I’m high and decide to listen to Venus and Mars by Wings, Paul McCartney’s second biggest band. I have to say it is diverse, sometimes within the same song. It’s all convoluted, but I do like Paul’s blues chops, or Denny Laine’s I suppose.
I’ve always given Paul credit for being the best songwriter from the Beatles when arguments arise between fan factions. I credit all of them with incredible talents, but the post-Beatles albums of the Fab Four tells us a lot about each of them. John’s experimentation, George’s philosophical and humorous side, Ringo’s…well, Ringoness, and Sir Paul’s polishing of tracks until they gleam in the sun. His talent is undeniable, however, his songs don’t touch my soul. The album is cold even though the licks are hot. The many layers of musical cliche on top of rock isn’t my cup of tea today. I prefer something stony, but not intent on being pop ear candy.