A column dedicated to great songs, old and new.
May 31, 2005
Written by Paul McCartney
From McCartney, Apple Records, 1970
I always say that I love the year 1971. Three of my favorite albums (Joni Mitchell's Blue, Carole King's Tapestry, Sly and the Family Stone's There's a Riot Goin' On), two of my favorite movies (Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and Billy Jack), and my favorite person of all time (my wife) were all "released" in 1971. McCartney, the LP on which "The Lovely Linda" appears, came out in 1970, but for many years (right up until a few days ago, actually), I went around thinking that it came out in 1971.
McCartney
Paul McCartney
I didn't hear McCartney until the 80s. By that time, I was already familiar with (and a fan of) the "Look, Ma, no band!" antics of Stevie Wonder, Todd Rundgren, and Prince, so when I saw the "All instruments and voices by Paul" credit on McCartney , I assumed that Macca's seminal take on the DIY ethos would be similar to those three masters.
However, instead of studied studio perfection, what you get on McCartney is a collection of literally homespun songs, many of which sound like they were written and recorded on the fly (Beatles fans often either love it or hate it). Some of the songs are very short, like "The Lovely Linda", which clocks in at :45. It's made of simple materials: homey "percussion", off-the-cuff guitar, a hook-filled singalong melody, and an undeniable sincerity in its intent: to spend a little time musing about his Lovely Linda. Perhaps knowing how long Paul and Linda McCartney were married adds some emotional heft to a current listen, but even back when I first heard "The Lovely Linda", I found it touching and revealing. The song's brevity works well as a snapshot, a knowing glance, an affectionate smile, a complete statement in small form. It impressed me as a listener, and intrigued me as a young music-maker. I loved the idea of working with small, fragmentary musical forms, and Paul's work on this album (along with The Residents' Commercial Album) contain great examples of fragmentary pop songs. I always felt if done right, there is a potentially zen-like simplicity to those types of pieces.
I've spent a lot of time trying to write small-form pop songs, and occasionally the impulse turns up on my commercially released CDs. We've included some past examples of my attempts below. Just this year, I completed a new collection of short pieces, in collaboration with many musicians, which I think will probably put my obsession with small forms to rest.
It comes out in the fall of 2005, but was inspired by 1971. I mean 1970.
pcm
Purchase:
McCartney
at Amazon.com
at Tower
Records
Small-song samples:
"Chuck D" (MP3)
This humorous 1991 tribute to the great Public Enemy rapper and activist
finds me imitating Chuck's sportscaster-meets-MC style. The song
is about 22 seconds long.
Never released before.
Instruments and voice by pcm
"truth #27" (MP3)
From the trouble i'd bring you, Beevine Records, 1998
the trouble i'd bring you was actually originally titled Bite-Size,
and it was going to be all mini-songs. But I kept writing full-length
songs for it, so I ended up scrapping the title and concept, and instead
interspersed "small" songs with full-length ones on the CD. "truth
#27", which is 1:01 long, is one of the bite-size pieces which
I think worked out well. My friend John Paulsen (fellow Beatles fan
and a sly pop craftsman in his own right) has hinted that he's going
to cover it one day.
Drums, keys, spoken voice: pcm
Bass and guitar: David R.
Sung vocal: Derek Lassiter