Barnes & Noble
Paul McCartney says he was looking to make a back-to-basics album when he entered the studio to record Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, and there's no question that he's managed to re-create the easygoing-but-charged atmosphere of his embryonic solo work. As on 1970's McCartney, the Rock and Roll Hall of Famer did just about everything himself on the disc, picking up instruments as varied as guitar, flugelhorn, and harmonium. That process of sonic spelunking led him into some intriguing territory -- like the sultry Brazilian beaches that imbue the lightly bossa novabrushed "A Certain Softness" with, well, just what its title implies. Equally intriguing is "How Kind of You," with its enveloping drones, an addition that McCartney credits to au courant producer Nigel Godrich (best known for his work with Beck and Radiohead). Godrich makes his mark elsewhere, daubing "Riding to Vanity Fair" with strings 'n' things that transform the song from Brit-folk nostalgia into timeless pop that's hard to pigeonhole. For all the forward-looking touches, however, Chaos and Creation in the Backyard finds McCartney more comfortable with his past than he has been in years. In addition to slapping a photo of his teenage self on the disc's cover, he borrows -- by his own admission -- from some of his classic work, returning to "Blackbird"-styled finger-picking on the flute-dappled "Jenny Wren" and summoning up the spirit of Magical Mystery Tour on the bouncy "Fine Line." There are moments -- "English Tea," for instance -- where Sir Paul tries to get away with skating by on a half-finished idea (remember "Bip Bop," anyone?). But for every such moment of chaos, there's a passel of wonderful creations. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Quiet though it may be, Paul McCartney experienced something of a late-career renaissance with the release of his 1997 album Flaming Pie. With that record, he shook off years of coyness and half-baked ideas and delivered an album that, for whatever its slight flaws, was both ambitious and cohesive, and it started a streak that continued through the driving rock & roll album Run Devil Run and its 2001 follow-up, Driving Rain. For Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, the follow-up to that record, McCartney tried a different tactic, returning to the one-man band aesthetic of his debut album, McCartney, its latter-day sequel, McCartney II, and, to a lesser extent, the home-spun second album, Ram. Apart from a guitar part or two, a couple of drum tracks, and, of course, the strings and horns that pop up now and again, McCartney played everything here, from the guitars and keyboards down to the bass and drums. The difference here is that instead of producing the record by himself, McCartney brought in alt-rock auteur Nigel Godrich, best known as the producer behind Radiohead's OK Computer and Beck's Mutations, as well as being the only producer responsible for a streamlined Pavement record. Godrich has a gift for making messy or difficult music sound simple, logical, and clean, and he has that same effect on Chaos and Creation, removing the obvious rough edges and home-spun charm that characterized Macca's previous one-man affairs. Consequently, Chaos sounds as polished as a normal McCartney album, as polished as Driving Rain, but the process of its creation and recording does make this a very different album from not just its predecessor, but from most of McCartney's solo albums. It's quiet and meditative, not without its share of eccentricities, nor without its share of sprightly tunes -- certainly, the opener, "Fine Line," is a propulsive, hooky song that burrows into your head after just one spin and sounds like a tune you've known all your life, and "Promise to You Girl" also zips along nicely -- but the overall feel of the record is one that's reflective and ruminative, not messy or silly. Or whimsical or treacly, for that matter, since the combination of introspective ballads and intricately detailed but not overly fussy or polished production means that Chaos and Creation in the Backyard is a rare thing indeed: a McCartney album that's devoid of cuteness or easy sentiment. Which doesn't mean that it's somber or lacking in romantic material -- Paul loves his love songs, after all -- but the tone and timbre of the album is so simple, stripped-down, and sincere that all the music resonates a little deeper and feels a little more heartfelt. If there are no outright knockouts here, there are no weak spots, either, and if the album doesn't have the sprawl and quirks or overt humor of his classic solo albums from Ram through Tug of War, that's OK, because Chaos and Creation in the Backyard offers something different: not only is Paul in an unusually reflective mode, but he's made a lean, cohesive record that holds together better than his previous latter-day high-water mark, Flaming Pie -- which is unusual, since McCartney albums rarely, if ever, come without spots of filler. The quiet nature of Chaos and Creation may mean that some listeners will pass it over quickly, since it's a grower, but spend some time with the record and it becomes clear that McCartney is far from spent as either a songwriter or record-maker and, in many ways, continues to make some of the best music of his solo career. Stephen Thomas Erlewine