{"id":18888,"date":"2024-01-29T07:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-01-29T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/?p=18888"},"modified":"2024-01-28T17:01:58","modified_gmt":"2024-01-28T17:01:58","slug":"best-beatles-solo-album","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/2024\/01\/29\/best-beatles-solo-album\/","title":{"rendered":"Best Beatles Solo Album?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

BAND ON THE RUN<\/strong><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Best Beatles Solo Album?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Norman Warwick thinks it probably is<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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50 years after its initial release, Paul McCartney & Wings\u2019 1973 masterpiece has aged gracefully, according to Matt Mitchell at Paste magazine, and remains a timeless document of our greatest pop songwriter\u2019s prime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Much as I loved The Beatles\u00b4 music when I as a teenager growing up in North Manchester in the sixties, I was really a far bigger fan of The Byrds, and actually only returned to my Beatles collection when Paul McCartney brought out Band On The Run.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the big bang of their break up became the starting pistol for their various solo careers, none of the foursome really leapt out of the blocks running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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As Matt Mitchell wrote in his article, it\u2019s really quite fascinating, really, how\u00a0Band on the Run\u00a0became such a smash hit. Yes, of course, Sir Paul McCartney\u2014a quarter of the greatest band in music history\u2014is at the helm, but, before December 1973, that type of leadership on a solo quest didn\u2019t always equate to a stroke of brilliance for the Fab Four. Just look at John Lennon\u2019s\u00a0Two Virgins\u00a0or\u00a0Mind Games,\u00a0or George Harrison\u2019s\u00a0Electronic Sound, Ringo Starr\u2019s\u00a0Beaucoups of Blues\u00a0or, even, McCartney\u2019s first Wings album,\u00a0Wild Life. In fact, that first handful of years after their breakup in the spring of 1970, the Beatles each took a bit to get their footing\u2014well, except for Harrison, whose\u00a0All Things Must Pass\u00a0was an aces source of mastery composed largely of tracks he was never given the green light to put on a Beatles record when they were still together.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Band on the Run, though\u2014not\u00a0Ringo\u00a0or\u00a0All Things Must Pass\u00a0or\u00a0John Lennon\/Plastic Ono Band\u2014is the greatest Beatles solo album ever put together and, just perhaps, the greatest Beatles album ever. I say this knowing full well that virtually no one will agree with me. This is a cross I\u2019ve made peace with bearing. If you are familiar with my writing, you are likely aware that\u00a0<\/em>I am a staunch McCartney stumper<\/em><\/a>\u00a0(I do have a tattoo of the \u201ccute one\u201d on my leg, after all). Even when he released the career-low\u00a0Egypt Station\u00a0just a few years ago, I was one of the few listeners who came out of the woodwork to say that \u201cFuh You\u201d is\u00a0actually\u00a0good. It\u2019s a disease to awe over the work of one man so much, and the original title of this essay was going to be something along the lines of \u201cBand on the Run\u00a0is the Best Beatles Album of All Time.\u201d I actually don\u2019t think it\u2019s a tight race, either.\u00a0All Things Must Pass\u00a0makes it interesting but, ultimately, falls short on account of it being a double-album when it could\u2019ve (and should\u2019ve) been a single LP.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I was in high school, my pal Steven and I would argue over who the best Beatle was. He\u2019d go to bat for George, and I\u2019d preach the gospel of Paul. We\u2019d fight over whether or not Rubber Soul was better than Revolver, but, usually, wind up agreeing on The White Album. I haven\u2019t seen him in four years, but I know I could call him up right now and heat up the same arguments we used to have a decade ago. Back then, all of the Beatles fans in my orbit were like that: We fought tooth and nail for our favorites, cut up the rug over what record stands above the rest. Nowadays, the discourse around the Beatles is much different; folks in my generation either love them or can\u2019t understand why the hell they\u2019re so important in the first place. At this point, it\u2019s basically a trend to tweet about how much you don\u2019t care about the Beatles. I think that\u2019s okay, such conversations don\u2019t move me into negativity. Before <\/em>Elvis<\/em><\/a> and Priscilla, millennials gave up on the King. It was only a matter of time before zoomers did the same with the Beatles.