Paul McCartney and Wings’ Band on the Run and Venus and Mars were among my favorite albums when I was a child. Lamentably, I hadn’t matured much when I became obsessed with Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade and New Day Rising a decade later.
I was displeased upon discovering Wings’ self-titled compilation and Hüsker Dü’s 1985: The Miracle Year were released on November 7. As much as I loathe revisiting my formative years, I felt obligated to evaluate the collections.
By all accounts, McCartney’s current American tour is triumphant. I’m pleased that hundreds of thousands of fans are having rapturous experiences. Listening to Wings, however, just made me sad. Rockers including “Junior’s Farm” now seem tame. Nonsense like “With a Little Luck” sounds worse than ever.
I’m less embarrassed by Hüsker Dü’s live set. Raw and ferocious, the forty-year-old recordings mirror my disheveled mindset at the time. The individual songs hold less appeal than Bob Mould’s frenetic howls and ragged guitar bashing. After investing four exhausting hours on the two releases, I needed a nap.