Great Moments on Video №16: Wings - Medicine Jar
(probably The Forum, Inglewood, California, June 22 or 23, 1976)
Great Moments on Video №16: Wings - Medicine Jar
(probably The Forum, Inglewood, California, June 22 or 23, 1976)
While the Beatles have plenty of great live moments on video, the overall effect is usually more of a cumulative one — the screaming girls of 1963–66 are just as much a part of the experience as the music itself, if not more so, and because of this, it is hard to single out individual moments. To say that a particular preserved clip of a Beatles’ concert stands out more than the others is the equivalent of picking your favorite tidal wave, or something like that.
After the Beatles went their own ways and things settled down a bit, the nature of the problem became completely different. John and George did not perform live all that much, except for special events; and Paul McCartney as a live performer, particularly ever since his re-emergence as a constant touring act in 1989, has always been more of a «living legend» on stage than somebody to whom performing live was the main mechanism of keeping the music alive and fresh. Naturally, Paul is almost always having a lot of fun, and if Paul’s having fun, then the audience is also having fun — but even so, his appearance is typically of the «Jesus Christ» kind. There is no real demand on the part of the audience for him to prove anything — he can do whatever he wants, as long as the «whatever» always includes ‘Hey Jude’ and ‘Yesterday’. Even my own memories of seeing him live — May 24, 2003, on Red Square — bring the event back to me as an event, an overall feeling that cannot be separated into distinct moments. It was a historical happening, but it was far from the best concert I’ve ever seen.
But it wasn’t always quite like that. Back in the 1970s, Paul McCartney actually had something to prove to his audiences — and his audiences were totally not against having him prove it to them. He had to prove that he, James Paul McCartney, could go on being a creative, inspired, and relevant pop music artist in his own right; and that his new band, Wings, though certainly not as talented on the whole as his old band, could still hold its own against the stadium rock giants of the decade, such as Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd. Wings’ setlists from the mid-1970s only included a small portion of Beatles’ songs, with most of the repertoire coming from Paul’s recent solo albums — and the audiences seemed generally content with that; at the very least, I have no information about angry herds of fans leaving the arenas in 1976 mumbling and grumbling about there having been no ‘Hey Jude’ or ‘All My Loving’, and having to sit through ‘Silly Love Songs’ or ‘Letting Go’ instead.
The Rockshow movie, originally released in 1980, is a fine document of that era, a must-have for everybody who takes Wings’ mid-Seventies material seriously (and, like me, does not believe for a moment that McCartney’s talents were scattered to the wind after Band On The Run), provided the glitzy fashions of the 1970s are not too much of a turn-off for you (I do kind of like Linda in her «badass head witch of the coven» black feather outfit — give me the fairy tale witchy woman look of the 1970s over the big hair from outer space look of the 1980s any day). But the biggest surprise of Wings’ concerts in that period is that occasionally, Paul would deliberately cede the spotlight to some of his bandmates — and this actually did not result in the enjoyability factor dropping down at all.
In fact, if there is one bit of footage on Rockshow to which I typically find myself returning more frequently than the others, it is this performance by lead guitarist Jimmy McCulloch of his own composition ‘Medicine Jar’, off the Venus And Mars album — with Paul offering reliable support on bass and backing vocals.
Poor Jimmy McCulloch is one of those generally forgotten, mid-tier musicians of rock music’s greatest era who had plenty of talent to burn but ended up burning it in all the wrong ways, all the wrong places, and far too quickly, having first made a bit of a name for himself as part of Thunderclap Newman in 1969 (being just 16 years old), then going through a short solo career, a stint with Stone The Crows, and finally playing in Wings from 1974 to 1977; he died of overdosing in 1979, not even old enough to be admitted to the «27 Club», and not strong enough to heed his own warning about "sticking your hand in the medicine jar".