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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But, if you ask me, the Beatles still have an unshakable chokehold on music history. I mean, just look at the reception to their recent \u201cfinal\u201d song,\u00a0<\/em>\u201cNow and Then\u201d<\/em><\/a>\u2014it felt like the entire internet came together to, collectively, talk about a dinky little track that, if we\u2019re being completely honest, is no better than the lesser songs on lesser Beatles albums. Say what you want about the horrible CGI in the music video or the ethics of using AI to enliven Lennon\u2019s demo vocals, it was pretty beautiful to watch one final moment of joyous curiosity around the Beatles unfurl across social media.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wouldn\u2019t have expected the greatest band ever releasing their triumphant coda to go any differently, but it is weird that, upon the 50th anniversary of Band on the Run this winter, virtually no one is talking about it\u2014aside from here-and-there rumblings about the recent anniversary edition release that is rid of orchestral overdubs. Loving the Beatles is nothing new or interesting, but loving the solo discography of a Beatle is much rarer\u2014or, at the very least, less interesting in the larger sense of music criticism. Everyone has already poured their hearts out over the Beatles; what else is left to say about what the members got up to on their own time? Surely, there\u2019s something to say about the multi-platinum album that solidified Paul McCartney as the greatest Beatle.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

McCartney\u2019s ability to assimilate into any instrument is not undocumented territory. He famously played drums and bass guitar on \u201cThe Ballad of John and Yoko,\u201d one of the Beatles 20+ #1 hits, and he\u2019s recorded multiple solo albums alone over the last 53 years. His work on Band on the Run arrives like a magical take on his entire personal canon up until that point. He uses the experimentalism he first dabbled in on Ram, makes big noise with the spine-splitting rock theatrics of Abbey Road and distills the kind of beautiful balladry he\u2019s made into an art form. Listening to all 40 minutes of Band on the Run is like watching a genius remember that he doesn\u2019t have to drum up new material to shine brightest, that his bag of tricks is under-explored and in dire need of a revisit. Thus, the third Wings album is a revitalization of McCartney\u2019s heroism and an activated, mesmerizing opus.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the time Wings set out to record Band On The Run, they had already made Wild Life and Red Rose Speedway\u2014two records that, despite producing songs like \u201cTomorrow\u201d and \u201cMy Love,\u201d were pretty lackluster and uninspired. Where Ram and McCartney were excellent, surreal and, sometimes, abstract collections of fragmented and experimental and lovesick music, McCartney\u2019s work with Wings hadn\u2019t quite hit the mark like the world wanted it to. To boot, after Red Rose Speedway came out in April 1973 and the band completed a successful UK tour that July, drummer Denny Seiwell and guitarist Henry McCullough left the band during rehearsals for Band on the Run. Paul had made McCartney by himself (with added harmonies from his wife Linda) in a two-month frenzy after Lennon privately departed the Beatles in 1969, but it wasn\u2019t the make-or-break album that Band on the Run would wind up becoming. The stakes this time around were immeasurable, and McCartney had no time to find replacement players for Seiwell and McCullough before August 1973.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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So, Paul and, Linda (right)<\/strong> and multi-instrumentalist and ex-Moody Blues guitarist Denny Laine took to EMI\u2019s studio in Lagos, Nigeria by themselves to make\u00a0Band on the Run\u00a0together\u2014because Paul considered Lagos to be a fascinating place to record their next LP, hoping they could spend their mornings at the beach and then hole up in the studio at night. But the recording space was shit; the McCartneys were robbed at knifepoint and lost lyric sheets and demo tapes; a civil war in Nigeria had only ended in 1970, and the country was embroiled in military government corruption and rampant illnesses. EMI only had one tape machine\u2014a Studer 8-track\u2014and Wings had to stay in a house near the Ikeja airport, an hour away from the studio. Paul would also suffer a massive bronchial spasm from excess smoking in the Lagos heat and pass out while recording a vocal track.