In an era where most arena-level artists rely on over-the-top production to wow their audiences, Paul McCartney stands out as one who defies the norm. Yes, he employs some special effects, pyro, and advanced video components, but it’s largely the impact of his timeless music and ability to connect intimately with his fans that creates a singular experience where, no matter how many times you see him, it feels like the first time every time. Need proof? Just ask the guy who celebrated his 139th viewing (McCartney called him out personally) at Saturday’s performance at the Alamodome in San Antonio.
Statistically speaking, there were likely more fans amidst the 45,000-strong crowd who’d never seen the former Beatle live, and the experience was made all the more special given it marked his return to San Antonio after more than a decade away – never mind the fact that his only other performance at the Alamodome was for its opening night in 1993.
The evening began with the blissfully energetic classic “Help!,” which was hardly a call for assistance – without a single break over the course of nearly three hours (save for a quick reprieve prior to the encore), the 83-years-young master proved that age is just a number. A handful of vocal rough spots were barely noticeable as he and his fourpiece band powered through 35 songs, including 20 Beatles cuts ranging from power-pop classics (“Drive My Car,” “Love Me Do”) to deep cuts (“In Spite of All the Danger,” their debut demo as the Quarrymen) and the most psychedelic (“For the Benefit of Mr. Kite!”).
Interspersed were the best of McCartney’s solo and Wings songbooks, which exuded youthful vigor, most notably among the former category; McCartney deftly pounded out the ragtime piano of “Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five,” ripped through electric guitar riffs on “Let Me Roll It,” and blew the roof off the place with the pyro-laden banger “Live and Let Die,” definitively the most elaborate portion of the show’s production.
Then there were tear-inducing ballads like “Here Today,” a solemn tribute to John Lennon (released in 1982, two years after the death of his bandmate as a way to literally say “I love you”) and “Something,” dedicated to George Harrison and played on a ukulele gifted from him before he passed away in 2001. And few dry eyes remained during “Blackbird,” forever touching in its arrestingly beautiful simplicity.
Lennon got an extra nod on “Now and Then,” a “new” Beatles track, which was originally conceived by the artist as a solo demo in 1977 and eventually filled out by McCartney and drummer Ringo Starr in 2023, with overdubs from Harrison pulled from an ultimately abandoned stab at recording it for The Beatles Anthology in 1995. That song was backdropped by footage of the Fab Four, which included AI versions of Lennon and Harrison – a little corny in their antics, but a fitting homage to the band’s notoriously whimsical music videos.
Macca made several personal connections with his fans in between tunes. His nightly tradition of reading hand-drawn signs offered quite a few standouts, including “139” (from the aforementioned veteran attendee), “Sign my butt,” and “Marry us, Paul.” The latter resulted in McCartney inviting the young couple up to the stage for a proposal, only for them to reveal they’d already gotten married that day. That bit turned out more cringe than emotional, but McCartney quickly flipped the script by launching into “Let It Be,” which sparked an exultant sing-along that was only overtaken by the heart-swelling chorus of main set finale “Hey Jude.”
Those moments highlighted the power of McCartney’s music to make his shows feel at once personal and unifying. They’re reflections of a man whose whole career has been geared toward changing lives not by indulging in performative political grandstanding, but by fostering love. Even after nearly 70 years of performing, he’s positively bursting with it and remains steadfast in his mission to highlight humanity’s universal capacity to harness and share it for good. As he does every night, he drove it home with the final lyrics of encore closer “The End”: “And in the end/ The love you take/ Is equal to the love you make.”