Kisses on the bottom
Charming, and definitely a music lover’s delight! “Kisses On The Bottom,†Paul McCartney’s latest vinyl album, offers so much more than his melodious voice.
The title is taken from the lyrics of the album’s first track, I’m Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter, a 1935 hit sang by Fats Waller.
Contrary to the literal meaning of the cheeky title, the album is a compilation of standards that generations of fans and musicians know and love, except for two tracks: My Valentine (featuring Eric Clapton), which he penned and performed for his third wife Nancy Shevell on their wedding day in 2009, and Only Our Hearts, featuring Stevie Wonder.
From the first to the last song, the album glues you to your seat. Not only are the selections delightfully feather-light to listen to, they are likewise superbly recorded, giving you that intimate interaction with Paul and his backup musicians.
I found his rendition of It’s Only A Paper Moon so enthralling that it left me with a smile. In Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate The Positive, one is reminded of the Beatles’ song, Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.
My Valentine is an exceptional song. It resembles most of those romantic Beatles tracks, and Paul’s vocal range is a perfect fit for it. The orchestral arrangement sounded like something that might have been played on the old Zenith radio I listened to in my growing-up years.
This is the first album where Paul, the consummate artist, has yielded the playing and arranging of this orchestral big band tunes to jazz greats like Alan Broadbent and pianist Diana Krall, with Tommy LiPuma as producer. Here, music icons Eric and Stevie lend their talents too, with Stevie playing a Disney bluebird-style harmonica part on Only Our Heart and Eric fingerpicking his guitar on My Valentine.
Students of popular music know by heart that pop and rock’s British invasion took place in the ‘60s, virtually overthrowing all the genres that had come before it. The point came when the youth exhibited abhorrence of the music of their parents and grandparents, especially that poky and feel-good sound known as the standards. The Beatles were partly accountable for this genre-overhaul feeding the energy of rock ‘n’ roll and R&B.
Paul is now 70. In some of his current concerts, his voice, while still magical, can no longer keep up with the pace. Maybe Kisses is his way of paying tribute to the music which defined his musical roots: His new album provides us a glimpse into the songwriting of the American music merchants of the ‘20s, ‘30s and ‘40s: Irving Berlin (epitomized in the album by the sweet sound of Always), Harold Arlen (Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive), and Frank Loesser (More I Cannot Wish You), to name just three.
Musical enthusiasts the world over are divided: some say Sir Paul is the Beatles’ schmaltziest purist; others consider him as a mover of the Fab Four’s more avant-garde ideas, a perception that Paul himself welcomes.
Many people will be drawn to Paul’s vocals in this album, and rightly so. For me, however, his interpretations are so breezy that the expressive pits of the songs in this album are lost in his melodic voice.
Music is not about which genre reigns supreme. Music is the universal language of the soul, the dynamic thread that weaves through and connects generations. “Kisses On The Bottom†sublimely tells us that music does not grow old; it just evolves — continuously.
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