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cream drummer Ginger Baker invited Wings to make\u00a0Band on the Run\u00a0at his studio, ARC, in Ikeja, and they took him up on his offer, but only for one day. The band recorded \u201cPicasso\u2019s Last Words (Drink to Me)\u201d while there, and Baker shakes a tin can full of gravel on the song (he\u2019s credited as contributing \u201cpercussion\u201d). Wings took six weeks to record the album in Nigeria and, upon their return to England, found a letter from EMI encouraging the band not to go to Lagos due to a devastating outbreak of cholera. Eventually, the trio would have to overdub most of the record in London at George Martin\u2019s AIR Studios and, while there, would invite conductor Tony Visconti to provide orchestral arrangements from a 60-piece ensemble, ask saxophonist Howie Casey to add horn instrumentation on three songs (\u201cBluebird,\u201d \u201cMrs. Vanderbilt\u201d and \u201cJet\u201d) and the band would record all of \u201cJet.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red Rose Speedway<\/em> was a critical failure, and the whole world was watching what McCartney would drum up next\u2014and patience for him to make a masterpiece was wearing thin. In turn, Band on the Run didn\u2019t sell well upon its initial release. By the end of December 1973, the album would hit #9 on the UK Albums Chart and then, in February 1974, hit #7 on the Billboard Top LPs & Tapes chart. Singles \u201cJet\u201d and \u201cBand on the Run\u201d would help propel the album into commercial and critical good graces, with the former peaking at #7 on the Hot 100 and the latter hitting #1 (his third #1 hit since the Beatles\u2019 disbandment). Band on the Run is the kind of record that no one else in the world could have ever made. At only nine songs, it\u2019s perfect from start to finish, and it features some of the very greatest entries in the popular music canon. Especially so, side one is an unbeatable five-song run\u2014from the title track to \u201cLet Me Roll It.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, I must back up my proclamation that Band on the Run is the greatest Beatles album of all time. I think my immediate mark of support is that, truly, it is the most dynamic record any Beatle ever made after the dissolution of the band. The sights and sounds of Wings\u2019 breakthrough are orchestral, poppy and soaring. All at once, McCartney plugs in choral fragments, catchy verses, earworm melodies and a bevy of different genres. The greatness is practically embroidered onto every inch of the LP. I\u2019ve said it before and I\u2019ll say it again: Paul McCartney is the best pop songwriter of all time, and that truth is evident to the fullest extent on Band on the Run. It\u2019s the kind of project that reminds me of the Abbey Road medley, for how it so deftly weaves in and out of multi-tracked brilliance and romantic and sonic fascinations. Can you imagine if \u201cHelen Wheels\u201d had actually made the final UK tracklist (it was featured on the US release and wound up a Top 10 hit)?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arguments have been made that, while Band on the Run is sonically fabulous, the record lacks the emotional density of Lennon and Harrison\u2019s solo work. It\u2019s the same kind of conversation that\u2019s been had around McCartney\u2019s work for decades, that he\u2019s the \u201clove song guy\u201d and not an existential thinker like his former band-mates. I\u2019ve never bought much into that argument, maybe because I find Harrison\u2019s psychedelic, peace-seeking musings to be especially grating (Lennon\u2019s pretentious, post-bed protest music was pretty corny until Double Fantasy, and \u201cImagine\u201d is the worst \u201cbest\u201d song of all time). When it comes to McCartney, the profundity is not in the stories his songs have chosen to tell.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nobody, not even me, is trying to argue that \u201cMaxwell\u2019s Silver Hammer\u201d or \u201cRocky Raccoon\u201d are dashing marks of mind-altering, deep-thinking phenomena. The resonance is in the music, in the instrumentation that sends people to their knees. \u201cWhen I\u2019m Sixty-Four\u201d is sublimely existential, and its charming trio of clarinets provide unequivocal whimsy. There\u2019s a reason why \u201cHey Jude\u201d is, quintessentially, the greatest pop-rock song ever constructed; McCartney\u2019s ability to sell magic through simplicity (which is, actually, quite complex) has never been matched in the 50+ years since. He\u2019s forged his own pantheon of language before (just listen to \u201cI\u2019ve Just Seen a Face\u201d or \u201cI\u2019m Looking Through You\u201d), and his most textbook phrasings are complementary to the human condition of latching onto universality. We love these songs because they evoke the same glow of love and nuance of heartache that we\u2019ve all experienced over and over.