I hate oral histories.

But I love “Venus and Mars.”

“McCartney” was unduly slagged because it came out nearly simultaneously with “Let It Be.” People thought Paul was employing first mover advantage, making a statement, separating himself from the group even though it was John who said he was out of the band first.

Yes, Paul goes on record about that here.

There’s more than “Maybe I’m Amazed” on Paul’s solo debut. Go back to “Every Night” and “That Would Be Something,” there’s no one on the planet who can equal the sparse sound and mood of these tracks, and while I’m at it I’ll add in “Junk” and “Teddy Boy” too. Even “Kreen-Akrore.” If you can slow down enough to listen to “McCartney,” hopefully on a system that can render its sonic quality, you will be amazed.

As for “Ram”… I cottoned to it decades later, but it was obvious and in your face in a way that “McCartney” was not. I always liked “Too Many People,” but I don’t think I ever need to hear “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” ever again, it was played into the ground back in the seventies. Maybe the first twenty five times it was okay, but after that… “Monkberry Moon Delight”? Sounds good, but ultimately too light. However, in this book the derivation of this song is explained. The last song rocks, “The Back Seat of My Car,” but overall “Ram” was evidence of the naysayers’ take on Paul, that he was too lightweight, there was not soul-searching depth, which John Lennon provided.

As for Wings’ debut, “Wild Life,” the less said the better. Even though this book says that people have come to it, I don’t know anyone who has. This was a dud when it was released back in ’71 and it still is. That’s a good idea, dash off a record with no hits, no tracks that stick in your brain, it’s a failed experiment, done quickly and forgotten just about as fast.

However “Red Rose Speedway”…

You find out why it was called that, even better, you find out the history of “Power Cut.” On that pop-up van tour, Wings’ first, there were issues with power in the U.K. Miners on strike, Maggie Thatcher sticking it to them… Funnily enough, this period comes up constantly in English TV, but in the pre-internet era, the blackouts just didn’t penetrate the U.S.

But “Red Rose Speedway” does include “My Love,” an execrable piece of crap. Once was enough on this one, pure schmaltz. But this book goes on ad infinitum lauding it.

However…

“Red Rose Speedway” starts off with “Big Barn Bed,” which is the kind of track you hear once and then jones for, turning the dial, hoping some station will play it again. It was never a single, it’s not unknown, but not everybody knows it. It’s exuberant, it’s got McCartney’s patented tossed-off vocals and a finish with harmonies… I’ve never burned out on “Big Barn Bed,” it’s a stone cold classic in my world.

And then came “Band on the Run.”

No one expected it. The last hit was “My Love.” And the recent albums were uneven at best. But “Rolling Stone” named it one of the best of the year just after it came out, at the end of the year. “Helen Wheels” had gotten airplay, but nothing else from “Band on the Run” made it to the airwaves for months. So “Band on the Run,” the opening track, was a secret. You dropped the needle and reveled. And “Let Me Roll It,” at the end of side one, was a perfect companion to “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” at the end of side one of “Abbey Road.” Both extended numbers that twist your guts, in a good way, that take you away from everyday life.

But how do you follow up a stone cold smash? An album with no filler, a complete surprise considering what came before…it’s nearly impossible to do. But then came “Venus and Mars.”

Sure, the single was “Listen to What the Man Said,” which was light and not truly representative of the rest of the record. Yes, “Venus and Mars” was a summer album, released at the end of May 1975, it was upbeat more than dark, but… The songs no one ever talks about…god. “You Gave Me the Answer” sounds straight off the White Album. “Magneto and Titanium Man” is a fantasy that only Paul could construct, never mind the way he sings about being involved in a robbery… Jimmy McCulloch tears through “Medicine Jar,” we knew him from Thunderclap Newman, we knew he had substance abuse problems, it’s not a Paul song, but I love it.

The “Venus and Mars (Reprise)” is better than the version that opens the album. It’s ethereal, like it was cut in a cathedral. “Call Me Back Again” features stop/start elements similar to “Let Me Roll It,” Paul showing his rock and roll roots, his fifties rock and roll roots.

