Even though there is not much indication of it in my July playlist, where the only McCartney track is ‘Soily’ from ‘One Hand Clapping’ found on the Archive Series edition of Wings ‘Venus And Mars,’ Paul McCartney has been in my head again this summer. Set aside the playlist selection, all that shows is that my listening explorations have finally arrived at his Wings period, after years of paying it little or no attention believing it to be his weakest period. Still, the past twelve months have definitively re-positioned Macca in my estimation, he really is the genius that his status implies so why all the previous media derision? Well, that is mostly due to the fact that he has survived, rather than offer the musical historians a neat ark of decline or fading from view, or even an ending, he has just continued for decades writing superior, melodic pop music. And he does it without trend chasing or grasping for coolness by dampening down is natural, never-ending exuberance; he just raises those thumbs, points into the camera lense with a look of mock surprise and then plays Paul McCartney songs that rock, roll, and seduce. What else would we want him to do?

It is kind of ridiculous that I am even writing this, after all The Beatles are my favorite band and Paul is, more or less, the only member of that band still active in 2022. He also happens to be one half of the legendary songwriting partnership at the center of their success, why would listening to him even be open to question? Maybe I should get back to when I first got into the Beatles myself in the late 1980s. It was John Lennon who drew me in and to a teenager, he did have the most obvious, cutting edge, rebellious appeal. McCartney at the time had acquired a bit of a reputation for putting out schmaltzy, very middle-of-the-road solo albums and with those terminally jolly public appearances, he still somehow came over as the strait-laced, do gooder for Lennon apologists to react against. No doubt I was conveniently ignoring the fact that I unconditionally loved everything the Beatles put out and Paul McCartney is a massive part of that. In fact, dig a little deeper and by the time of ‘Abbey Road,’ it is Paul who is leading the charge, Lennon had fallen behind relying on occasional flashes of brilliance to keep his contributions afloat. This was brilliantly illustrated in last years ‘Get Back’ movie in a scene where Paul gently leans on John for more new songs; all John can do is bat it away with a vague promise that when the pressure is on, he can produce the goods. In so many ways, that film re-positioned Paul McCartney’s mis-aligned place in the story back into proper, representative order.

Still though, through the 1990s my music collection consisted of everything the Beatles released, the entire John Lennon solo output, almost the entire George Harrison solo output (truly patchy after 1974) and maybe a couple of McCartney albums. I have spent the past two decades catching up however, maybe finally accepting that Wings were more than the still hard to love ‘Mull Of Kintyre’ and the punch in an Alan Partridge joke (“Wings were very much the band the Beatles could have been”) is my last step to enlightenment? I certainly enjoyed watching his headline Glastonbury set a whole lot more than I was expecting to. Again though, it was the residue of the McCartney machine that perhaps tarnished it for me last time around in 2004. At that time, I knew one of the media presenters working at Glastonbury and they confided in me their disgust that Paul’s team had spent two days in preparation on television camera angles and just 28 minutes on sound. My reaction to that broadcast in 2004 was lukewarm, I felt it was too much of a big production job rather than a live, televised concert performance direct from a field. I did not feel that this time, even though I suspect the logistics were probably similarly under tight control, I just enjoyed the privilege of getting to watch our greatest living songwriter (Bob Dylan aside arguably) playing material from his whole six-decade career. Then he brought Dave Grohl on for his first live appearance since the death of Taylor Hawkins, then Bruce Springsteen joined in, then later Paul, thanks to vocal isolation wizardry from Peter Jackson, got to sing ‘I’ve Got A Feeling’ with John Lennon once again; by that point, the emotion of it all tipped me over the edge.

This month’s playlist does feature a splattering of artists I enjoyed watching through the excellent television coverage of Glastonbury, in among the other selections. There is nothing wrong with a home festival weekend, something I have grown to quite enjoy over the years. Especially now that you have some control over the performances and stages you tune in to; gone are the days of cursing the BBC for repeatedly switching to Basement Jaxx whilst David Bowie is playing a spectacular headline set on the main stage. It is easy to forget there was once resistance to the presence of TV cameras pointing at a festival stage. I saw the Wonder Stuff headline at the Feile Festival in Ireland in 1992, during which Miles Hunt took exception to the cameras showing his band on the large video screens and got them turned off; one of numerous decisions that probably ensured his bands descent back into the indie rock margins. A decade later Mike Scott of the Waterboys sent the cameras packing from a headline set at the Cambridge Folk Festival, offering by way of explanation “I thought we were here for a gig, not a video shoot.” My first Glastonbury was actually the first year, 1994, when the festival was broadcast on TV. Saturday nights headliner, Elvis Costello & The Attractions, did not appear on Channel Four though, filming not allowed on the basis that Elvis would not “play for armchair hippies.” It should be noted that this was one of many opinions Elvis would later dial back on, his non-headline Glastonbury sets years later allowed full coverage on the BBC. Elvis Costello of course (great songwriter incidentally, also appears in the playlist) is the polar opposite to Paul McCartney in his media appearances, where he often offers forthright opinions seemingly intent on starting a fight. Could it be McCartney suffered for just being too damn agreeable? More like he was too damn good for the critics to manage, as Elvis Costello once observed, music critics are nothing more than failed musicians. Enjoy the playlist…