JR Notes, 2001: To me, the biggest flaw in my early record reviews was a tendency to allow my own artistic cleverness to get in the way of fairly assessing an artist’s work. Let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to entertain by going for the jugular than to entertain while writing a thoughtful and well-rounded review. But these days, I feel more strongly than ever that the attempt to get beyond one’s own biases and prejudices is the key to writing credible reviews, and this ongoing attempt at fairness has had far-reaching consequences for me. This does not mean that I am abandoning my opinionated subjectivity - God no - but I am trying to enhance it by seeing if I can create equally entertaining work that is not only scathing but also completely fair, or as fair as I can achieve from within my own admittedly subjective and sometimes absurd world view. I see a new article coming up on this subject, and I better get to it soon so I don’t get too sidetracked here with a lengthy introduction, but all of these previous comments were indeed inspired by this particular review of Paul is Live which has to be described as one of my most entertaining, but also unfair, reviews.

Perhaps the problem is one of context: at the time, Paul McCartney had released not one, not two, but three very disposable live albums, each one blander than the last. It was hard not to question both Paul’s artistic credibility and his nostalgia-driven lifestyle. Looking back now, my stance on the music hasn’t changed, but my critique of Paul’s lifestyle has softened considerably. I also agree with the some of the sentiments of the recent “give Wings their due” movement. Wings was not the best band of all time – I still don’t own a single Wings record - but Paul deserves a bit more credit than I gave him for a decent post-Beatles effort with Wings. In retrospect, Wings seems like more than just disposable fun, or to put it another way, if it was just disposable fun, then Wings is proof that from time to time that’s all we need from a band. Paul McCartney still hasn’t done too much creatively-speaking in recent years, but he has stopped bankrolling his lifestyle on nostalgia, and instead he has found some serious issues to take some stands on. He seems to have found a moral compass that works for him, and he’s finding ways to use his fame to help and inspire others. It might sound trite on paper, but his efforts seem quite heartfelt and genuine. Then, there’s the dignity that Paul carried himself with during his wife Linda’s battle with illness and subsequent death. Instead of going into private mourning over his own loss, which would have been his right by any measure, he stayed in the public spotlight and called international attention to breast cancer research. And here I am scolding him for performing bad renditions of songs that he himself wrote! The bottom line: Paul is Live still sucks, but Paul sure doesn’t. And as long as he remembers to stay away from “Broad Street” and duets with Michael Jackson, he need not justify his life to me or anyone else ever again.

Paul McCartney, Paul is Live (Capitol)

Critics have become so disillusioned with Paul McCartney that it's now fashionable to question his original genius. But the reality is much more tragic - McCartney has squandered his talent. Not his success, no, he's made sure to keep that. He's still got a nice little candy shop on Penny Lane, where he makes his living off nostalgia junkies.

To be fair, there are some non-junkies who still appreciate Paul. These fortunate souls have found a way to lighten up. They see Paul McCartney's solo career as a jolly good time, a breezy ride with happy Paul at the wheel and the Beatles' winning lottery ticket in his pocket. After all, Paul never asked to e put on a pedestal, and besides, once a great song always a great song...right?

Wrong. Just when it's time to lighten up and give the guy a break, he mauls another classic - on Paul is Live Paul trods on many great memories with bland makeovers. Only the insanely eclectic song selection protects him from thoroughly mocking his past (better to hear him toss off "Biker Like an Icon" than "Let it Be." Thankfully he doesn't bother with the latter).

Admittedly, blasting Paul McCartney is a futile gesture: those who still love him after Give My Regards to Broad Street will always love him; the technophiles will point out (rightly) what an able musician and performer he is, and the devil's advocates will point out that it's much harder to grow old (McCartney) than to die young (Lennon).

When the Beatles parted ways back in 1969, fans hopes (we should have prayed) that Paul would find a way to combine his upbeat melodies with a touch of the cynicism that John Lennon had dogged him with for many productive years. But Paul insisted on having an impossibly good time with Wings - in retrospect, a high point - before launching a solo career that gradually turned him from a good-time rock and roller into a maudlin pop sap. "Ebony and Ivory" and "Say, Say, Say" proved he was now equally irrelevant to cultural and personal politics, and nowadays it's a long wait to hear even a disposably good McCartney song.

Paul is Live is overkill at its most unwelcome - if you count Unplugged, it's his third (and his worst) live set in just four years. The musical selection is random hodge-podge. The songs all receive the same indifferent treatment by Paul and his band - classics like "Drive My Car" and "Here There and Everywhere" are swiftly brought down to the level of "Let Me Roll It' and "Looking For Changes."

These technically-competent, soul-less renditions are less a betrayal than a farce, and it's better just to nod our jaded heads and listen politely to Paul's meek anthems. Once you surrender to his aimless, plush style it's really quite easy to find "Peace in the Neighborhood": "people sharing with their friends, helping each other out." Eruptions of applause for the scattered Beatles songs are the only times that Paul's peace is disturbed by enthusiasm, but he expertly calms everyone down again with his mindless mantras ("C'mon People"). A weak, gentle version of the once-caustic "Live and Let Die" finds good company.

Amazingly enough, engineer Geoff Emerick is convinced that he's "really captured the ballsiness" on Paul is Live. I suspect that Paul's caught him in "the center of the love vibration" where anything seems possible. Coming from outside of that fuzzy center, however, the kindest thing that can be said about these lazy songs is that many of them were once great, and could perhaps be made great again through passionate human intervention. The prognosis is grimmer for Paul himself, who after all these years seems content to putter away in his little candy shop, whistling while he works. He may well be alive; it all comes down to definition - but to paraphrase that famous philosophical question - if no one's listening, is Paul really singing?

-JR