Wednesday, September 25, 2024

More Macca Yasssssssssssssss Please!

Nobody has ever loved Paul McCartney so much while completely disregarding pretty much his entire post-Beatles output more than me, but I'm still absolutely buzzing from 2021's Get Back (see my brilliant live-blogging about it on the right rail motherscratchers!!) so even though this upcoming documentary is only one hour long (booooooooooo!! ðŸ˜¡ðŸ˜¡ðŸ˜¡ðŸ˜¡) if you think I'm gonna pass up watching super-duper-in-his-prime 1974 Paul McCartney then you are out of your goddam mind:

McCartney’s extraordinary, unforced gusto and the delight he takes in every creative moment, his natural extrovert musicianship and casual virtuosity are such a tonic.

And the film comes with its own bonus material: a “backyard” al fresco mini-concert. McCartney set up with chair and acoustic guitar in a bit of garden behind the studio and Litchfield shot him as, with equal musical garrulity, he played a kind of busker set, channelling Buddy Holly and Eddie Cochran, reimagining the latter’s Twenty Flight Rock as an addictively sinuous, slow-jam masterpiece.

It's called One Hand Clapping & when I find out how the hell we can watch it I'll let you know. Oh shit hold on, someone wants to say something:

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP),
"didn't you put out a song that was so stunningly amazing nobody fucking bothered buying or listening to it that opened up with the line Nobody hears one hand clapping?"

Sigh. Yes I did, faithful readers, YES I did!

And yes I agree "garrulity" is an obnoxious word to drop. 

No comments: