Showing posts with label piano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label piano. Show all posts

Thursday, September 24, 2026

The Generation Bridge (1974)

The original of the photo I cleaned up with A.I.

I used A.I. to clean up this photo because the original was faded and the newsprint had turned yellow.




 




The Generation Bridge

By Len Epand

Zoo World

July 18, 1974


    What do you do when Peggy Lee asks you to dinner? Well, if you're Paul McCartney, you don't just buy a bottle of rare champagne to show your appreciation. You sit at your piano and compose her a song. That's what Paul did when the McCartneys were to meet Miss Lee in London earlier this year, and that's why he and a most flattered Peggy, one of the greatest pop vocalists of the era, whose name is certainly known to as many people as the Beatles, were at the Record Plant Studio one day the first week in June.

     McCartney was producing his song "Let's Love" for the title track to what must be Peggy Lee's 40th album. After a hard day's work, Paul, unmustached and dressed sharply in a black satin shirt and washed-out blue jeans, and Peg, looking trim in a tan suede suit, having recently taken off some weight, and youthful, though at 54 years of age she could be Paul's mother, held a mini press conference/photo session around Studio C's grand piano. In high spirits, they casually sang a couple of songs together, elaborated on their surprising collaboration, then took the small mob into the control room to hear the finished track.

     "Well, of course," said Peggy to Paul. "I was a fan of yours before you knew about me."

     "No, that's not right," answered McCartney. "No, I was a fan of yours before you knew about me, Peggy. Yeah, I used to have records of Peggy. I did 'Til There Was You' because I had Peggy's record of it. So I've been a fan of hers for a long time, you know.

     "When she came to London, she invited us for dinner over at her hotel. So I thought, 'I'm going along to dinner. Well, I'm either going to take a bottle of champagne or a song.'"

    " I'd rather have a song any time," added Peggy. "I can always get some champagne, but it would be very difficult to get a Paul McCartney song written, especially for me."

    " So I took a song along, and Peggy said, 'Great, let's do it.' So we got a hold of Dave Gushin (who  with Peggy is producing the rest of the album) and really that's all there is to it. The logistics were no problem."

     "I was delighted, naturally," said Peggy, "and Linda didn't mind."

     "Let's Love," recorded with Paul on piano, is a simple romantic tune, with characteristic McCartney production. From the lone piano introduction, strings and woodwinds enter in stages as Peggy sings in her rich, becalming tones, "Lover, let's be in love with each other. Tonight is the night of the butterflies. Let's love."

     Paul and Linda stopped off in L.A. to record with Peggy and begin arranging for a future Wings tour. John Lennon visited them at the Beverly Hills Hotel before they left for Nashville, where Wings is presently working out material and breaking in a new drummer, Jeff Britton. During their six weeks stateside, they'll probably record. "When they tour," said McCartney's manager Brian Brolly, "they'll play in England and Europe before doing their first American concerts early in 1975."

     When with Peggy, McCartney, very much the gentleman, flatly refused to draw away attention by answering nagging Beatles reunion rumors. But when alone, he did respond to some questions.

     Does going to Nashville reflect a certain style he wishes to adopt? "No, no," he said. And will they record there? "We might actually. Yeah, you know why I seem a bit vague is I play a lot of stuff by ear. I don't really plan that much. So ostensibly, do you like that --ostensibly? We're going to rehearse." They've rented a farm and studio for that.

      How does he feel after selling 2 million copies of Band on the Run? "Aha, good." That's not a new experience, though?  "For me, solo it is."

     When someone asks if he thought the Beatles were that good, Paul replied, "I think it was that good, but I mean, when you listen to the tapes now, it wasn't that good. But you've got to take them in context. I mean, you listen now. Well, I mean, it kills me. There's no drums, no bass, no nothing. But in context for the time, compared with the records that were out, it must have been good." As solo artists, have they received undue criticism? "No. If people don't like it, they say they don't like it. That's criticism. But I think it's fair criticism. Most of what's gone down, I don't like it, but it's pretty fair."

     In May, when he was in town for the Academy Awards, Paul spoke to Robert Hilburn of the Los Angeles Times about how the Beatles went full circle and are probably finished. "I think it did go full circle, and if you try to make the circle stretch, it'll go into a spiral or something. We started off as four kids from Liverpool who wanted to become famous. We became famous, made all the records, all the statements, did the whole bit. Eventually, we came to a point where we wanted to split up. That's the end of the circle. If we try to get back on the circle, there may not be any circle to jump back on. That's the point. We have all started other circles, and it could get very complicated. The Beatles thing could carry on in a way just like a hobby," he concluded. "Just to keep the friendship alive, cause there is friendship there. I mean, we like each other. We dig each other a lot."