And I could name a few more songs on the LP, but I’m just going to go on about my absolute favorite, “Letting Go.” Man, it’ll shake your house if you’ve got speakers with bottom. They talk about it in the book, McCartney wants to recut it, but drummer Geoff Britton, whose tenure in Wings was brief, says absolutely not. Turns out they were going for an Al Green vibe…something I never realized…and Britton had a roadie retrieve one of Green’s albums to play alongside and everybody agreed they’d nailed it. And so do I!

Unfortunately, they don’t go through every track of every album, which is disappointing. I did learn this nugget about “Letting Go,” and someone referenced the voices at the end of “Big Barn Bed,” in the coda, how Linda’s vocal enriched the sound, and I agree, however… The nuggets were mainly about the obvious cuts, but they are there.

As for “At the Speed of Sound”… The book goes overboard in trying to defend “Silly Love Songs,” but there are no words about Denny Laine’s exquisite “Time to Hide” or Paul’s dreamy closer, “Warm and Beautiful.” I liked “At the Speed of Sound,” but it was definitely a comedown from “Band on the Run” and “Venus and Mars.” Not quite slight, yet too often light, and no one can rationalize the inclusion of Linda’s “Cook of the House,” but it’s hard to stay at the top.

But then things got worse. The only truly memorable song on “London Town” is the title track, which has just an amazing sound, so rich and moody and… Sure, the album does include “With a Little Luck,” which I see as a parallel to “Listen to What the Man Said”…in that they’re both catchy pop songs, but they’ve got the nutritional value of an Oreo. Sure, Paul can throw off hits at will, but we expect the bar to be set higher.

As for “Back to the Egg,” the less said the better. And in this case, McCartney tends to agree. But then there’s a reappraisal… Yup, everything McCartney does is godhead.

So have I established my bona fides? Proven I’m enough of a McCartney fan?

As for an oral history… It’s the lazy way to construct a book. With not only conflicting viewpoints, but timing is not always clear and there’s a lot of repetition and I’d much rather read a narrative book about Wings by one person. The story, from soup to nuts. Hopefully, with a bit of criticism involved.

Now Paul starts by saying the book is a companion to a Morgan Neville film, which I’m sure will be better than this book.

And there’s some rationalization about starting from the beginning of Paul’s solo career, but really it’s not Wings on those first two LPs, but I wanted to read the stories anyway.

And I learned a bunch of stuff. More about the retreat to Scotland after the Beatles broke up, and McCartney family life. How “Junior’s Farm” was inspired by the owner of a farm they were staying at outside of Nashville…

There are definitely morsels. And for a while there, you’re intrigued. You know so much, but you’re dying for these little nuggets, to fill out your knowledge of Paul and his efforts.

So I was so into the story that at first I wasn’t bugged by the oral history format, but then…

You start to realize that this book is essentially hagiography. We already know Paul is great, as good as they get, a legendary icon. But they keep pouring it on, how creative he is, what a genius he is, how he can write songs on the spot. And Linda is an angel and they’re both such good parents and…

By time you finish the book you want to puke. Did anybody think about how the audience would receive these words? I’m not saying I need dirt, but no man is as good as they portray Paul in this book. Ultimately it’s a pain to finish.

And there’s absolutely no insight if it would reflect negatively on Paul. Band members keep leaving… It’s obvious if you know rock and roll… The musicians wanted to WORK! Not only record, but go out on the road and play. But Paul just wants to live the domestic life in Scotland, as they hang out, waiting for something to happen, and it’s TORTURE!

But Paul can’t see it, because he’s so damn perfect, raising his kids, being a sheep farmer, writing all that music… Who could handle all these hiatuses? No wonder all these players quit.

But all Paul can seem to say is they were disloyal. That they let him down. B.S.

If you’re a big Wings fan, maybe… If you’re not, NO WAY! Do not bother with this book.

They’re so proud of collecting all these stories. But few of the speakers are rendered in 3-D. They just weigh in about Paul.

Truly only one story stuck with me, sits in my brain. The band is playing a gig and Jimmy McCulloch won’t leave his dressing room for an encore. Paul ultimately hits him to get him to come back on the stage. I wanted more of that story… You hit him? How hard? Where? Was it a fist or a slap? McCartney doesn’t tell us, just goes on about how Jimmy didn’t get along with his father.

But if you’re looking for other faux pas, you won’t find them in this book.

