Recorded in 1976 during a break from the world tour, "Wings At The Speed Of Sound" has always been criticized as a rushed and unsuccessful work. Listening to it today, that judgment is not so justifiable; in fact, it turns out to be an enjoyable work, at times evocative. Paul's biggest sin is having paired pleasant tracks with less interesting songs, like "San Ferry Anne," more suitable for a B-side of a single, or having minor members like English sing mediocre tracks, the anonymous "Must Do Something About It."
Nevertheless, the album was a colossal success, driven by singles that are still regularly programmed today, like "Let Them In" and "Silly Love Songs;" the difference with "Venus And Mars" is significant. Here, the tones are very mellow, the melodies lighter, the rock moments are limited to only "Beware My Love," performed by the group in a weak and unconvincing manner compared to the sensational live version. "Let Them In" is a pleasant march opened by a doorbell sound, in which Paul mentions in the lyrics, Martin Luther King, Lennon (Brother John), Linda (Sister Suzie), and the Everly Brothers, all invited to enter the house. "Silly Love Songs" is McCartney's response to those critics who reproach him for writing simple love songs, and so Paul takes the opportunity and on a remarkable bass rhythm sings about the desperate need for silly songs to hum by people, repeating in the chorus "I Love You" together with Linda and Denny Laine to the point of exhaustion, a stroke of genius, nothing to say. The most beautiful song on the album is written by Paul, but sung by Laine, "The Note You Never Wrote," is a small masterpiece of alienating atmosphere, in which keyboards, a slow progress of acoustic guitar lead to the entrance of the drums and McCulloch's superb guitar, all enriched by the sweet singing of Denny Laine. The other pieces are less memorable, exercises in style, like the graceful "She's My Baby" or the good piano rendering of "Warm And Beautiful." It's hard to understand why Paul had Linda sing an insignificant piece like "Cook Of The House," when Mrs. McCartney had recorded decidedly better material. "Time To Hide" by Laine must be performed live to be truly appreciated; the rest is superfluous.
If all the poorly executed works were like this, we wouldn't have much to criticize, but from Paul, it was fair to expect more, and the more will come, not in a continuous flow, but it will come.