Yesterday, I listened to a few tracks of a bootleg that I downloaded some time ago: the demos to Paul McCartney's "Venus And Mars." The album was the shiznit for me back in the day (still reeling from the Beatles), but it had grown cartoonish in my memory. But as early critics have often hinted, McCartney's best stuff is like a good omelet: under-produced. Haunting, it was, to hear those scratchy and noisy demos of songs that grown stale through over-hearing. It was like hearing them for the first time, again. Particularly "Love In Song." Just very, very strange to think that it's thirty years old. The Beatles canon has not been allowed to grow that old. I wondered about men my age, thinking of Glenn Miller, in 1975.