Paul - Blog Posts
Cute
Referring to the Liverpool Institute’s February, 1960, production of Saint Joan:
Fred Bilson (L.I. teacher): “Macca was in the jury in the trial scene. For reasons too tedious and shaming to repeat, he had to wear a 'cozzie' which was a black dressing gown covered in gold cut-out suns and moons—a magician’s outfit. He thought it was cool.”
— “Tales from the Inny” Beatlology Magazine (Vol 4 No. 1, Sept/Oct 2001)
Scary!
When the band was out drinking one evening in a nightclub [during the 1972 European tour], things turned disturbingly nasty. A young man in a green jacket sidled up to Paul and calmly informed the ex-Beatle that he had a revolver in his pocket and planned to kill him. Having coolly revealed this threat to McCartney, the youth swaggered over to the bar and stood there staring and grinning at the singer. McCullough and Laine arrived not long afterward. McCartney, clearly shaken, whispered to his bandmates, telling them what had just happened and gesturing toward the stranger. The guitarists, particularly the streetwise McCullough, who had begun his musical career as a showband player in the rough Northern Irish dance halls of the early 1960s, quickly took control of the situation. Pulling a knife out of his boot, and with Laine in tow, he wandered over to the bar. The pair flanked the now flustered wannabe thug, who began to protest his innocence, claiming it had all been a misunderstood joke. Laine and McCullough quickly wrestled him to the floor and searched him, producing no weapon. As soon as they let him go, the youth scrambled to his feet and took off into the night. In McCullough’s opinion, it was “one of those incidents that happens a thousand times on a Saturday night in any given city. I felt very protective of Paul because of his vulnerability. … He needed a strong helping hand from whoever was around him.”
[—from Man on the Run: Paul McCartney in the 1970s, Tom Doyle]
“McCartney has worked so hard at seeming an ordinary bloke that it is easy to miss the least ordinary and least bloke-ish thing about him: the magnitude of his melodic gift. A genius for melody is a strange, surprisingly isolated talent, and doesn’t have much to do with a broader musical gift for composition; Mozart certainly had it, Beethoven not so much. Irving Berlin could barely play the piano and when he did it was only in a single key (F-sharp major: all the black keys), and yet he wrote hundreds of haunting tunes; André Previn, who could do anything musically as a pianist and a conductor, wrote scarcely a single memorable melody, although he did write several shows and many songs. McCartney, as Norman reminds us, had the gift in absurd abundance. Before he was twenty, he had written three standard songs—“I’ll Follow the Sun,” “When I’m Sixty-Four,” and what became “Michelle.” By the time he was thirty, he had written so many that he now seems to lose track sometimes, reviving old tunes in concert that he has half forgotten.
Someone could get a Ph.D. thesis out of studying the major-minor shifts in his Beatles songs: sometimes the change is from verse to chorus, to mark a change from affirmation to melancholy, as in “The Fool on the Hill”; sometimes it’s in the middle of a phrase, as in “Penny Lane,” to capture a mood of mixed sun and showers. These are things that trained composers do by rote; McCartney did them by feel—like Irving Berlin writing for Fred Astaire, he was a rare thing, a naturally sophisticated intuitive. Lennon’s tragic martyrdom, and McCartney’s fall from critical favor, made it seem as though one had been regarded as a more consequential figure than the other. In truth, throughout the nineteen-sixties Paul’s musical primacy was largely taken for granted. In 1966, the critic Kenneth Tynan, a hard man to please, proposed doing a profile of Paul, in preference to John, because he was ‘by far the most interesting of the Beatles and certainly the musical genius of the group.’“
Paul McCartney, portrait au miroir.
Taken in Obertauern, Austria during the filming of Help! Photos by Jean-Pierre Ducatez.
this photo does things to me
Genuinely a bit scary.
what if you HATED MUSICALS and everyone wanted to DANCE AND SING and then you got INFECTED and your girlfriend fucking DIED
Start George John Henry William Paul
Start George John Henry William Paul
This is also another lost boys fic that I really enjoyed :)
‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 1
Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn’t care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part One]
GIF courtesy of @daebom + Original GIF Post
Words: 6.5K Warnings: I have no idea what this is. I wanted just a quick little scene where the boys are taking care of a sick S/O and it turned into this. Fml. Sorry for their OOC-ness.
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I need this one too, dang... the beatles eating also looks fine, why oh why me....
