ONE HAND CLAPPING, a doco by DAVID LICHFIELD

The lives, music and world of the Beatles – together or solo – is starting to fill whole corners of large libraries, not just a shelf or two.

It is no exaggeration to say that every month, if not every fortnight, another book arrives, some better than others.

There have been a few biographies of Paul McCartney (and also Barry Miles' generous book, ghost written for his longtime friend), but few have been as assiduously researched – down to the last sandwich – as The McCartney Legacy Vol 1 which appeared in 2023.

In fine detail it just covered the few years before and after the break-up and into his solo career, an extremely volatile period on his life.

It is with genuine surprise – because we believed the topic would have exhausted its writers/researchers – that a subsequent volume is due shortly. It is something to look forward to because if you thought, after all those other books, you knew it all, then . . .

Being Paul McCartney wasn't always easy. After the Beatles broke up in 1970, McCartney – who'd announced their demise when releasing his solo album McCartney – retreated to his remote Scottish farm.

He was 28, depressed, emotionally adrift, tied up in litigation and unemployed.

He drank. Heavily.

Slowly, he rebuilt with the album Ram – dismissed by critics but hailed in retrospect – and road-tested a new band Wings. Their albums Wild Life and Red Rose Speedway were similarly derided.

And there was on-going sniping with John Lennon, conducted through lyrics and interviews.

Then, on the eve of departing for Lagos, Nigeria to record a new Wings album, two of his five-piece band quit.

For three years one of the 1960's great songwriters and artists was considered a spent force: yesterday's Yesterday man.

But the Lagos sessions delivered the acclaimed Band on the Run: McCartney vindicated and rejoicing in being popular Paul again.

With that album topping the British charts Wings returned to Abbey Road in August 1974 to be filmed live in the studio, running through his solo material, newer songs, some Beatle hits and a few old favourites.

The double album of that, One Hand Clapping, was released in June but now severely truncated footage appears in cinemas for the first time.

After a brief introduction by today's octogenarian embodiment of the Beatles, we're straight into performances with wife Linda (perfunctory harmonies and keyboards), loyal guitarist Denny Laine, new guitarist 21-year old Jimmy McCulloch and drummer Geoff Britton.

They launch into Jet and Soily, proving Wings a powerful rock band and reenforcing McCartney's love of being part of a team, in a band. They hit their straps on an expansive and raw Maybe I'm Amazed.

The footage blown up from video may be grainy but the enhanced sound (de-mixed and re-edited into Dolby surround-sound by Abbey Road boffins) is crisp. The ballads My Love and Bluebird confirm McCartney's melodic gifts, and – at the piano in white shirt and bowtie – he runs through some cabaret-style throwaways (including Suicide, a song he wanted to pitch to Frank Sinatra).

Old Liverpool pal Howie Casey contributes a sax part, the orchestra arrives for Live And Let Die.

With voice-overs (McCartney admitting he's sometimes “a hack” songwriter), studio banter and clowning (Britton showing his karate moves), we see the pleasure they took in the sessions.

In a coda, McCartney is filmed on acoustic guitar in a small garden at the back of the studio, playing old favourites by Eddie Cochran, Buddy Holly and an odd original Blackpool.

Previously in a voice-over he's said being Paul McCartney could be too much to live up to, but it has advantages. He's forced by reputation to prove himself.

At just over an hour One Hand Clapping is too short because, music aside, we see the McCartney of half a century ago as -- once again, and doubtless to his relief -- popular Paul.