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Band on the Run<\/em> is, however, McCartney\u2019s maturist collective statement. He\u2019d already achieved that sense of grown-up pop performance on \u201cMaybe I\u2019m Amazed\u201d three years prior but, altogether, songs like \u201cMamunia\u201d and \u201cNo Words\u201d and \u201cBluebird\u201d toed the line between stoic, serious and playful. There\u2019s a give and go on this record, punctuated by the over-the-top funk of closing track \u201cNineteen Hundred and Eighty Five,\u201d which boasts gibberish lyrics and cinematic enunciation atop an undercurrent of mellotron, organ and horns. The groove is undeniable, as McCartney assumes a bluesy, near-comical vocal affectation. And yet, there are slight harmonic breakdowns pieced together by piano chunks and escapist revelations masked by finite romance (and a perfectly placed \u201cBand on the Run\u201d outro).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A track I\u2019ve learned to hold dearly in adulthood is \u201cPicasso\u2019s Last Words (Drink to Me),\u201d the album\u2019s penultimate entry. It very well might just be McCartney\u2019s most underrated song. Actually, I\u2019ll dare to say that it might just be McCartney\u2019s best post-Beatles song. The story goes that Paul \u201csnuck\u201d onto the set of Papillon in Montego Bay, Jamaica and, upon having dinner with the film\u2019s star Dustin Hoffman, was challenged by the actor to \u201cwrite a song about anything.\u201d When Hoffman showed McCartney a magazine article about the death of Pablo Picasso\u2014pointing out his last words, \u201cDrink to me, drink to my health. You know I can\u2019t drink anymore,\u201d especially\u2014he composed a demo of the song on the spot. What stands out to me about \u201cPicasso\u2019s Last Words\u201d is the interpolations of \u201cJet\u201d and \u201cMrs. Vandebilt,\u201d and how Wings pairs it with the kind of orchestral arrangements and background sampling he and the Beatles did on Sgt. Pepper\u2019s Lonely Hearts Club Band\u2014except, this time, the work is serene and matches the energy of that of a film score more so than some type of mystical concerto. It matches the shape-shifting oeuvre of \u201cBand on the Run,\u201d but in such a way that prioritizes the act of making a song\u2019s sonic DNA into a tapestry, not a mark of pure performative showmanship.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Band on the Run<\/em> is a multi-faceted LP, too. For all of the record\u2019s daintiness (\u201cBluebird\u201d) and kooky, hyper-fixated inventiveness (\u201cPicasso\u2019s Last Words (Drink to Me),\u201d the album is downright sexy and maddening. Take lead single \u201cJet\u201d for instance: It\u2019s pure glam rock named after McCartney\u2019s dog Jet (or a pony he once owned, but who knows), and it flaunts a face-melting guitar riff paired with anthemic, coliseum-sized harmonics. Linda used a Moog for the bass line, and the song\u2019s six-string energy (paired with a horn section from Casey) unfurls into a section of \u201cooo\u2019s\u201d that are dripping in sensuality.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Likewise, \u201cLet Me Roll It\u201d is the single hottest rock song ever laid to tape\u2014and it\u2019s McCartney doing John Lennon better than Lennon himself. On top of that, it proves one thing we\u2019ve always known: Paul McCartney can run a masterclass on guitar. And when he sings \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how I feel, my heart is like a wheel\u201d in the final verse, and his octave trembles ever so slightly, there aren\u2019t many other moments in contemporary music that make my soul ache like that one. If Band on the Run is anything, it\u2019s an often-muscular, high-geared simulation of roaring, electric, deliriously feral rock \u2018n\u2019 roll.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But let\u2019s talk about the title track. Much of the song was inspired by a quote Harrison made during a Beatles business meeting, especially the line \u201cIf we ever get out of here,\u201d and period-specific drug busts, Eagles-influenced \u201cdesperado\u201d imagery and McCartney\u2019s own legal complications with pot possession charges helped inspire him to make a track that is, at its core, about a group of people busting out of prison. (This image is even more deliberate considering the album\u2019s cover, which depicts the McCartneys, Laine, Michael Parkinson, Kenny Lynch, James Coburn, Clement Freud, Christopher Lee and John Conteh as escaped convicts pinned down by a prison searchlight.)