Paul McCartney’s last non-McCartney project, Egypt Station, is a strong collection of works. Where The Beatles and Wings member lost his way in the pursuit of pop success during the 1980s, he spent much of the 2000s and 2010s reinventing himself as a legendary everyman. His reputation has survived, revived by the likes of Elvis Costello and anthology packages which highlighted just how instrumental McCartney has been not just in the making of all-time great songs and albums, but in influencing others to do the same. Egypt Station is an album where McCartney is paid his dues. An experience where he writes up songs of frills-free pop fun for the sake of enjoying his time in the studio. It’s a stark contrast to The Boys of Dungeon Lane and its emotionally volatile tone, the memories McCartney has pooled there are absent from this. The last time he honestly reflected was on Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, an all-timer from Macca which has a lot in common with Egypt Station and The Boys of Dungeon Lane.
What Egypt Station gets right is the McCartney image. That brand of happy-go-lucky charm with the knowledge of him as one of the greatest songwriters in history. Egypt Station starts with some soft piano music, a sound that suggests the same sombre tones as Chaos and Creation in the Backyard. But McCartney is soon bursting with energy, bounding through some brilliant instrumental moments. Percussion and piano join together for I Don’t Know, never quite swelling too loud to take the focus away from what becomes a sentimentally charged experience where McCartney notes the lessons of his family and the people he relies on in those tough times. Come On to Me holds a huge spot on the album but feels more like McCartney’s general romanticised writing, without the domestic charm or instrumental innovation. A clap-along bit of fun, that’s all. But then McCartney drops into the darker days, the Ram era mused on well with Happy With You. It’s a scattershot of emotionally testing moments, but it’s fun all the same.
McCartney tries out some “who cares” attitude on the aptly titled Who Cares and follow-up Fuh You, though neither is all that convincing. Catchy? Sure. But not convincing of a tougher take from the veteran songwriter. It’s the start of a relatively drab period for Egypt Station, a middle-of-the-road sound that McCartney had managed to avoid for much of his twenty-first-century output. Fuh You feels dreadfully dated just eight years on from its release and most of the problems are in the constant search for noise, music that feels better suited to advertisements for Apple products. It’s very unlike McCartney, but there you go. He saves Egypt Station from this passive freeze with some outstanding work tucked away in the latter stages of the album.
Usually charming moments from McCartney, like Confidante, fall flat here. They’re nice enough, floaty little ditties about how trust and love are what gets him through the twilight years, but there’s an inherent lack of spirit and charm to it now. Songs like People Want Peace are so on the nose it hurts, but then McCartney dusts himself down and delivers an outstanding song like Do It Now or Despite Repeated Warnings. Two of his very best there, and that doesn’t even consider the album’s closing song, Hunt You Down / Naked / C-Link. Ambitious moments from McCartney in the final stages of a brilliant album. Egypt Station suffers from a bit of an imbalance but, ultimately, there’s enough here to make for a charming and worthy listen. McCartney sounds great, the instrumentals linger on that fine balance of Beatles and Wings influence with the steadier, modern sound the veteran songwriter has realised works for him. Hand in Hand and Dominoes highlight that, and they’re the calm before the storm of a very strong end to Egypt Station.
