When Paul McCartney released “Coming Up” in 1980, it was more than a hit single — it was a declaration that he was alive, inventive, and still bursting with ideas after The Beatles. Recorded alone in his home studio in Scotland for the album McCartney II, the song was playful, experimental, and full of life — the sound of an artist rediscovering freedom through creativity. At a time when much of the world was caught between disco and new wave, McCartney proved he could outpace both — crafting a track that felt futuristic, funky, and unmistakably his own.
The song bursts open with a swirl of electronic rhythm and crisp guitar lines, anchored by McCartney’s buoyant bass. Then comes his voice — sped-up, elastic, and gleefully strange. “You want a love to last forever…” It’s both familiar and new, as though Paul had invented a cartoon version of himself to explore what pop music could still be. Every sound, every tone, was his — he played all the instruments, arranged the vocals, and produced it in solitude. Yet the result didn’t sound lonely. It sounded alive.
Lyrically, “Coming Up” is simple and optimistic — a song about possibility, rebirth, and energy. “Coming up, like a flower…” he sings, celebrating growth and change. Beneath the playful lyrics lies a deeper truth: McCartney was pushing back against the nostalgia that threatened to define him. After The Beatles and Wings, many expected him to rest on his legacy. Instead, he dove into experimental territory, embracing the tools of a new decade — synthesizers, drum machines, tape loops — and proving that his creative spark hadn’t dimmed.
When “Coming Up” was released, some listeners were baffled. Others — especially younger musicians — were electrified. The song’s homemade, DIY energy felt perfectly in sync with the rise of post-punk and new wave, decades before “bedroom pop” became a genre. Even John Lennon, who had been distant from McCartney for years, admitted that hearing “Coming Up” reignited his respect for Paul. “That’s Paul at his best,” Lennon said in an interview shortly before his death. “He’s making good music again — adventurous.”
The music video became just as iconic as the song itself. McCartney played every member of a fictional band — from the guitarists and brass section to a mustachioed drummer — a clever visual metaphor for his one-man-band experiment. The performance, full of humor and warmth, captured what made Paul timeless: his ability to find joy in creation.
There’s also the live version — recorded with Wings in Glasgow in 1979 — which became the U.S. hit single. That version, faster and more urgent, features Linda McCartney’s harmonies lifting the chorus skyward. Together, their voices turn the song into something almost spiritual — a celebration of love, unity, and renewal. The energy of that performance shows that “Coming Up” was more than a studio experiment; it was a statement of life.
Today, “Coming Up” feels like a time capsule and a prophecy all at once. It captures McCartney at one of his most fearless moments — standing at the crossroads between eras, unafraid to sound strange, unafraid to have fun. In a career filled with masterpieces of melody and emotion, this one shines because of its spontaneity — its refusal to overthink joy.
Because that’s what “Coming Up” really is: joy in motion. A reminder that creativity doesn’t age, that reinvention is possible at any moment, and that sometimes, the best way forward is to start from scratch — to pick up your instruments, press “record,” and simply let the music come up.