Man, I’d like to penetrate Paul, truly find out what it was like being the center of attention, still being the center of attention. How do you cope? Did you get depressed? Who did you talk to about your problems? Very few have experienced this level of success, in the case of the Beatles, absolutely no one. I mean what’s it like being Paul McCartney, on the inside? All we get here is kisses on the bottom.

But, at the Capitol Congress a few years back, Paul told a story about taking the jitney in from the Hamptons to the city, and then taking a bus uptown. You won’t get anybody on the Grammy show on the jitney, never mind a bus. No, they want to be separate from the people. I’d like to know more about how Paul got over his fear of the public after John was shot, which is referenced here.

Now the book goes on about the creation of album covers and marketing materials and ultimately that is what this book is, part of the endless onslaught of marketing for the movie, just another product, not the deep down truth.

There is some truth in “Wings: The Story of a Band on the Run,” but just not enough. It ultimately creates distance between the reader and Paul, it’s like they circled the wagons and anybody who weighed in had to pay fealty. I won’t say it’s a circle jerk, but it is a missed opportunity. It’s more than a concert tour program, but it reads like one.

I’m glad I picked up some tidbits, some history, but I wish it hadn’t taken 550 pages to get it. Too much surface, not enough depth. I wanted more, and if the people responsible for this book continue to be in control of Paul’s legacy, I doubt I’ll get it.

https://people.com/what-is-the-turning-point-usa-half-time-show-11898234

Well, we’re Americans too. Black, brown, immigrants, foreign-language speaking people…

Sun Tzu says “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

Want to make a statement? Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, Kendrick Lamar, they should all petition to be on the Turning Point USA halftime show.

That’s right, weren’t all of us supposedly unAmericans not properly righteous, not paying fealty to Charlie Kirk? It’s time to embrace Turning Point USA, so that it can truly represent all Americans.

WHAT?

All that ICE virtue signaling on the Grammys was worthless. I need you to watch Bill Maher’s New Rules on this:

Isn’t the goal of activism to change people’s minds?

I don’t think anyone did this at the Grammys. It was self-righteous virtual-signaling. Making real change, that requires you to put your reputation on the line, and none of these acts are willing to do this.

And, most of them are empty vessels anyway, they don’t radiate any intelligence, so their words have no impact. You’re going to take advice from these nitwits?

I don’t expect this alternative halftime show to garner many eyeballs, but that’s not what it’s about. It’s a press story. Why can only the right play this game?

Irrelevant of whether any people of color perform at this rinky-dink event, their offer to do so will become big time news. That’s how you fight fire…WITH FIRE!

Maybe get all those ICE OUT pin wearing acts at the Grammys to all volunteer to play the show. But certainly we need some names.

The key is to get them on the back foot, responding, why do Democrats always have to play defense?

It’s about shame… When acts of color offer to do the show and Turning Point USA turns them down, how are they going to deny that they’re racist, with roots in white nationalism? Real Americans my ass.

This event can be neutered, made a laughingstock of, showing how small-minded these people are. And if they decide to accept the challenge, and acts of color are featured, all the better, it shows that progress has been made.

Who are the major acts who are going to pony up, offer to do this Turning Point show?

None of them.

That’s right, they’re too busy worrying about what to wear than to enter the fray… They don’t want to stand out, they want to be protected by the group, they don’t want to associate with THOSE people.

A winning strategy for moving the ball?

NO!

On the other hand…

I mean I’m sitting there at Musicares… All those label people? They don’t attend anymore, that’s not where the money is, it’s all in live. And Mariah Carey was honored and it was weird, because everybody involved in breaking her was not there. Donnie Ienner worked me hard on “Vision of Love,” and needless to say Tommy Mottola was in a relationship with Mariah, married her…

So it made me feel old. Like the music world had passed me by.

And then I went to the Troubadour last night.

Sitting up in the bleachers I had a long conversation with David Macias, whose Thirty Tigers is the bleeding edge of quality distribution. What I mean is…if he’s involved, it’s worth paying attention… All the acts the majors no longer invest in, he’s the man… Like with Lucinda Williams. He’s even got an Amy Grant album coming out.

And David started philosophizing, about today’s music being regressive, that’s the word he used. How it was looking backwards, he wanted to put out records that were something new, that pushed the envelope, and he’s working on that.

But ultimately the show began.

I mean get old enough, and you start to feel removed.

But last night’s show reinvigorated me, illustrated that the problem was not me, but the music being purveyed by the big time industry.

