Sunday, November 17, 2013

Paul McCartney - NEW



By Michael Roffman at Time.com
At 71, Paul McCartney hasn’t changed his tune, despite calling his latest and 16th (!) studio album, New. He’s the same affable rock star he was back in October of 1962, when he issued The Beatles’ first single, “Love Me Do”. That ornamental English accent, his trademark shag, and his boyish smile can still charm teenagers across the world, as creepy and awkward as that might sound, in theory. In every way, he’s the industry’s Stephen Colbert; a coy, intelligent, and sharply dressed man, forever entertaining from the stage, whether it’s recorded or IRL. Truth be told, there isn’t another McCartney we know of, the same way there isn’t another Colbert, which is why few people ever have anything but positive words for them (well, with the exception of conservatives and those that side with Lennon, Harrison, Starr, or Stewart).
That’s why it’s so odd to hear McCartney sing a line like, “All my life I never knew/ What I could be, what I could do.” Of course, he’s referring to his post-Heather Mills relationship with Nancy Shevall, but the line still feels telling, nonetheless. He’s always been forthcoming with his narratives — whether it’s something obvious like “Maybe I’m Amazed” or rather mercurial like “Friends to Go” — but a track like “New” suggests he’s been holding back on his inner demons. Granted, the surviving Beatle’s tickled at his own self-deprecation throughout his entire career, but that’s a pretty weighty line. It’s as if Billy Joel released a song called “I’ve Never Had a Drop”, or Dylan teased fans with a line like, “The times are bored/ and I’ve been young too long.” Basically, that line’s enough to make you think, Okay, what’s up Paul?
The answer? A lot. Over 13 tracks, McCartney proves he’s a better Paul than 2007′s Memory Almost Full, a more romantic Paul than 2005′s Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, a more inventive Paul than 2001′s Driving Rain, and a more nostalgic Paul than 1997′s Flaming Pie. All of those tour dates and festival spots revisiting Abbey Road, Revolver, and Past Masters have paid off tremendously, bringing us a round of stormy blues rock (“I Can Bet”), elegant balladry (“On My Way to Work”), furious post-folk (“Everybody Out There”), and, naturally, the timeless AM pop of yesteryear (“New”). It’s like he feels he has something to prove, as he sings on “Alligator”: “Everybody else is busy doing better than me/ But I can see why it is.”
Though, unlike so many veterans who still feel compelled to regale us with new releases, McCartney does so under the auspices that it’s okay to absorb today’s influences. And why not? Opening track “Save Us” jogs at the frantic throwback pace of The Strokes or half a dozen garage rock bands of the last 10 years, only there’s a slight Wings glaze to it (invite Julian Casablancas in and it might be an early demo of “Reptilia”, but don’t tell Paul). “Appreciate” toggles electronica a la Damon Albarn’s Gorillaz, though there’s a grinding slide guitar solo at the end that tailors to McCartney’s closet Southern rock obsession. It’s surprising that out of all the tracks here, this one isn’t produced by Mark Ronson, but Giles Martin. The two shared the controls behind New, alongside Ethan Johns and Paul Epworth. In hindsight, it’s rather poetic that George Martin’s son would be the one to shed a modern light on McCartney.
Forty-seven minutes is a long time, however, and allows for a few minor bruises. The repetitive psychedelia of “Hosanna” begs for Harrison or Clapton’s guitar work; the inventive “Looking at Her” gets a little cyclical, despite the Muse-y fills; and the theatrical, Who-inspired closer “Road” scrambles to reach the peak its lyrical and instrumental climb suggests. Instead, it’s the album’s “secret” track, “Scared”, that serves as an apt closer, a bare bones ballad that finds McCartney at his best instrument: the piano. Amidst a midnight stream of consciousness, he sings: “I’m still too scared to tell you/ Afraid to let you see/ That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth, though I’m dying to set them free/ Trying to let you see/ How much you mean to me.” And like that, he leaves us with the Paul we’re most familiar with — the helpless heartbreaker.
As Ben Greenman recently wrote in The New Yorker, “He’s Paul McCartney, and he’s Paul McCartney now the way that he was Paul McCartney ten years ago, or 30, generically exhorting listeners to action or reminding them of glory of love or sketching the outlines of a less pleasant emotion (fear, sadness, unregulated anger) without any real specifics.” That idea remains true on New, which is why it’s so enjoyable, and accessible, and quintessential to McCartney’s catalogue. Yet, a read between the lines suggests that he’s turning pages on his life that crack the Dorian Gray through-line he’s nurtured with his impromptu high school performances and Times Square takeovers. It all sounds and feels new, but his wiry navel-gazing suggests otherwise. ”They can’t take it from me if they try/ I lived through those early days,” he pleads on acoustic number “Early Days”. Those aren’t the words of a young man, but the words of an older bard, and only now are we saying hello.

