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Rating: Very cold, an endless queue in the fog of a Sunday that for me is more special than ever because of its importance. A Paul McCartney concert. It's not simple fanaticism, but the realization of the importance of the person who in a few hours will be seen in the flesh... I'll see an old gentleman for sure, the ticket is expensive and many would tell me that his time has passed and he lives off the riches of a more than glorious past. All these points are reasonable but he is Paul McCartney, the greatest thing popular music has ever known, he is still alive, plays live, and so why not go see him and hear certain classics directly from the mouth of the one who created them after years of listening to them again and again on CDs, YouTube, vinyl, cover bands, and DVDs?
The concert begins more or less on time at nine and the ex-Beatle takes the stage followed by his band. It starts with "Hello Goodbye" and from the center of the parterre where I was, everything seemed like a DVD. Immersed in those verses that are now part of everyone's DNA, one lets themselves be carried away by that voice and that sound that harks back to a past now gone, leaving its imprint on the collective imagination. A musical will, a freshness, and a competence that is part of a way of making music that today has given way to mediocrity and the obscurantist impressionism of the first thing before a concert: to play.
We are certainly not at a blues or prog concert, we are in front of the QUINTESSENTIAL POPULAR, welcoming, simple, and artistic at the same time. People in their fifties with tears in their eyes because this is a demonstration that they have aged and for us young people, the bitterness of having missed all the best. The sound is beautiful, Paul has a great voice, the band is exceptional and the choirs are wonderful (perhaps the best technical aspect of the band).
One sees a youthful face on a body that moves like an old man, because Paul has aged. You can hear it in his voice, you can see it in his fingers while he plays the bass. But there is spirit, there is rock. That of audiences standing still, listening and not just moving and jumping without understanding what those for whom they have spent money and time are doing. A God among mortals he would seem, with applause for every word and a roar for every song.
Many Beatles classics in the setlist, dedications to Harrison and Lennon, and he is still alive to enjoy the fruits of music that has no time. Because last night, the only old thing was McCartney's face. This setlist is immortal, current, past, and simply unique. No artist can step onto a stage with thirty-six songs, thirty of which are classics, and still leave so many out, creating that feeling of nostalgia for 12,000 people who would have wanted so much more.
One feels compensated for the ticket price and the cold when you realize that three hours have passed to the notes of "The End". THREE HOURS. Three hours of concert by an "Old man who has nothing more to say?" Yes, indeed.
That Paul McCartney has amazing songs to play with an obviously fantastic band is well known. But then what is the point for all musicians today in a concert so obvious?
Here, one learns how true music was made, here, one learns to respect the audiences, here, one learns to age as a rich and famous musician, here, one learns what music as a mass art is.
In short, we are witnessing the last strokes of a musical generation that is slowly disappearing and leaves us with a huge void and still so much to teach.
Thank you Paul for the lovely evening. I'm twenty years old and nothing has ever thrilled me more than that "Here today" dedicated to Lennon. You two closed in a room writing songs that brought you there last night in front of me and others to receive well-deserved applause.
Thank you.
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