There were no hard drives. People played their instruments. The music was alive and it breathed.

And rather than dancing queens, we got endless ladies who showed how far women in music have come.

All I can say is you have to see Rhiannon Giddens to get her. The passion…she was in the moment, she melded with the music, it was riveting.

Sierra Hull performed the one song I was hoping to hear, “Look Out for My Love,” which Linda Ronstadt covered so exquisitely on her “new wave” album “Mad Love.” Check it out if you don’t know this version, it amps up the song, gives it added gravitas.

Chris Pierce? I’d never heard of the guy, but he channeled Paul Robeson doing “Ol’ Man River,” only in this case it was “Southern Man,” which Pierce slowed down to a dirge and bellowed…it was like watching a movie, it was more than the song, more than a performance, it was a PRESENCE!

Margo Price… Speaking of Ronstadt, Margo did “Love is a Rose” and evidenced such charisma that when she was gone you could feel the absence, she is a star.

Molly Tuttle made me like a song I never did. She took “Helpless” out of the ether with a more full-bodied version than the original. And she picked a few notes to boot. Everybody could play. Sierra Hull…

Maggie Rose belted the choruses of “Down By the River,” and urged those in attendance to join along, and I don’t know about everybody else, but I could not hold myself back.

Katie Pruitt I’d never heard of, but she picked the notes in “Ohio”… And even though it’s over half a century old, I felt the spirit of Minneapolis in the room.

Young the Giant? I never got them, but they sang a powerful version of “Old Man” that had me reflecting on my own life, where I’d been, who I am now… That’s what we want from music, to set our minds free, so they can float down the river of thought..

Jesse Welles, the man of the moment, did “After the Gold Rush” and didn’t walk off immediately, so I thought he was going to break into his anti-ICE song, but alas, that did not happen.

Grace Potter evidenced more spirit, more of the rock and roll ethos than any woman I saw on the Grammy telecast. You could tell it was coming from deep inside, her soul, she was a rock chick, there was nothing calculated about her performance whatsoever.

And there was Sara Watkins and the Milk Carton Kids and even more, but all I can tell you is I started off the show at a distance, but about a third of the way in I was totally involved, I became one with the music… No, it was more than that, it was the atmosphere, the vibe, like David Byrne once sang, it was the same as it ever was.

Yet it wasn’t old farts, but young ‘uns. Just when I thought the formula was lost, I found that it had been channeled by a younger generation, removed from the vapid, cringe-worthy mainstream, keeping it alive and extending it. These people could play and sing and there was no dancing involved… It was about the music, pure and simple, nothing more was necessary, and it touched every single person in the place.

At dinner we were talking about how hard it is to get us out. Because we’ve seen all the acts, in their heyday, and the new ones…

When I left the Troubadour last night there was a bounce in my step. I felt not only did the people and the music still have it, but SO DID I! I may be closer to death, but everything that excited me, that drew me to the sound, was still there, alive and cooking.

I only wish you were there.

What kind of crazy, f*cked up world do we live in where Reba McEntire is the highlight of the Grammys?

One in which “popular” music is vapid, two-dimensional tripe evidencing the worst tropes of the past three decades.

Yup, like Mariah Carey being honored at Musicares… A dud of an evening. Normally people are on their feet, mixing it up, it’s a concert, but Friday night? Dullsville. You wanna know why? Because she has no fans. No hardcore army. She’s burned those she had out, as for the rest of us, we wince and pass by. But on singing TV shows… It became about range, melisma, and those are the penumbra as opposed to the heart.

The heart is the song. With melody. That people can sing along to. A number with changes that sticks in your head.

Now normally I don’t watch the Grammys, however… Our internet has been down, and the Spectrum repairman was supposed to come between five and six and he was delayed and I ended up seeing too much of this show.

Now youngsters are not going to watch. They never do. They believe in an on demand world. They’ll see the clips later if anything truly noteworthy happens. But this show was skewed young and it was just creepy.

Sabrina Carpenter… I mean really? She’s the Great White Hope of the industry, everybody is saying how great she is, but she looks like a flight attendant doing karaoke.

As for Bruno Mars… I mean it was a novelty when NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys danced, and MTV had evolved into mass dance before that, but mostly with Janet Jackson and other members of the rhythm nation. I mean this is the best we can do? A revue? Little different from the crap purveyed before the Beatles broke the world wide open?

