Wings - Wild Life (1971)

In late 1971, Paul McCartney walked into the London office of Sir Joseph Lockwood, chairman of the British record company EMI, "the greatest recording organisation in the world," followed by his wife Linda and two guys named Denny - Denny Laine, formerly a guitarist and lead singer with the Moody Blues, and Denny Seiwell, a New York session drummer.  As Paul was an ex-Beatle, he didn't need an appointment to see Sir Joseph; he could just walk right in.  Sir Joseph, whose company had signed the Beatles nearly a decade earlier and now distributed the now-former Beatles' Apple label, was pleased to see Paul in person; it usually meant that Paul had a new album to present.

"So, Paul," said Sir Joseph as Paul approached his desk with a reel tape tucked under his arm, "what's the occasion for this visit?"

"Well, as you might guess, Sir Joe," Paul replied, "I've got a new album ready to be released on Apple.  But that's only part of it.  I've got a new band!  I've decided that the solo thing isn't really for me, I like being in a group and working with other people.  So I have this new group of my own, which I've named Wings.  I've got here Mr. Denny Laine on guitar and a few other instruments, and Mr. Denny Seiwell on the drums, who played on my Ram album and, quite frankly, made songs like 'Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey' and 'Monkberry Moon Delight' sound better than they had a right to. And this reel tape I have here is of our first LP."

"Fantastic!" Sir Joseph said.  "So, which one's Denny?"  Paul chuckled in appreciation of the joke.

The American drummer just smiled.  "I'm pleased to be working with Paul, sir," he told the EMI chairman, "and I'm also happy to be working with Denny."

"I was going to say the exact same thing!" Laine added. "Word for word!" Laughter ensued in the room, even from Linda, who had been standing quietly by Paul's side.

"Well, I do remember Mr. Laine's work on the Moody Blues' first hit, their cover of 'Go Now,'"  said Sir Joseph, "and Ram was a smash, of course - the drumming on that record was marvelous.  I think you're on to something here, Paul.  With such accomplished musicianship all around, and your leadership, your debut album is certain to be a huge hit all over the world.  I'm sure Wings will be the best rock and roll trio since Cream!"

Paul gulped.  "You don't understand," he said.  "Linda's in the band, too.  She sings backing vocals, like she did on Ram. She also plays keyboards."

"Interesting," Sir Joseph replied. "And when did she learn to play a keyboard instrument?"

"Just before we recorded this new LP."

Now it was Sir Joseph's turn to gulp.  "I'm afraid I don't follow . . . "

"Sir Joe," Paul explained, "this album - which we're calling Wild Life - was recorded with a  batch of songs Linda and I wrote together.  Some of them, like the title track, are anorectic mid-tempo numbers that sound like they were written before breakfast, and for all I remember, they probably were.  'Wild Life' has some random lyrics about zoos, and 'Some People Never Know' and 'Tomorrow' are lightweight ballads that sound a little like some of the jingles Paul Williams has written for TV adverts in America.  Then there's 'Bip Bop,' the title of which suggests Marcel Marceau wanking off, but it's actually rather more silly and pointless than that.  It's full of dumb scat chanting revolving around three notes, the sort of scatting that Ella Fitzgerald wouldn't be caught performing, as well as lyrics like 'Put your hair in curlers, we're gonna see a band.'  The album closes with the aimless 'Dear Friend,' an open letter to John Lennon asking him to understand that I love Linda, even though that's not the main reason he's cheesed off at me.  The only proof of my enormous talent is a reggae cover of Mickey and Sylvia's 1957 hit 'Love Is Strange,' though I could have done more takes to make it better."

"Uh, umm . . . " said Sir Joseph meekly.

"Wild Life was recorded in a few days at Abbey Road, Sir Joe," said Paul, "in order to be off the cuff.  Linda's rudimentary musicianship helps make it sound even more so.  Some of the music is limpid, Linda's vocals, as anyone knows after hearing Ram, prove that she can't sing for a farthing, and the production is so much slop and glop - but  I like it.  We made up the hardest rocking track, 'Mumbo,' as we went along while the tape was rolling!  So, Sir Joe, do you have any problems with that?"

Sir Joseph just shook his head. This was one of those questions from a Beatle that no one, not even he, could say "yes" to.

"Super!" said Paul.  "When this record comes out, John'll hate it, the critics will hate it, and I may even hate myself for having done it, but some of the fans will buy it because I'm on it.  My reputation will take a serious blow, and I'm happy to have your support as I wreck my own career!"

All right, this scene involving Macca, his band, and Sir Joseph never took place, but everything I just said about Wild Life, alas, is true.  The album only reached number ten in the United States, and the relatively small number of Beatles fans who bought it were left wondering why Paul was starting his new group with the kind of anemic, insubstantial MOR music that would have embarrassed Seals and Crofts.  Wings would eventually soar - Band On the Run was only a couple of years away - but Beatles fans who felt betrayed by Paul McCartney scraping the barrels of American Tin Pan Alley clichés and English music hall buffoonery could be forgiven for sympathizing with the American rock magazine Crawdaddy, whose editors wished Wings "a crash landing."