Review: Paul McCartney: Memory Almost Full

My Paul McCartney review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com


Memory Almost Full
Paul McCartney
Hear Music
2007

It's ironic that Paul McCartney's first CD to be released digitally is his best proper album in years. Memory Almost Full is a record that's not made to be downloaded individually iTunes style—this album is one that deserves to be listened to from start to finish without interruption. Yes, I was a fan of the Nigel Godrich produced Chaos and Creation in the Backyard and I had my doubts with the news that Paul was going to go back to Driving Rain producer David Kahne on Memory Almost Full. Why Paul? Why I yelled out when I read the news, but oh boy, was I proven wrong. Sorry Nigel, Macca and Kahne have bested you with Memory.

After talking about the last album with my new buddy Paul a few nights back (the name's just a coincidence), we both still were raving about Chaos. Looking back, revisiting the album after my initial review is that the Godrich-produced record sounds a bit too melancholy. Where were all the upbeat numbers beside "Fine Line?" Even so, we Macca fans owe so much to Godrich because I believe that Paul wouldn't have finished Memory without first recording and releasing Chaos.

Paul actually started working on Memory even before he began recording tracks with Nigel Godrich. He needed the Chaos experience to go back and finish his best-sounding album of the last three. I am surprised to be digging Memory so much even though I am so not a fan of Kahne. (I don't think I could ever forgive him after the whole debacle with trying to shelve Wilco's Yankee Foxtrot Hotel's album because he didn't feel there were any hits on the record. Don't get me started…) One thing I do give Kahne credit for, and the reason it's Paul's best sounding album, is that his goal was to capture all of Macca's sonic styles from the past. If you're a Wings fan, like me, you are really going to love Memory Almost Full.

The album starts with a mandolin-flavored ditty called "Everybody Dance," which is a perfect way to start. The mandolin is an instrument that Paul recently fell in love with, and he may have gotten the inspiration from George Harrison. George is the one who inspired Paul to pick up and play the ukulele, one of the many instruments that Harrison mastered. Macca actually played a tribute to Harrison during his Back in the U.S. tour with a ukulele version of "Something." "Everybody Dance" is a more upbeat number that Paul learned after first strumming his new favorite instrument. His daughter loved the sound of Paul's mandolin so much that Macca improvised the lyrics for his little girl's amusement when he saw her dancing around the room. I love the bluesy tapping of Paul's feet reminiscent of his shoe percussion on "Blackbird," it just matches so well with the warm sound of the mandolin swing.

Memory then segues into the "Fine Line"-esque "Ever Present Past." The lyrics in this upbeat song go along with the theme of Memory: "I hope it isn't too late/ searching for the time that has gone so fast/ the time that I thought would last." Paul started this premise on Chaos and continues this on Memory as he looks back with less melancholy eyes.

"See Your Sunshine" is a heartfelt, upbeat number that has Paul singing an ode to a new love. Paul has had the roughest of years, he's in the middle of a messy divorce but even the pain of his break-up hasn't dampened his mood or ever-hopeful spirit. This is the reason I feel Memory is such a superior album to Chaos. Instead of continuing the gloomy mood he had on his last record, Paul sings "I want to see your sunshine." This is what the record sounds like, sunshine to Chaos' rain. I adore the harmonies on this song, very Denny Lane-esque. Maybe with Paul looking back at his life he's singing an ode to his old Wings mate.

"Only Mama Knows" starts off with a somber string sample reminiscent of the opening to Neil Finn's "Sinner" from Try Whistling This (incidentally, Paul has worked with Mitchell Froom, who produced several Crowded House albums). After the sweet violin solo, "Only Mama Knows" turns into a "Junior's Farm"-ish rocker that would have fit on the Wings album Band on the Run next to Paul's "Helen Wheels"-like riffs before the refrain and the chorus. I love the way the song starts off sad and breaks into a joyful jam as Paul sings about looking back at the choices Mama made. Is it just me or do the harmonies sound so Wings like that it not only sounds like Denny Lane but Linda McCartney singing background vocals? Well if you look careful at the title of the album, there's an anagram of "for my soul mate LLM" which are the initials of Linda Louise McCartney, the true love of Paul's life. I like to think that Linda's spirit was with him through out the making of this electrifying album.

Throughout his long and illustrious career, Paul has always loved singing about birds; there was "Blackbird," "Bluebird" and even "Free as a Bird," yet with Memory he sings "the bright red cardinal flew down from the tree" on "You Tell Me." This song is an acoustic beauty that has the aching flavor is akin to "For No One" with the harmonies that sound straight out of the Pipes of Peace era for Paul. The harmonies on Memory are so incredibly addictive they match the sweet intensity that Paul has on his high pitched vocal on "You Tell Me."

