Paul McCartney
Kisses On The Bottom

Ladies and gentlemen, let's talk about Sir Paul James McCartney, an elderly British gentleman of Scottish origin whom many of you have already heard of.

Those who, and they number in the tens of millions, have always drawn vital energy from his musical performances will be celebrating the release of a new album with his handsome name embossed on the cover. Others, considering him just another overrated or outdated guy, will be ready to pour a stream of invectives on the new project.

Those, like myself, who adore quite a bit that gentleman who has been talked about for 50 years but do not hesitate to criticize him when needed, can't resist the temptation to write 4 trite lines on the debasero about "Kisses on the Bottom," which was released only a few days ago. And here we are.

I celebrate the wonderful uselessness and lightness of the record, first of all, and applaud the attitude of the one who, despite doing this lousy trade for almost a century, still shows he enjoys singing, recording, fishing out old songs from oblivion and putting himself out there.

Easy money? Or true passion? Boldness? Great musical culture and a desire to use one's name to make it accessible to the masses?

I don't know. Likely at the basis of this collection lies a bit of all this, seasoned with the ease with which a sacred monster of the 7 notes does not limit himself to self-celebration, but jumps from POP to classical, from underground to Vintage, manifesting a versatility that's been in his DNA since he dressed as a beetle.

What I know for sure is that just 5 minutes of listening is enough to realize that the record is brilliantly played and exudes class from every pore. Extraordinary musicians, orchestrated by LiPuma (Miles Davis in his past works), and led by the now seasoned voice of old Paul, resurrect songs unknown to most which belong to the misty realm of niche classics of American popular music. The sound is on point: vintage instruments plucked with care and expertise, soft drums, winds, and strings that support without disturbing, and a piano almost always present, as should be expected. All that's missing is the crackle of vinyl grooves, but the atmosphere is absolutely that, and that noise really seems to be heard in the background.

Surprisingly, McCartney plays little or nothing, lending himself only as the lead vocal, astonishing with the skill with which he doses warm, rich tones that seemed to have been lost in recent recordings. In some passages, he seems slightly descending, but it's certainly an intentional choice, in line with the sound.

In the past, I have criticized Macca's production choices a lot, but in this case, the ten out of ten is mandatory. After all, the tracks are partly recorded at Capital Records in L.A. (what do you know), partly in NY, and mixed at the mecca of Abbey Road. What else?

In short, this CD, which certainly doesn't change the course of music history, in my opinion, is really pleasant to listen to and slightly elevates some of the artistic direction choices of the last decade that I haven't absolutely agreed with, returning fans to the freshness and brilliance of projects like "Run Devil Run." It also benefits from contributions from two mostly unknown gentlemen named Eric and Stevie.

I bought the deluxe version, which includes a couple of extra pieces, including a self-cover of the delightful swing ballad "Baby's Request." There's something a bit too sugary, indeed, and in the long run, I would have appreciated a few faster tracks. Yet the CD has been spinning at home for days and never tires.

Among the most successful tracks, I highlight "It's Only a Paper Moon" and "Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate The Positive," and I tip my hat to "My Valentine," one of the two unpublished tracks, written the other day but wonderfully on-theme in terms of sound, inspiration, and class.

Well done, Paul, you have earned my (umpteenth) applause.

Rock on!