Proven More Effective Than Prozac

One of the saddest shows I’ve ever seen was a special Johnny Carson did in the late 70’s. The show was about Johnny returning home to his high school reunion in Nebraska.

The point of the show seemed to be that yes, Johnny could go home again. There were clips of the places and people from Johnny’s youth, as all the town folk told their favorite memories of their favorite son. What it ended up showing was an isolated and private man, uncomfortable e yet yearning for the companionship of friends he no longer had any connection with.

This is the year of my tenth high school reunion. I’ve been contacted (told to call an "800" number for more information-just how important was my class?) yet I have no interest in attending. The last contact I had with a member of my class was, oh I’d say, about 9.9 years ago. Sometimes it’s best to move on and keep on moving.

I wasn’t exactly in the popular elite of my high school. The highlights of my years there were getting a hallway of people singing the chorus of "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" and an auditorium of people singing along to my rendition of "Let it Be." Thus I was stuck with the label of a Beatle fanatic, and while others got the awards for "Most Likely to Succeed" and "Cutest Smile" I won an honorary award as the "5th Beatle."

I approached Paul McCartney’s concert last Sunday with a great deal of skepticism. If anyone is guilty of trying to recapture and re-live some of the past it has been Paul. These last two world tours have been burdened with a heavy reliance on nostalgia.

I wasn’t planning on going after it was announced Paul was coming to the Dome. I figured I would hang out downtown and see how much tickets were being scalped for before I made my decision to attend. But I changed my mind. The man responsible for providing a vast amount of the music to the soundtrack of my life was coming, and I had to see him.

I’m not really a dork, I just play one for the newsletter. But immediately I saw actual singes I might enjoy myself that evening. Sitting in the ozone zone with a bunch of strangers from Green Bay ("…the last great concert I saw was REO Speedwagon"), I listened to the music playing on the sound system before the show. Up bubbled a quirky live version of "Monkberry Moon Delight" from the LP Ram, which was Paul doing his best Captain Beefheart imitation. The moment froze me; no one seemed to notice the odd but oh so pleasant background sound

What happened next is hard to describe. Far be it for me to exaggerate the evening, but I had what I can only describe as a religious experience. The cynicism melted and for a moment, Paul and his band did what great art can do’ they stopped time. By the end of the night, the critic found himself "nah nah nahing" with 50,000 others to the refrain of "Hey Jude."

But it was a long and winding road getting to that point. The show opened with a version of "Drive My Car" complete with the "beep, beep, ‘n’ beep beep yeahs" flashed on the huge video screen above the stage. Fun stuff.

But the moment that turned the old heart over was the fourth song, "Another Day." Paul’s first post Beatle single. It was an unexpected blast from the past and though others seemed to be just waiting for the next Beatle song, this was it for me. I realized/felt I was sitting there watching an old friend sing an old favorite tune.

It just goes o show if you stick around long enough, good stuff will eventually happen. Back in 1989, when Paul began to tour again, I had the chance to see him in either Ames or Chicago, but I wasn’t in any shape to make the journey. Thus I thought my last chance to see my favorite fab four frontman forever had flittered away. Given the second chance, I had almost turned away; but now Paul was performing a song he and Linda wrote 23 years ago, and I was enjoying?! Myself.

The weakness of these tours has been the lack of any type of on-going creativity. The shows are tightly structured, the same songs are played night after night. There is a scene in Paul Simon’s movie, One Trick Pony where Simon is talking about the ultimate rock show, sarcastically calling it a "spectacle." McCartney’s show truly is that from the fireworks in "Live and Let Die," to the platform with his piano that hovers above the crowd, the rolling sheets of manuscript during "Paperback Writer," to the slide shows, particularly the one during "C’mon People" where there is a series of Linda’s work from the 60’s ending with a photo of John. That seemed a bit contrived and undeserved.

The message seemed to be a bit "Orson Wellian" as well as Orwellian. Paul is using technology to enhance his old work but at the same time has gone to great lengths to recapture the original sound as closely as he can.

Like Welles or Elvis before him, Paul’s best work might have been achieved when he was in his early 20’s. He seems to be more and more resigned to that. I don’t mean that to sound sinister. While John always strived to be an Artist with the capital "A", Paul has seemed more content with being an entertainer above all else. If this means he is on his way to becoming the next or new Sinatra, I for one can enjoy that.

Paul’s musical purpose seems to be to put on a show for his fans. He still has the desire to please. Where the message used to be in the music, now it lies in performing because his work has meant so much to so many over the years and Paul is well aware and proud of that.

I was talking to our Emmett from St. Paul a few weeks back. He had seen Paul’s performance on "Saturday Night Live" a few weeks back. Emmett wondered how anyone could not admire the enthusiasm and fun Paul still seems to be having. It was equally refreshing and inspirational to see first hand that the person who was having the best time of all last Sunday was none other than Paul himself.