Paul McCartney and The Quest for Nashville's Money

The title of this blog sounds quite a bit like an adventure film. I wish it were. I'd be interested in seeing it.

So it appears that the Nashville social media universe is all abuzz [which I am shocked to find is actually a word] with the news that Sir Paul McCartney is playing at the Bridgestone Arena this summer. Why Nashville seems to care is beyond me.

That's right.

When I was 15 years old, right about the time I got the nickname with which I have been saddled for these past, well, 15 years, I discovered Rubber Soul. It all... you know... just made so much sense. Especially the track "Drive My Car"... because it was a euphemism for one thing but I thought it was actually about something else. Ah, to be young again. Which, if I had my druthers, is what Paul is probably thinking, too.

Just like every other high schooler in the past 50 years, I adored The Fab Four. Followed by stints of loving The Doors and then trying really hard to get into The Grateful Dead but then realizing that just because you have long hair and 9 1/2 fingers doesn't necessarily make you a good musician. Maybe I'm just latently jealous that I have all ten fingers, short hair, and the closest I ever got to music immortality is my entry in the allmusic guide. At least three people know that I'm on there now. Don't get me wrong, I understand why I liked The Beatles and why I still do. What I don't understand about The Beatles is why people liked anything that they did or have done since 1970.

There. I just said what you were all thinking.

My insanely talented friend Rachel Briggs has already started the Ram argument. It's pretty good but am I going to lose my mind about it? Definitely not. Besides... Dude went on to form Wings and be a vegetarian, so that's pretty much an automatic disqualification. Listen, Paul, if you're going to form a band called Wings, which I can only assume was inspired by the culinary delight and then become a vegetarian... that's automatic grounds for me taking all of your records and smashing them in the name of Jesus just like I was encouraged to do with all of my secular albums by my youth group leader when I was in high school. Oh, and he wrote "Love Take Me Down" which is an abomination in and of itself.

It's interesting to me that an artist that hasn't released something worthwhile since the Nixon administration and who has released such turds as such as "No More Lonely Nights" and "Jet" is getting to play an arena. Notice how I didn't say that I was surprised that he does, though. Why? Because those Jonas Brothers are getting to. Because Miley Cyrus gets nominated for Golden Globes. Because that "According to You" song is huge. Because maybe, just maybe, Paul was on to something naming his post-Beatles band after a food item 'cause he knew Americans would eat it up. See what I did there? Pretty good, huh?

So, for both of you wondering, I will not be attending Sir Paul's concert in July here in Nashville. It's not because the tickets are likely to be $75. It's not because I don't care about his music much anymore. It's not because all the auto-tune in the world ain't gonna help him out these days. It's because he hasn't been relevant since my parents were teenagers... Name me one other thing from the 1960's that you still get excited about.

I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll give you a minute to think about that.

Okay. Back.

Yeah, I didn't think so.

So, Sir Paul, that's cool that you're playing Nashville for the first time ever. I just don't think I care, though. As a matter of fact, I know I don't.