When Paul McCartney released “Coming Up” in 1980, the world was unsure what to expect from him anymore. The Beatles were long gone, Wings had reached their end, and Paul — ever the experimenter — was once again alone in his studio, chasing something new. What he found wasn’t nostalgia or melancholy, but joy. “Coming Up” wasn’t just a song; it was a declaration — of renewal, of creativity, of refusing to fade quietly into the past.
It begins with that strange, funky groove — sharp guitars, a bouncing bassline, and Paul’s playful falsetto cutting through the rhythm. “You want a love to last forever…” he sings, his voice elastic, full of mischief and light. The track feels alive, unpredictable, like someone rediscovering how good it feels to make music for the sheer fun of it. It’s McCartney reminding the world — and maybe himself — that he didn’t need a band to find magic again.
“Coming up, like a flower…” he chants with a grin you can almost hear. The line feels like rebirth — a man springing back to life after years of creative exhaustion. It’s optimism without apology, confidence without ego. McCartney, the eternal melodist, turns simplicity into celebration. And beneath all the groove and charm lies something quietly profound: the courage to keep evolving when the world wants you to repeat the past.
The song’s layered production — quirky, tight, and full of invention — captures his genius for reinvention. Every instrument is Paul: the drums, the bass, the harmonies, all recorded in his farmhouse studio in Scotland. It’s an anthem of independence, created in solitude but brimming with connection. When the live version took off — the one that even John Lennon famously admired — it proved something beautiful: that Paul’s light could still shine bright enough to bridge the distance between old friends.
“Coming Up” is more than just funky pop — it’s McCartney’s manifesto for joy. It says that creativity doesn’t fade with time; it evolves. It’s the sound of an artist laughing with the muse again, trusting instinct over expectation.
And when you listen now, decades later, the song still feels fresh — vibrant, unstoppable, full of life. Paul’s voice dances, his rhythm breathes, his optimism glows. It’s not just “coming up” — it’s rising, endlessly, fearlessly, joyfully.
Because that’s what Paul McCartney has always done — he keeps finding new ways to begin again.
And in that boundless energy, that eternal melody, we remember why the music never ends.