WILD LIFE...once upon a time, Wayne Gretzky scored 92 goals in a season...unparalleled, unfathomable and unequivocally the feat that sets him apart from all the seasons to come and prove to be an unmeasurable aspiration for everyone to lace on skates forever...Then, a couple of years later, he tallied 87...A few years later, he was down to single digit tallies...When he was in a precipitous decline, it was obvious-The Great One was just that in name only...But he was allowed to plod along at his own pace until he felt his time was up...The media slung their arrows and their pronouncements for him to retire became louder and louder...But, no one, had the temerity to sit down with him, face to face, and say "Wayne, its over"...Superstars are afforded different parameters than the rank and file of human life...Living legends are afforded even more...Jeter had the same courtesy extended to his waning career...Out of respect to their accomplishments, we cower, demur, and grow silent in our discord, until the unthinkable happens...they become human, right before our eyes...Willie Mays was dropping fly balls in centerfield as his illustrious career came to an embarrassing conclusion...Roberto Duran, was getting slugged around by the Kirkland Laings of the world, and Mohammed Ali was getting pummeled before our very eyes...Its a tough thing to see...Whether you were a fan or not, the realization that time and tide wait for no man strikes a chord in our very foundation that shows us that our own mortality is imminent... How does this relate to WILD LIFE...? Paul Mccartney scored 92 goals with Hey Jude, 87 goals with Let It Be and here comes His 9 goal season, in the form of BIP BOP...And that's the dichotomy for me, I love Wild Life, but it stinks...I dreaded to review this album, because its one of my favorites of the MAC, but, it stinks...His new band, Wings, was formed as a result of Mccartney's need to be a part of a group, which he always loved, yet, its players allowed him the courtesy to push his agenda, unchecked, unbridled and unchallenged as he exposes his one professional flaw, his judgement...There has always been a story going 'round, that when Paul, went solo and was confronted with criticism from his band mates or producers about his material, his response would be, "and how many hit records have you had"?...Tough point to argue...But, left to his own devices, he could be the Little League parent/coach who doesn't realize that his own son may not be the best shortstop/pitcher on the team with a fast track to the majors...At a pivotal point in his solo career, Mccartney digs a deleterious crater for himself that he struggled for many years to reclamate...This album, along with the uninspired and ill-advised, Mary Had A Little Lamb, a few short months later, leave Mccartney with an incredulous blemish to a stellar career almost to the same degree that "No mas" has conjugated Duran's... The album opens with the tape machine rolling and Wings hammering out a straight ahead rocker called MUMBO, and mumbo it is...With no discernible melody or lyric, MUMBO has little redeeming value...But, if you haven't learned by now, every Mccartney song, no matter how banal, pedantic, polite or pedestrian that it might be, has some moment of heightened awareness for the listener...and MUMBO has just that...Our fearless leader, at one point, is actually playing CHORDS on the bass...Not an easy trick to this naive ear...The next track can be considered the nadir of Paul's career...Whether, he was dumbing down his music to accommodate the Lovely Linda's freshman indoctrination to musicianship or his domestic lifestyle took the edge off of his craft, Bip Bop is a tough one to defend...Its cloyingly, babyish lyric, simplicity of arrangement and mundane melody seems to be the equivalent of Mays dropping those fly balls in the outfield...But again, there is a meritable mention...Actually listen to the guitar accompianment ...Quite a clever display of dexterity that actually makes the tune listenable...Bad judgement rears its ugly head again with the next track, the reggae remake of Mickey and Sylvia's 50's hit, LOVE IS STRANGE...Not a bad cover version and generally quite inventive with its arrangement, It still is unfathomable that this number was chosen as the lead off single to represent this lp...How in the world does anybody not have the guts to say, "excuse me Paul, but are you effen nuts"...? With a track like "Tomorrow" only a few slots down this albums layout, one wonders if Mccartney could ever be trusted again to effectively consider the merits of his own songs...TOMORROW is an exquisite piece of vinyl...As dino27, stated earlier, do yourself a favor and give it a whirl...The song is so full of effortless melodic conquest, spurred along by lyrical imagery and a sparkling musical arrangement that one wonders if Paul's obsession with marijuana had impaired his inability to judge his material to an almost alarming level...Couple this song, with the richly textured and harmonic excellence of SOME PEOPLE NEVER KNOW with its climactic drive to the finish line before its subversive denouement and you realize that MAC still has some juice left in the tank...These two numbers alone, justify the albums existence...I can easily overlook its other failings...I Am Your Singer is a Paul/Linda duet that falls flat in its simplicity, although the bongo percussive touches render it as an interesting listen...Somewhere, in this albums musical schizophrenic menu are two other tunes that I can't quite dismiss...The title track, WILD LIFE, is an attempt at social consciousness...Paul and Linda's animal loving/vegetarian ideology manifest in this song with a simplistically, naive lyric set up over a bluesy backdrop...Mccartney's vocal saves the day...Vocally, Paul has always been a chameleon, whether it's the heavy metal blasting of Helter Skelter or the sweet acerbicness of I WILL, Mccartney delivers...his snarling, dramatic, begging vocal acrobatic presentation only adds another job reference to an already full vocal resume...in contrast, his boyish, almost waiflike recital during DEAR FRIEND begs John Lennon to reevaluate their antagonistic attitudes towards each other in an "olive branch" moment, considerably more endearing than his former partners assertive, insulting posturing...After this album, Paul certainly had a long, uphill climb to respectability, but, unlike athletes, cerebral rejuvenation can occur...I love this album and maybe, just maybe, in retrospect, it doesen't stink as much as I thought...C-