time through I was drawn in. It has all the qualities that I’d associate with McCartney at his best, especially his instinctive musicality. Even in rough form you can hear his talent in his gift for melody and the passing chords he uses in the arrangements. Given his qualities as a bass player, it comes as no surprise to find Macca knows his way around an electric six string too (though his drumming ability was rudimentary).

When it comes down to it, the aspects that first sound odd about a relatively rough home recording are the qualities that make it personal and involving. There is no sense of there being a layer of production between the listener and McCartney; there is very little studio artifice about the record.

It contrasts favourably with John Lennon’s output at the time: unlike Lennon, Paul clearly did not think he had anything to prove and, in that sense at least (though no other), the LP has similarities with Ringo’s Sentimental Journey.

Lennon and his acolytes professed to sneer at both Ringo and Paul’s efforts while John and Yoko were off primal screaming. Lennon and his acolytes were wrong. The first thing I did after my second listen was to play it all again.

I listened on Spotify. There is also a YouTube playlist.