"Mister Bellamy" has some of the best lyrics on the album, as well as some great piano. This is one of those "character songs" that John Lennon once said that Paul is so brilliant at creating, like "Lovely Rita," "Lady Madonna" and "Honey Pie" from the days that were Fab. As Paul sings "I'm not coming down/No matter what you say/ I like it up here without you" it sounds like he's singing to his ex, at least this is my interpretation and how I feel when I hear the song. The deep bass vocal echo the unique singing stylings of "Pretty Little Head" from the always underrated and often forgotten Press to Play album of 1986. When Kahne said he wanted to emulate all of Macca's vinyl flavors, he sure wasn't kidding. This guy knows his McCartney.

The wickedly cool sounds in the very effective and mostly instrumental coda of "Mister Bellamy" leads us into what I have dubbed the "Memory Medley"—my favorite part of the album. The smooth segues and stellar sequencing of the record are the best ever for a McCartney album since Ram. Macca and Kahne have essentially taken the idea first heard on side two of The Beatles' Abbey Road and incorporated it to the latter half of Memory Almost Full.

"Gratitude" follows next with a Flaming Pie's "Souvenir" meets "Oh Darling" like bluesy vocal that drips a Memphis-flavored passionate vibe. This is another uplifting number that has Paul singing "I want to show my gratitude for being loved by you." He looks back at former flame without the ache of bitterness that most of us feel remembering past lovers. So hard to do but Paul does it effortless on this post break-up love song.

Paul jumps to a piano-heavy and joyful number "Vintage Clothes," and sings "Don't live in the past/ don't hold on to something that's changing fast." He is in such a hopeful mode which is incredible and shows the strength of a man that has lost his Mother, his lyrical and songwriter partner Lennon, his soul-mate Linda and now divorced at sixty—you would think that looking back at a life of loss would bring someone down but not Paul McCartney. Yeah he has the success, the fame, money and glory but even throughout all the pain he is still the eternal singing optimist who we have grown up with. This is why I so love and respect Sir Paul McCartney—after all of these years, he's creating life affirming and cutting edge songs that are catchy and timeless as ever.

"Vintage Clothes" slides into the '50s-like rockin' ditty he captured so fluidly on Run Devil Run resurrected on "That was Me." I imagine Paul looking through all of his old photo albums, films and mementos as he sings "The same me that stands here now/ if fate agreed that all of this/ to make a lifetime, who am I to disagree, that was me." Once again as he looks back with a smile not a frown with an idea that I have always championed, everything that we have done, all the choices that we have made in our lives have led us here to this very moment and made us the person we are today.

In the '70s and on the song "C-Moon" Paul sang "How come no one older than me never seems to understand the things I want to do?" My fellow Gemini, Macca, and I think alike. I have always understood him even when he was unpopular and I was seen as an outcast being a die-hard Macca fan. He has sung for me, he has been there through all my trials. I feel like I have aged along sweetly with McCartney. On this album I too feel his bliss as he looks back where he once belonged. I am there with him, where I have always been on the journey with and the experiences in my own life; this is why I connect with a song like "The End of The End."

When he sings "At the end of the end/ it's the start of a journey to a much better place" I am there with him. In this new chapter as Paul digital, he's as vibrant and charismatic as ever. The past is prologue and I am looking forward to his next one. Until then I will relive this Memory over and over again, with a voice that's linked in time, and will sing the soundtracks of our tomorrows aging so perfectly, one could never feel alone again.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.06.2007

Review: Jeff Buckley: So Real

My Jeff Buckley review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



So Real: Songs from Jeff Buckley
Jeff Buckley
Legacy-Columbia
2007

One of the only few regrets that I have I life is not seeing Jeff Buckley in concert. I had my chance, back during his Mystery White Boy tour of 1995. I was working at a used record store in San Antonio called Apple Records, and one of my cohorts there, Chris, who was like the Barry of our own High Fidelity, always adding another artist/band to his best band ever list to which we had to listen. We had been keeping track behind the counter of his list ever since he started, and we lost count at about a hundred or so of the best artist(s) ever. Jeff Buckley was on his list, and Chris had acquired tickets to one his shows in Austin at the once famous Liberty Lunch venue. Stupidly I declined Chris' invitation. I can't recall why but he took one of our aging Buyers Phil instead of me.

When Chris and Phil returned from the show, they were speechless. This was unusual even for him. The one thing Chris told me about was the way Buckley weaved The Smiths "I Know It's Over" with Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." (Later heard on the Mystery White Boy CD) Chris couldn't even use words to express what he saw. All he could say was, "You missed one of the best shows ever." As he walked away, shaking his head in disbelief, Phil agreed. Mind you, he was one of those aging hippies always talking about how great the'60s and '70s were. Phil said, "I will never forget that show for as long as I lived." And to this day I am still kicking myself. I guess this is why I have been collecting rare Buckley live recordings, trying to compensate for missing his show.

