Drive.

With a longer drive to work, I now have more time to listen to music. Until a week ago I generally managed one song. On good traffic days, that journey was just over 3 minutes; on bad days it was still under 4 minutes. Now my trip is closer to half an hour each way and so every day I get to enjoy an entire album.

I've been revisiting my teenage years, listening to the remasters of McCartney's albums. Yesterday (pun not intended) I checked out Wings Over America. This morning was McCartney II. Last week I listened to Ram, and Band On The Run.

Surprisingly, I think Ram holds up rather well. Band On The Run, like much of his other work since, has a few special moments but is generally shallow and lightweight.   McCartney II sounds like demos that should have stayed that way. Wings Over America, being a selection of his personal and The Beatles' best, works quite well.

I've posted before about how so many of our old rockers have lost their musical way. In McCartney's case I think he's lost touch with more than just his musical beginnings. How could such an influential rocker have become the parody of himself that he now is?

I suspect it has to do with a number of things. Looking back at documentaries from the early 60s I can see glimpses, with the added benefit of hindsight, of what he would become. The last to leave when the cameras are running, the continual hamming, the lame jokes, and the willingness to please and be seen as the nice guy. And the continual rewriting of Beatles history.

By the late 60s McCartney was the most business savvy of the Fab Four, the one who was stockpiling Apple shares surreptitiously. I suspect once that became his focus, once he started to grow up and become an adult, he lost that edge, that creativity.

I recently had a discussion about this with an artist I know. His view was that our creative types need to remain like children. And that means innocent, full of questions, seeing wonder, and, sometimes, behaving childish. And this is a problem record companies and management have - they want their artists to be creative, but want them to behave like business people.

Very few manage to 'stay young' once they get old and rich. Neil Young is one of the few exceptions I can think of.

Is this true of writing also? What does this mean for our future, when so much of the business and financial responsibility is being thrown back on artists?

Vale: Donald 'Duck' Dunn.

Reports from Tokyo suggest Dunn has passed away in his sleep, aged 70.

Best known for his membership of The Blues Brothers Band with Belushi and Ackroyd, Dunn came from Booker T and the MGs, as well as playing on many, many STAX singles, such as Respect, by Otis Redding.

In later years, as a session man, his bass was heard on tracks by everyone from Tom Petty to Neil Young and Eric Clapton.

I never got to see him play live, but as a regular 'Blues Brother' at the Valhalla Cinema during the mid 80s, I must have seen him on that film well over 200 times. (I stopped counting at 186.) Pipe firmly in mouth, bass grooving along with Willie Hall's drums. Amazing.

 A talented player. He will be missed.

Out Across The Universe.

Next weekend I'll be out with other members of the Astronomical Society of Victoria for the annual Messier Night. I have a few friends coming along - for some it'll be their first time - for others - well, let's just say they're hooked now!

It's been a while since my scope has been serviced, so tomorrow I'm rolling over to my mate's place where it'll get all the TLC it needs.  Mick knows how to treat it good.  He should - after all he built it. And once it's all shiny and clean and swivelling smoothly on fresh teflon pads (and with the Naglers and Televues I borrowed from another friend) the universe will be my oyster.

Ah yes. There's nothing quite as relaxing as sitting under a dark sky with a friend and a brew, listening to Neil Young, talking crap and staring into deep space.  And at that those wee small hours, I find I get some weird ideas which later work their way into stories.

Dr. E will be there, as will Mr. J and a few other SEDNA members. (There are only 6 SEDNA members, and I suspect we'll all be there.) Great nights, great stories - many of which shall remain unshared.

But if you are free next weekend, come and join us - I'll show you space as you've only ever imagined it.

The Emperor's New Clothes.

I recently saw Neil Young in concert, and during the show it occurred to me that he was still relevant and vital. Even his recent albums have been strong. (OK, maybe not Living With War, but at least that had a purpose!)

You see, I had this theory that it was hard to be an inspiring (and inspired) artist when you’re a sixty-something multi-millionaire. Can you be an ‘angry young lion’ when you sleep on 1000 count Egyptian cotton sheets, with a dozen expensive cars parked in the garage on your ranch?

Over the past few years, the dinosaurs of rock (Dylan, McCartney and so on) have received great reviews for new albums. On its release, I listened to the McCartney album, Memory Almost Full, and was thrilled I hadn’t actually purchased it. And yet people raved about it.

What is it I am missing?

I'm a Beatle (and a Paul) completist (Yes, I even have mono mixes of Ram) but I can't understand the high praise for this piece of crap.

I found it to be sedate, pedestrian, uninspired and quite dull - the sort of throw-aways that show Paul is sorely lacking a foil, someone who'll look him in the eye and tell him that a song is substandard.

Would an unknown artist have even landed a deal with this disc as a demo? I'd be surprised.

The best album since...? Well, to be honest that's not hard -- Paul's releases over the past decade or two have been scattershot at best. And although Chaos and Creation had moments, it wasn't as superb as people claimed.

Paul stated somewhere that this album was mostly written (and even recorded) before the previous album, which means it's not a response to the divorce.

What a shame! Maybe a bit of anger and angst is what he needs.....

Maybe people are so desperate for new Beatle product that any glimmer of hope is immediately seized upon and put on a pedestal. Thank goodness Neil is around to carry the torch.