A year before Wings officially disbanded in 1981, Paul McCartney followed the same path he’d trod as the Beatles fell apart in 1969: he retreated to the studio to record an album all by himself. Much like 1970’s McCartney, McCartney II was an outlet for ideas that might not have fit his band, and an opportunity for the artist to explore more contemporary sounds. The results weren’t as organic as the earlier solo album, often leaping ahead from Wings to contemporary synthesizer-influenced arrangements that, like many records from the 1980s, have aged poorly. Still, McCartney’s catchy hooks and memorable melodies were delivered with a crowd-pleasing smile. The album’s hit, “Coming Up,†scored on the UK charts and was in regular rotation on MTV, but it was a live version recorded by Wings that scored stateside. A second single, “Waterfall,†scored in the UK, but only grazed the bottom of the U.S. chart.
The experimental sides feel as if McCartney needed to prove he was more than a Top 40 hit-maker, but they aren’t particularly convincing. The repetitive, droning chorus of “Temporary Secretary†sounds like a cut-rate mash-up of Kraftwerk and Devo, the instrumentals “Front Parlour†and “Frozen Jap†sound like something scratched out on a toy Casio keyboard, and “Summer’s Day Song†is thin and unfinished. Better are the spare blues of “On the Way†and back-to-roots finish of “Nobody Knows,†trading production value for a peek behind the curtain of McCartney’s stage polish. The acoustic closer, “One of These Days,†though not one of McCartney’s greatest lyrics, does provide a moment of reconciliation with the life changes swirling about him.
As great as was everything Matthew Sweet gave to his third album, Girlfriend, what turned it up to eleven were the twin guitars of Richard Lloyd and the late Robert Quine. Here’s a vintage live performance of the album’s title track, with Quine’s unassuming appearance matched by the utter ferocity of his guitar playing.
McCartney’s first solo album, recorded as the Beatles were disintegrating, and released in the April 1970 slot originally slated for Let it Be, remains the least polished record in a legendary perfectionist’s career. Many of the songs, particularly the numerous instrumentals, are sketches and jams rather than finished productions, and even some of the lyrical tunes are fragments rather complete compositions. For a lesser artist this might be uninteresting, but for someone of McCartney’s stature, the album provides a candid picture of the isolation he suffered in his break with the Beatles. McCartney played all of the instruments, overdubbing on a Studer 4-track tape recorder he had installed in his home; the opening excerpt “The Lovely Linda†was the first piece he recorded, and provides a snapshot of the love that helped pull him through the darkness.
McCartney indulges his creative impulses, experimenting with verbal rhythms on the bluesy “That Would Be Something,†adding inventively sparse percussion, and creating an eerie menagerie of vibrating wine glasses. He digs deeply into the soul of his bass and rips up some twangy blues on guitar, momentarily invoking the reprise of “Sgt. Pepper†in the middle of “Momma Miss America.†The song “Teddy Boy†was rescued from the Get Back film, and the album’s most polished jewels, “Every Night†and “Maybe I’m Amazed†became popular album cuts on FM radio. The latter, among McCartney’s greatest songs, became a hit single in live form seven years later, but the original retains an intimacy that the Wings version didn’t capture.