Strange name, strange album. Drafting in top indie producer Nigel Godrich and playing all the instruments himself, Paul McCartney's latest has clearly been a real labour of love. Subdued, mournful and often very pretty, it comes across as the work of a man coming to terms with a great personal loss, almost as if it's a delayed reaction to the death of his first wife Linda. This gives the songs a bite that his solo material has often lacked, and some musical nods to the Beatles show that his gift for melody remains gloriously intact. Unfortunately his gift for sickly sentimentality is intact too, and the album is badly let down by some overwrought singing and saccharine lyrics. Still, while it's no classic, there's a human warmth here that suggests that Chaos... could yet be a grower.
