• Paul McCartney and Wings
Geminis make quirky, inexhaustible songwriters. Former Beach Boy Brian Wilson, for example. Ageing ex-Beatle Paul McCartney for another. Both share a love for rooting around in the pop sandbox – building castles just to what they look like – often before they collapse.
McCartney – with whom I share a birthday and a love for pop songcraft – celebrates his own long solo career with this 2-CD release, Wingspan, covering two decades of music by that fabled mullet-haired rock band from the ‘70s. The music of Wings is familiar to nostalgic Filipinos and ‘70s survivors alike: it combined inventive rock with mini-epic song structures, subplots and side-turns, catchy choruses and lyrics about as meaningful as the plot of The Mummy Returns. McCartney is kind of a guilty pleasure: we all claim to prefer the much cooler Beatle icon, John Lennon. But who sold more records? This makes owning Wingspan a kind of guilty purchase as well.
But who can argue with one disc devoted solely to Wings’ "hits" (including Band on the Run, Jet, Live and Let Die, Silly Love Songs, etc.), and a second disc sampling Mr. Mac’s more "experimental" side? Clearly, the best material came right after the Beatles’ breakup in 1970: McCartney seemed bent on proving he was the Beatles. Thus, three- and four-part pop suites were in vogue, such as Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey, Back Seat of My Car, and 1975’s Rock Show. All seem like leftover goodies worthy of Abbey Road. Macca also showed a strong country feel as well, with Man We Was Lonely, Bip Bop and Heart of the Country displaying that all the songwriter needed was an acoustic guitar and a head of doggeral to really get going.
Wings soared into a glossy touring phase by 1975, with the New Orleans-tinged Venus and Mars signalling a slicker sound. Soon after, Silly Love Songs owned up to the ex-Beatles’ true intentions: bass-driven pap with increasingly saccharine lyrics. Not that anyone was greatly surprised.
McCartney can be accused of many things: squandering his talent on pop drivel, selling out his songs to Michael Jackson, making absurd videos such as Coming Up and Say, Say, Say. But for at least half of this sprawling collection, the jocular and very rich Mr. McCartney proves his musical mettle: he was capable of genuine soul shouting (modeled on Little Richard), devilish guitar hooks and an endless supply of pop ideas. Some ideas fall flat, and others – like Pipes of Peace, Girlfriend and My Love – can make you reach for the forward button on the CD player. But as one of England’s richest men, McCartney is no fool – he proves there’s lots and lots of loot to be made from silly love songs.