     Now Paul is understandably tired of Beetle's speculation. About to leave the studio, he was waiting in the parking lot for Linda, who was nowhere to be seen during the session, and he revealed how he felt about it. It's the same dumb questions all the time. I hate to say it, but it is with the same dumb leading answers. You know what I hate most of all, the same stupid answers every time. Yeah, uh, in mock serious voice. As far as I can see, the Beatles won't be regrouping.
 

Sunday, August 2, 2026

Learning from the best



  Last week Paul taught a class on songwriting to these fortunate young musicians.  I keep seeing comments saying how they don't know how lucky they are, but somehow I think they do know and they enjoyed every moment of their time with Paul. 

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

Paul McCartney's Kind Eyes and a Shaking Fork of Beans (1995/1976)

 


Paul during the soundcheck in Setttle 1976


Paul and Linda before the concert in Seattle.  Was this where the author of this article met them?


Paul McCartney's Kind Eyes and a Shaking Fork of Beans 

By Margie Boule

The Oregonian

November 23, 1995


    A memory is a strange magnet. Why do we remember what we do? Why have I sat for the TV this week watching Paul McCartney on ABC's Beatles documentary, unable to shake the taste of green beans?  Why can't I remember every word he said as he sat across the dinner table from me back in 1976? 

     I'll tell you what I do remember. Linda and Paul McCartney were extremely nice that evening so long ago in Seattle.  I was astonished they would even speak to me, a stranger, a nobody dressed in some blue jeans and a T-shirt. My only fashion accessory was a laminated tag that hung from my neck with the word "crew" printed on it. 

    I was working for KINGTV. Our company was hired to put the video pictures on the big screen inside the Kingdome for the Paul McCartney and Wings concert. I have some engineer friends who would be working the concert. Did I want to hang around backstage? They asked.

     Did I want to hang around and perhaps catch a glimpse of Paul McCartney, the sweet-voiced mop-top who jump-started my production of hormones when I was a sixth grader? Did I want to hang around and hear notes sung by the guy I'd harmonized with the 1964 with my pastel pink transistor radio clutched to one ear? You bet your Beatles wig I wanted to!

     "We'll put you on the crew list", said one of my friends, "You might actually have to help carry in cables or something." This was the only engineering-related task I was prepared to handle. Since I was barely able to do more than turn a TV set off and on. 

     We arrived early, and immediately it was clear there was nothing for me to do. Real engineers scurried around, hooking up cameras, checking light levels, and testing focus on the giant screen above the stage. I wandered backstage, trying to look legitimate. I coiled a heavy camera cable, then I uncoiled it, then I coiled it again.

     Late in the afternoon, as I stood somewhere near where the Seattle Mariners must place second base, Paul McCartney took the stage with his band members for a sound check. His wife, Linda, stood before a keyboard on a raised platform toward the back of the stage. Paul stood in front. One by one, the band members played their instruments, and the sound grew louder and softer and louder as technicians tinkered with the blend. I noticed there was no female voice in the mix. Linda McCartney appeared to be mouthing the words, then she sang alone, and I understood why someone had kept her mic turned off. She might be a wicked vegetarian cook, but a singer, she wasn't.  She was, however, having fun making music. She and Paul seemed happy.

     A few moments later, they left the stage. I had a few hours before the concert began, I coiled and uncoiled cord until I got hungry. There was a food tent set up backstage. Inside was a buffet table with paper plates and cafeteria-style food. I don't remember what I dished up, except for the green beans. 

    A few minutes later, Paul and Linda came in. I was stunned. "They eat this food?" I thought to myself, "Not champagne and little baby carrots with mint?" Their backs are to me. I watched them put food on paper plates, and then they sat down directly across from me. I swear for a full 60 seconds I was blind, deaf, and unable to speak. The words "act cool" seemed to be flashing in neon before my eyes.

     "Don't speak to them," I thought. Then they spoke to me. "Let them have their privacy," I thought. They didn't seem to want privacy. They asked me what I did on the crew, and I told them the truth. "I coiled and uncoiled cable." They laughed. They must have thought I was kidding. I remember wiping my mouth with my napkin a lot, because every time I picked up my fork, it shook so much the beans fell to the plate. What composure.

     I know we talked until the vegetables were all gone, but I have little memory of what we discussed. I don't think I made a fool of myself. I doubted I stared. I'm pretty sure I did not tell him how I once filled a scrapbook with photographs of him. It was just a pleasant dinner of bland canned vegetables with the man, who the Guinness Book of World Records says is the world's most popular performer, and his wife.

     I wish I'd sat down that night after the meal, after the concert, after I coiled my last cable and written down every detail of the visit, but I didn't. All I remember is my shaking fork, her lousy voice, his kind eyes, and the green beans. Like I said, a memory is a strange magnet.

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

We All Shine On






 

February 11, 1970 -

John is on Top of the Pops performing one of my all time favorite songs:  Instant Karma