There is no greater way of getting every generation interested in a song than by pairing two greats. Barbra Streisand finds herself with ample material for her upcoming album, pairing with the likes of Bob Dylan, Hozier, and Ariana Grande to keep herself in that prominent, star power spot. Understandably so. With The Secret of Life: Partners Volume Two, there is a chance Streisand could storm the pop charts not with quality but through osmosis. In the vicinity of fame are the famous, and in their sphere are names which, whether we like it or not, are permanent. Streisand is the everywoman, a powerhouse performer who became the first EGOT winner. Her work with Paul McCartney on My Valentine highlights that not everyone can carry the torch of quality into their later works. A cover of the Kisses on the Bottom track is safe territory, likeable, too.
Though it does not trump the charm of McCartney’s late-stage track, My Valentine with Streisand performing a duet is delightful. A re-recording for McCartney, a chance to work with someone highly regarded for their past achievements. A mirror view for McCartney, then. Both can still sing. Their pipes are clean, their effort here earnest. It is all too easy to hear late-stage artists commit themselves to unpacking and reassessing their hits, but the easy listening charm of My Valentine in this form is not lost on either performer. Some light guitar work which, had it been a bit heavier, would be lifted for a Rough and Rowdy Ways performance by Bob Dylan, is crucial to this release. Streisand turns up the Hollywood factor, too, making this piece a tremendous offering for those who have the free time and money to have a “lounge” in their home. For those of us who shifted a few boxes and turned the spare room into an at-home office, My Valentine merely showcases the luxury of which we are not yet able to touch.
It is at times tremendous, at others too soppy for it, or the audience’s own good. The charm of My Valentine in its original form is the blur McCartney manages to create when crediting past loves, current flames, and future romances. It is the lack of detail, the sporadic hits of emotion and commitment to the journey through life which makes it so remarkable. With Streisand added to the mix, it turns a sole commitment into a joint conversation, and it weakens the song. Kisses on the Bottom relied on McCartney reforming his relationship with love, massaging the grooves on his own terms and finding the key to healthy relationships along the way. That much is stripped from the Streisand-featuring song.
An odd choice for the duo to tackle, as it strips the meaning and core beauty of My Valentine away. What is left is a fairly static love song reliant on the heavy-hitting name of both performers. It is usually the case for collaborative covers, so few listeners will be surprised. Those who are will not be as easily fooled, they are not to be dragged into the easy listening lounge, where Streisand has enlisted the greats of history to cover, capture, and cause suffering. Catch it in the right mood and My Valentine is a beautiful number. But with Streisand and McCartney trying all too hard to be charming, it makes for a sickening adaptation of an original with real heart.