I actually thought I would get a chance to see him live, until the fateful day when they found Buckley's body in the Mississippi in Memphis. Jeff's death affected me more than Cobain's suicide a few years before. I couldn't believe he was gone. And yet his music lives on. To add his short musical legacy comes a new compilation called So Real: Songs from Jeff Buckley. It's far from being a greatest hits disc because, during his short life, Jeff unfortunately never had any, despite very limited airplay of "Last Goodbye." Buckley was a man ahead of his time. Even though he only finished one album those songs carry on his name and legacy with every lyric, verse, chorus and riff.

My first introduction to Jeff Buckley was his opening harmonies and faint guitar picking's from "Mojo Pin." To me "Pin" sounded like an opening to a séance as if I was being inducted into this new tribe of music that was new, vintage, strange and beautiful all in the same breath. From that first song I was hooked. We, Buckley fans are rabid like a secret sect that not very many people know about. Unlike Elvis fans, we all know that Buckley's dead, but his music is what we all cling to. The thing about Buckley that we all connect to is his longing for love. His voice is the reflective pain that is the aching of heartbreak. He knows what it is like to feel, fall and lose true love. When he sings, "Born again from the rhythm screaming down from heaven/ Ageless, ageless and I'm there in your arms," we find it hard not to connect to him. He sings for the passion we yearn for, have felt or are currently experiencing in our own lives.

To pick a favorite song or lyric is for me, or asking any English major, trying to select your favorite play or soliloquy from one of Shakespeare's many works. And this is from someone who only recorded one true album in his lifetime. This is how influential he was and still remains. Thom Yorke once said that his vocal on "Fake Plastic Trees" was inspired by seeing Jeff Buckley live in concert. Without Jeff would we have heard such an amazing vocal performance from Yorke on The Bends? Probably not.

Anyway, I'll give in—one of my favorite Buckley lyrics has to be, from one of favorite songs "Lover Should Have Come Over"—"Too young to hold on/ and too old to just break free and run." This was the way that I used to feel when I was in a relationship. I seemed to be naïve romantic falling for these women who were, in certain instances seemed right for me, but after a short time it was apparent that we were strangers who weren't meant to be. Now when I hear, "she's the tear who hangs inside my soul forever," it reminds me of the boy child desperately searching for love in affairs that seemed rushed and unfulfilling. I knew how Jeff felt when he sang, "Well maybe I'm just too young/to keep good love from going wrong." As I sang along with Buckley asking "Will I ever learn?", I hoped one day I would. I finally did.

"Hallelujah" is the coming of two lovers for the first time in the dark, naked and so sweet. "So Real" and his lyric "And remember the smell of the fabric of your simple city dress" speaks simply for the memory of the taste and scent of a former love. Then there's "Last Goodbye" the ode to the one that you once fell for, but now must leave behind. "Everybody Here Wants You" is a Memphis soul song that's pure Buckley as he croons for the amor in his life, "Love can taste like the wine of the ages, oh babe/ And I know they all looks so good from a distance/ But I tell you I'm the one," as the shy one at the party. But don't dare think that J.B. is the godfather of the Emo movement, because he could rock like the best of them. When I used to work at Tower Records in New Orleans, I would play Jeff Buckley, and some of the clerks and managers would tease me that I loved playing `sensitive guy music.' That's when I would crank up "Eternal Life (Road Version)" and "The Sky is a Landfill" to shut them up. Both songs are featured on So Real to show that Jeff had the power to kick out the jams along with his feminine falsetto side. Buckley was a complex character who didn't want to get pigeonholed into one sound or song idea this was the reason that he took so long recording his follow-up that he never really finished.

So Real also contains some fine rarities. The alternate take of "Dream Brother" is, I feel, the best version, with its varied lyrics more ethereal and addicting than the original. An acoustic rendition of "So Real," where we can hear Buckley clearly whisper, "I Love you/but I'm afraid to love you" after the breakdown, is also particularly memorable. "Forget You" is the ghost of a former lover that haunts your thoughts and dreams who will not go away no matter how much time has past. We also shan't forget the inclusion of the gem, the brilliant cover of The Smiths' "I Know It's Over."

I don't think I could come up with a better track-listing than the one that The Buckley estate selected on So Real. Then again, I would have liked to have heard "Lilac Wine" and "Satisfied Mind" but that's what playlists and our own personal mix CDs are for. This is fine for an introduction, however. Jeff Buckley once said, "I don't want to be remembered. I hope the music is remembered." With the release of Sketches, the Legacy Edition of Grace and now So Real, Jeff may just get his wish. His music will have its own life that we'll cherish every time we hear his songs over and over again like an eternal lullaby that we hope will always light his name and never fade out.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.04.2007