BillBeatles



By Claudio Botelho
They’re two different entities, but equally enticing in remaining far and above their peers. They’ve transcended their gender for long and seriously stretched their proposed boundaries into other realms, and the passing of time has only made they garner more recognition.
Bill Evans was more erudite, at least at the delivery for consumption. The Beatles’ music was purposely done to younger and wider audiences, and both musical legacies have acquired an uncanny transcendence by achieving a timeless reputation of unsurpassed quality.
These two phenomena of our time are unique. No rock band (was the Beatles a rock band?) or piano trio were ever like them, even at a glance.
When the Beatles came out, I was already irreversibly committed to jazz. I started with Dave Brubeck and Oscar Peterson, and Bill Evans wasn't yet in my foreseeable future, but this alone was all I needed to be away from that British group or any other of its kind whatsoever.
But how could I overlook their ubiquitous presence? It was an impossible mission, for the simple reason they were everywhere. As a natural consequence, they were just present in my life, but I wasn’t a repository of any of their influences, or so thought I. If their music were ever listened attentively by me, it was through the good services of jazz musicians (Ramsey Lewis comes to my mind). Otherwise, their tunes would pass me unnoticed, as much as, to be truthful, any other kind of music was it popular or classic. I was already very hooked to the jazz language.
Until the arrival of the album “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely hearts Club Band”, The Beatles were just one more pop musical group among many others for me. But then, all of a sudden, I was embedded in songs like “With a Little Help from my Friends”, “Getting Better”, “She’s Leaving Home”, “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite”, “Lovely Rita”, “Good Morning, Good Morning”, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”, the fantastic impressionist arranged “A Day in the Life” and five others. I was taken aback; shocked I was!... I surely didn’t know that, music wise, what inside that production was out of the reach of John, Paul, George and Ringo or even of the fifth Beatle, but I gathered I was in front of something seriously BIG!
Besides being in front of a musical presentation as dissimilar as any I had ever heard so far, I couldn't find any link between the compositions as if they were done by entirely different minds! Each one had a richness all its own and, so, seemed unique to me. By that time, I was halfway in my teens and the “needle” of my case-type monaural Philips disk player was worn out playing that masterpiece.
Keep to you this: Sgt. Pepper’s was the first and the last album of its kind I've ever brought home to listen to…
Bill Evans. To start with, he was responsible for bringing people from the kitchen to the living room. So, bassists and drummers are now on par with sax, trumpet and piano players. His 1961 trio with Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian was the starting point. I don’t know the extent of the role of Lafaro’s exquisite playing: he certainly wasn’t a common bass player and the way he treated his instrument needed more space to bloom. Was Evans’ brain the one behind this revolution or was he simply an attentive witness to a phenomenon which needed to follow its course? Did he, keenly, spot the enhancement LaFaro’s performance could bring to his group and to his music altogether and, then, just put it to work?
Certainly, a no-leader-three-leader group would become much stronger, provided it had some kind of invisible guide to put everything together. Evans leadership spoke through his enormous musical talent, no matter how well mannered he was as a human being: never authoritative, but an authority himself.
Surely, that “three-leadership-group” of his and its inherent symbiosis brought about the best of everybody. His cohorts have become much more part of the whole than ever before… (Some utilitarianism was welcome here…)
Of course, to be the first to achieve this would imply having a personal character of a certain kind; it should be honest enough to give more ground to his partners and not be afraid of losing relevance. Some humbleness was required here; a thing geniuses are commendably known to have. …
Was it the way things went by? I don’t know. Maybe, about this I’m the most ignorant man around…
What I know is that his trio was the beginning of a new trend which has reigned ever since. Wasn’t Evans such a formidable talent, this alone would have been enough to put his name in the top echelon of jazz.
About him, there’s not anything new I can address; everything has been said about this giant, so… (I’ve heard that Alain Broadbent, when listening to him for the first time, busted into tears and decided to follow his steps).
Since his early passing, we’ve been trying to find someone who could fill, at least partly, the enormous gap he left behind to fulfill our needs. From then on, we’ve examined people like Fred Hersch, Enrico Pierannunzi, Lynne Arriale, Alan Broadbent, Bill Charlap, Tord Gustavsen, Roland Hanna, Eddie Higgins, Hank jones, Andy Laverne, Bobo Stenson, Bill Mays, Walter Norris, Alan Pasqua, Gonzalo Rubalcalba…
Do you know what? Heeeeeeeeelp!... The gap remains unfulfilled, and there’s nothing on the horizon to show otherwise.
But, alas, BillBeatles? Why is this?
All this is just to say these are two musical entities which I feel will never be superseded, no matter how things evolve, no matter what progress man can bring to this divine art named music. This is the proof of the existence of something which can’t be smelled, viewed or touched; something science will never explain, which is well beyond any dissection ever to be tried…

Macca's Jazz Quartet

Paul McCartney
Kisses On The Bottom




By Leonardo Barroso
First of all, this is a JAZZ record, made with top-jazz musicians, great arrangers and the best production team available in the music business.
I think this is the first time Paul McCartney doesn't play any instrument, his only concern is to sing, and the voice couldn't be better. In a blindfold test, my friends weren't able to tell who was the singer, only that he was English, that is a proof of how serious Paul was in a passionate reason to record these standard tunes.
This is my favorite Paul "Macca" McCartney record. The songs are great, all of them well played and sung.
Eric's guitar is just wonderful on "My Valentine", and is the only song you can spot Paul's regular vocals. The other one you can spot Paul is on, the also original, "Only Our Hearts".
A concept album made for valentines on Valentine's Day !
Well McCartney is almost 70 years-old, and after 50 years of great rock and roll success, he has the courage of letting everyone know how much he listened to the songs that his father loved and sang. I got really moved when "Always" by I. Berlin started, a song that I've only heard by my Jazz Icon Bill Evans on the "Trio '64" album. Just great !!!!
Since this is his first jazz record and he did a great job, I really wish he will come back once more, loose a little bit, and deliver one thing he is familiar with: making dreams come true and masterpieces.

Macca's Jazz Quartet:
Paul McCartney - Vocals
Diana Krall - Piano
Robert Hurst - Bass
John Pizzarelli - Guitar
Karriem Riggins - Drums
with: Anthony Wilson, Eric Clapton, Stevie Wonder, Mike Mainieri, Tamir Hendelman, John Clayton, Jeff Hamilton and Bucky Pizzarelli.
Arrangments: Alan Broadbent, Diana Krall, Johnny Mandel
Produced by: Tommy LiPuma