Run Devil Run

In which a rich, elderly, celebrity widower tries to rekindle the fires of his youth. And succeeds magnificently.

With The Beatles, Paul McCartney was always well capable of delivering a rasping rocker ('I’m Down', 'Helter Skelter' etc) and here he applies his unmistakeable tonsils to a set of mainly ’50s rockers associated with such legends as Elvis ('All Shook Up') Chuck Berry ('Brown-Eyed Handsome Man'), Carl Perkins ('Movie Magg'), Little Richard ('Shake A Hand') and Fats Domino ('Coquette') – and in the process turns in such exuberant performances that it should encourage many of the Oasis generation to check out their heroes' musical ancestry.

Part of the success of Run Devil Run is down to the natural immediacy of the recordings, mostly done live in the studio with no overdubs, and the quality of the band, including Dave Gilmore and Ian Paice, who apply themselves to the job in hand with an almost missionary zeal.

With McCartney's voice sounding better than it has in decades, and still capable of imbuing the tritest lyric with a welter of passion, the combo adds some truly delicious moments, like the bass on 'Blue Jean Bop', the crisp piano and guitar solos on 'She Said Yeah', the thumping drums on 'All Shook Up', the accordion on 'Brown-Eyed Handsome Man' and so on.

Unlike Lennon's somewhat destructive approach to classic rock tunes in his solo career, McCartney plays it straight and respectful. It's only when he tries on some of Elvis' old suits that he loses the argument. Of course some will claim that if you really want to capture the spirit of the early days of rock ’n’ roll you'd be better off checking out some true originals – forgetting that McCartney can claim to be as true an exponent of this genre as Rick Nelson or even Gene Vincent. We're not talking Shakin' Stevens here.

Nor has he opted, compilation-style, for too many obvious classics, preferring to dig deeper into the vaults for such rarities as 'Coquette' by Fats Domino and 'No Other Baby' by The Vipers. Even his own trio of songs, although none of them might have been easily allowed onto a Beatles' album, fit seemlessly into the affray, with 'What It Is' a particularly impressive contribution.

So now we know. Rock ’n’ roll is the new rock ’n’ roll and Paul McCartney was always the new Elvis. It just took us a while to find out.