Chaos And Creation In The Backyard

Paul McCartney takes a lot of shit for not having the good sense to, y’know, die. He’s regarded as a pop lightweight while John Lennon is posthumously fêted as a genius. The fact is, McCartney has few peers as a songwriter, and his gift remains remarkably undiminished after all these years. His new album is his best in a long time: There’s a loose, rollicking vibe to the rolling, piano-led, “Fine Line,” “Jenny Wren” is a sad-eyed acoustic ballad in the tradition of the Beatles’ “Blackbird,” and strings and woodwinds are deployed nimbly across the mannered pop wonder, “English Tea.” McCartney is engaged throughout, and never gives in to the sort of self-righteous populism that birthed his horrifically dumb post-9/11 sing-along, “Freedom.” Haters like to dismiss McCartney as nothing more than a purveyor of harmless pop songs, but Chaos proves that harm is overrated anyway.