He really was one of the best «no-weird-business-just-pure-feeling» blues-rock guitarists in the UK at the time, and his role in Wings is arguably best comparable to that of Mick Taylor in the Rolling Stones — bringing in a fresh, highly technical, near-virtuoso, but perfectly heartfelt vibe that helped steer both bands through a period of extremely high requirements for rock bands, both in the studio and (especially) in live performance. Without a doubt, he was the single best lead guitar player to ever share the stage with Paul in his post-Beatle years, and, just like Mick Taylor, he had that cute, shy, youthful aura of humility that made them both really stand out in the middle of the «me decade». Throughout the video, he does not really do much of anything other than singing and playing — even when his face begins contorting during the solo bit, you can see that he is simply being carried by the music, rather than consciously putting on a show; Paul is actually doing all the jumping around, as if he believed the song needed additional support to help get the audience on their feet.
‘Medicine Jar’ is one of Jimmy’s best compositions (although I’m pretty partial to ‘Wino Junko’ off the Speed Of Sound album), and one of the most appropriate choices for Wings to take to the stage — as a song written by an actual rocker at heart, it really does rock harder than most of Paul’s own compositions, although, true to the band’s vision of themselves as pop perfectionists, Jimmy does not allow himself to stray too far from the studio original; not just the main riff, but even most of the little lead phrases that act as counterpoints for the vocals are fairly faithfully reproduced from the studio recording. (Only the final solo, corresponding to the quick fade-out on the studio version, allows Jimmy to stretch out and improvise a bit). Amusingly, I think Paul ends up deviating from the original even more than Jimmy does here, taking his typically melodic «lead bass» into whatever direction fate guides him, particularly on the solo.
Extra cute moments include Linda’s sticking her hand in the medicine jar at about 2:00 into the video (allegedly, she had a pretty tense relationship with Jimmy, who always resented the fact that she was kept in the band exclusively for her family status; "she doesn’t know much about music, but she’s a nice chick", he is reported to have said upon leaving the band); Paul’s quirky, ridiculous hand wave at 3:17 right before he goes into the big bass zoop that re-emphasizes the last chorus; and the entirety of the final solo where all the band just lets their hair hang down for a few bars.
I’m not exactly sure, myself, why I find myself so specifically attracted to this particular moment in the show — but maybe it’s just the fun factor of seeing McCartney so happily accepting the role of backing musician and singer in his own band, something that we’d never see him do any more in the post-Wings era. Or maybe it’s the tinge of sadness caused by seeing the combination of Jimmy McCulloch’s cute baby face and his beautiful mastery of the Gibson SG, and then realizing that here stands another miserable non-survivor of the rock’n’roll lifestyle — who, ironically, of all the people standing there on stage looks like the least likely adherent of the rock’n’roll lifestyle. Strange enough, I sometimes catch myself feeling more sorry for the likes of Jimmy than I do for the likes of Janis, Jimi, and Jim — at least all of that holy trinity may have said to have properly realized the purposes of their lives before going down. But who in the world is ever going to wear a Jimmy McCulloch T-shirt?..
Round about 1976-7, I was channeling my musical interest towards classical stuff, mainly Mahler, Sibelius and Purcell, amongst many others. So bands like Wings were rarely on my radar, and with the onslaught of Punk soon thereafter, didn't return to Pop/Rock full time until the glorious 1980's. Which means Wings songs from this period are new to my ears, but I knew enough about them to imagine that if anyone in McCartney's new band could bring something musically interesting, it would be Denny Lane, he of the ace formative Moody Blues group, before they went (sometimes gfloriously) soppy and classically-influenced.
So this cut with McCullough is a minor revelation, all the more appealing for its breezy insouciance and tight musicianship, never excessive as so much rock could be at this time. Good choice, even though catching up with Wings' back catalogue has never been at the top of my Must-Do list.
About a week before this review I was spinning "Wings over America". I'm a hardly a Beatles fanatic and mostly have allergic reactions to Paul, but that album is one of the top live albums of all time. Big, encyclopedic, filled with hooks and probably the only time in Paul's career that the songs have muscles, thanks mostly to the great Jimmy McCulloch whose energetic, fiery performances really put it on another level. Like Tommy Bolin, a great, underrated and all too soon gone guitarist. Great to see images with the sounds.