... of last night's show at Fenway. The first one comes from Blast Magazine out of Boston, and it was penned by Jill Vallecorsa, a blogger and writer whom I follow on Twitter.
Not once during the two and a half hour set (plus two encores) did McCartney ever appear tired, not even for a second. The ever dapper musician is 67-years-old, although if you ignored the giant screens, from where I sat one would think he was still that young cherub-cheeked lad from Liverpool.
From the instantly recognizable opening of “Drive My Car” to the final resounding notes of “The End” there were predictable, nostalgic and some surprising song choices. A multitude of Beatles’ hits went down including “Got to Get You into My Life,” “Back in the USSR” and “Let it Be.” Whatever McCartney’s doing to preserve his vocal chords is working — he can still belt out “I’m Down” and “Helter Skelter” with no trouble at all.
The second review is courtesy of The Boston Globe.
McCartney is not an ostentatious performer, but he’s a lovable ham. A few songs in, he removed his buttoned-up jacket to reveal a white Oxford shirt with red suspenders. On two occasions, he rallied the ladies to scream by casually mentioning how the Beatles could never hear themselves in the old days because of the deafening shrieks. You have to hand it to him: This guy knows he’s beloved and loves his fans right back.