Of course Bruno is talented, but he’s got no soul… I don’t mean soul music, I mean meaning, something more than skin deep. It’s all show. There’s a market for that, but that’s not what blew this business up, that was about speaking individual truth and leading the public, opening people’s eyes, not just being the soundtrack to their lives.

As for the New Artist nominees… Execrable in most cases. If these people are gonna last, we’re doomed. One knew Olivia Dean was gonna win before they even ripped open the envelope. I mean she’s in the real music world, the rest are just caricatures. As for Lola Young, “Messy” is great, the rest not so much.

I applaud Bad Bunny.

But then you’ve got nitwit Billie Eilish saying “No one is illegal on stolen land.” God, it makes me feel good I’m educated. That’s right, we’ll lump every cause together as you shed a tear, as you talk about immigrants, obliquely referencing what is going on in Minneapolis with ICE. Why don’t you just come out and say it instead of virtue signaling. The plight of Native Americans is a big issue, but please, follow Don Henley to the heart of the matter.

And you may criticize me for giving Eilish sh*t, picking nits, but she’s been working on her career since her early years, I don’t think she’s ever read a book, there’s nothing that evidences she has. Don Henley saved Walden Woods, Billie Elish saved the stylist who came up with her baggy clothes and multi-colored hair.

Don’t tell me to be nice. It’s they little things that separate legendary from pedestrian. As for Justin Bieber… You may have seen him on Letterman talking about his tattoos, Dave telling him not to go all Sistine Chapel on himself. Bieber? He called it the SIXTEENTH CHAPEL!

These are our “leaders,” watch the parking meters.

Tonight’s show was straight out of the sixties, a variety conglomeration that tries to cover all the bases and appeals to no one. There’s no edge, no gravitas. Until…

Reba McEntire hit the stage. I was never a fan and she’s taken the plastic surgery too far, but…

She can sing. Seemingly better than anybody who preceded her. A song with melody and changes, it’s a relief. And you’ll find more of this in country music, but hipsters in Hollywood think those people are hicks, they look down on them, which is why Morgan Wallen, the biggest act in America, didn’t submit his music, nor did Zach Bryan.

That’s right, Luminate put out its year end report. Because of endless vinyl iterations and other sales, which are unduly weighted in the bogus charts, Taylor Swift got the crown, she was number one. But in truth, Morgan had the most CONSUMPTION, the most LISTENS! And that’s all that counts.

But he’s not there.

Country and Latin, those are the stories of today’s music business, not this pop tripe. But it keeps being shoved down our throats.

But the mainstream music business is all pop, all the time…and there’s a market for that, there has been throughout time, but that’s not where passion lies, and music needs to be about passion to grow. As George Drakoulias once told me, he used to fight over records. Can you imagine fighting over a record today? In a world where backstage everybody wants to talk about streaming television and politics? And if the conversation turns to music, it’s always the same thing… MONEY! How much money is this act garnering.

The problem with music today is there’s just not enough money in it, so the best and the brightest go elsewhere. And the biggest phenomenon of the year was “KPop Demon Hunters,” which happened without industry participation…whilst Robert Kyncl and Lucian Grainge keep talking about AI. How about IDEAS?

This business is being run like it’s the last century, but it no longer is.

And since it’s easiest to sell lowest common denominator stuff, that’s what they’re focusing on.

We used to sell “Five Easy Pieces.” Now we sell the musical equivalent of Marvel movies. There’s no there there. We haven’t had a new sound in years. Just endless repetitive junk, and they keep telling us it’s good as fewer and fewer people pay attention. I mean if you were a newbie, in from the hinterlands, and you saw tonight’s acts you’d think they were cartoons. Where are the earthy people? Rockers used to have jagged teeth, even Bowie, but everybody on stage was a product of cosmetic dentistry… It’s your edges, your imperfections, that grab people. But everybody tonight was sleek and you just couldn’t hook on to them

Until Reba.

We are so far from the roots we can’t even see the garden.

You had to be brain dead to enjoy this show. You watched it from a remove, a distance… These are not your people, you can’t relate to them. If they come from the same background, they’ve long since left it behind. It’s all flash and no dirt.

But when it’s dirty, edgy and soulful…

That’s when we connect.

And that connection is everything.