\u00a0Village Voice\u00a0critic Robert Christgau even went as far as labeling the song as being about \u201cthe oppression of rock musicians by cannabis-crazed bureaucrats,\u201d and the \u201cstuck inside these four walls\u201d line was likely reconfigured\u2014after the demos were stolen\u2014to better portray the hell of the Lagos sessions. \u201cBand on the Run\u201d employs a three-part melody through an effortless pastiche of remarkable acoustics, slide fills and multi-layered choruses. It\u2019s a menagerie of colorful, operatic movements and finesse. Laine\u2019s lead guitar is especially notable and emphasized, as are Linda\u2019s synthesizers. Couple both of those elements with Visconti\u2019s orchestrations, and you\u2019ve got pop brilliance bursting at the seams. No other rock song sounds like \u201cBand on the Run,\u201d and no other rock song ever will. It\u2019s a treasure trove.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2016, for my 18th birthday, my mom got me tickets to my first Paul McCartney concert. They were nosebleed seats in a basketball arena, so high up I could almost touch the ceiling above me. But I was so happy, so beyond moved to just be in the same room as the man whose music defined such a significant portion of my life. Going into the show, I was fully expecting \u201cHey Jude\u201d to be the song that broke me\u2014especially when the entire crowd would sing the \u201cna na na na\u201d chorus together. But, much to my own chagrin, I started weeping much earlier in the set, when\u2014already 27 songs in\u2014McCartney and his band started playing \u201cBand on the Run.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d never cried at a concert before, and I haven\u2019t since, but something about that melody change\u2014when the orchestra fades into acoustic chords trading back and forth\u2014turned me inside out. Seven years later, and I still can\u2019t quite put my finger on why \u201cBand on the Run\u201d got me the way it did. Perhaps I\u2019ll never reach a conclusion. But, if I had to guess, I\u2019d say it\u2019s the spirit of pop essentialism\u2014the way a perfect song can enter your body and rearrange the DNA within you. We\u2019ve all felt it before, and we\u2019ll all likely feel it again before we kick the bucket. In an essay he wrote about \u201cTwo of Us\u201d for his The Lyrics book, Paul once admitted that he doesn\u2019t \u201cnecessarily want meaning.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t root for meaning all the time,\u201d he said. \u201cSometimes it just feels right.\u201d When I listen to Band on the Run, that\u2019s all that matters. It just feels right<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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editors note<\/strong> My son Andrew would have been around ten or eleven when he decided he had had enough of being teased by British songwriter Gary Hall, a friend of ours for his admiration of The Beatles. Gary, whilst not as musically sound as McCartney was nevertheless a great songwriter, and a great, great voice. I always felt his demeaning of The Beatles was a little bit tongue of cheek, and he had even written a book more or less denouncing the Beatles and their legacy. Several months after the evening of the Warwick Hall debate, that was mediated by me playing the David Frost role in the talks with Nixon and was actually a good deal of knock about fun, though the argument rumbled on for a further couple of years, Andrew and I ended up at Albert Dock in Liverpool for the first concert at which McCartney sang some songs from The Beatles\u00b4 output. It was a massive gig, my son\u00b4s first stadium-style gig really and neither of us will ever forgot that night we caught the Band On The Run. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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50 years after its initial release, Paul McCartney & Wings\u2019 1973 masterpiece has aged gracefully, according to Matt Mitchell at Paste magazine, \u00a0and remains a timeless document of our greatest pop songwriter\u2019s prime.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":19084,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[71,45,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18888","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture-and-tradition","category-music","category-performing-arts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18888","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18888"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18888\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19094,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18888\/revisions\/19094"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/19084"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18888"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18888"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18888"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}