Releasing the odd single here or there is a luxury few artists have. This ability to put out what you want and when you want to is not afforded to those on the frontlines of grassroots venues. Heaven, the latest single from James McCartney, suggests music is more a hobby than a livelihood. That is not because of who his father may be but because of how he releases music. Occasionally dropping off a flat, familiar sound and then disappearing. Heaven, like Primrose Hill, fails to build a story or connection with the listener because McCartney is not sticking around long enough to tell it. The only sound worse than rough noise is inoffensive music. You could listen to jackhammers whirring away in the street and it would be more of an experience, because at least you’re moved to an emotional reaction. With Heaven, the suggestiveness of the song which steered Talking Heads and Cocteau Twins into interesting spots of music is nowhere to be found. McCartney offers a fascinatingly flat piece of work here.
What heaven personifies is absent from this McCartney song, and that is what has it fall so short. It’s trying to capture that overt, upbeat sensitivity of sweetness and joy but fails to note the death which comes on that journey to heaven. Not just that, even if it wasn’t needed as McCartney feels here, there is no sense of what the world may feel like with heaven as the destination. Great, fine, a good time, it’s a simple rhyming structure which McCartney deploys with such a lacking finality, such a disconnect from the real emotional consequences. His vocal work is solid though, even if his songwriting charm is quite hellish. Those vocal depths are shown off well, but briefly, on Heaven, a song which finds a line or two and repeats it until it comes to a crashing, predictable end.
Heaven as a concept means so much to so many, but to McCartney is seemingly a place of care-free living beyond life. That’s it, that’s as much as he can engage with before he starts losing interest. Our time in the mortal coil may be boring at times, but wait until you swan up the steps to the pearly gates and see McCartney with an acoustic guitar and a seat reserved for you behind a drumkit. Is it truly heaven? The issue is McCartney is a competent player, he showed as much in that one cover song he made with The Cure. Heaven is a tragedy not because of its meaninglessness but because it highlights just how great a vocalist McCartney could be with the right material. Heaven is far from that, but there’s a sudden break where he finds a deeper, harsher sound in his voice and it makes for the best part of the song.
That little moment is enough to cling to. Heaven is never going to be a song worth revisiting but it does show little slivers of promise from McCartney. Listeners would’ve hoped for that a long while ago, but late bloomers can still create worthy music. McCartney hasn’t just yet, what with Heaven sounding like a half-hearted riff on the afterlife. It stands in the middle ground. Too embarrassed to be earnest, too optimistic to consider doubt. It’d be borderline pathetic if it weren’t for the likeable instrumental sections which stock this effort from McCartney. He is always going to have the trouble of his work being compared to another McCartney namesake, but this is barely going to land near the top of the pile in a free-to-attend music workshop, let alone an actual studio with money put into the production.
