Paul McCartney Gives His Regards to Hollywood in a Fabulous Underplay at the Fonda: Concert Review

Addressing the audience at Hollywood's historic Fonda Theatre on Friday, Paul McCartney humorously highlighted the venue's seating arrangement. He first welcomed the VIPs in the balcony, then turned to the standing crowd on the main floor. "Hello, you people upstairs, in the posh seats," he began. "You poor people down here have gotta stand up." This playful nod to class distinctions echoed a famous moment from The Beatles' 1963 Royal Command Performance, where John Lennon told the crowd, "The people in the cheaper seats, clap your hands, and the rest of you, if you'd just rattle your jewelry." While that specific line was Lennon's, both musicians have often woven a wry awareness of social hierarchy into their stage banter over decades. The Fonda Theatre, a Hollywood landmark originally opened as a legitimate theatre in the 1920s, is renowned for hosting intimate performances by global stars, making this 1,200-capacity show an exceptionally rare opportunity.

Gaining entry was a matter of sheer luck for most. The majority of tickets were allocated via a randomized drawing on the AXS platform, where fans had pre-registered for the chance to purchase a $200 general admission spot. A pricier tier included exclusive merchandise. This system, while equitable in theory, left countless fans without tickets, underscoring that attendance was a privilege of chance, not merit. The fortunate attendees witnessed a powerful 102-minute performance that condensed the epic setlist from McCartney's recent arena tours into an incredibly personal space. The show featured soundcheck rarities like "Every Night" and "Flaming Pie," but no preview of material from his upcoming album, "The Boys of Dungeon Lane." He did, however, address his brand-new single, "Days We Left Behind," released just a day earlier, joking about the difficulty of performing it live. "It's in B, but I wrote it in C... I said, no, too much for me!" he explained, crediting the key change to producer Andrew Watt. This candid insight into his creative process is a hallmark of his recent shows. Music historian Dr. Evelyn Shaw observes, "McCartney's openness about the technical aspects of songwriting in a live setting is uncommon for an artist of his stature. It not only demystifies the craft but reinforces his identity as a perpetually curious and engaged musician."

McCartney's enduring charm and wit were evident throughout the night. He engaged with a fan holding a sign claiming attendance at 146 shows, calling it "a little obsessive, but we love it." During a delicate performance of "Blackbird," he briefly stopped after a lyrical mix-up, jokingly blaming the distraction from the superfan before restarting the song flawlessly. He mused on the cozy venue size, calling it "lovely for us to see the whites of your eyes," though he noted it wasn't as tiny as past underplay gigs like New York's 575-capacity Bowery Ballroom or the legendary desert roadhouse Pappy and Harriet's in Pioneertown. This reflection prompted a spontaneous and eerily accurate impression of the late Tony Bennett, complete with a story about Bennett's meticulous acoustic checks at different venues.

The performance was a robust showcase of McCartney's vocal energy at 83, powerfully delivering songs like the Lennon-penned "Help!"—a recent addition to his sets—and the funk-driven "1985." He was supported by his tight-knit, long-running band: keyboardist Paul "Wix" Wickens (whose birthday was celebrated on stage), guitarist Rusty Anderson, bassist Brian Ray, and drummer Abe Laboriel Jr. Their seamless chemistry shone during extended instrumental passages, like the "Foxy Lady"-infused outro on "Let Me Roll It" and the traded guitar solos during the climactic "The End." The production was deliberately scaled back, with no video screens or the famous pyro of "Live and Let Die"—which was omitted—though a simple green laser show remained. This stripped-down approach allowed emotionally complex songs like "Now and Then" and "My Valentine" to resonate with renewed intimacy, free from their usual large-scale visual spectacle.

With no major tour immediately on the horizon, these special shows function as part of McCartney's own version of a never-ending tour, a concept famously associated with Bob Dylan. They seem driven by a pure love of performance, keeping the artist and his band sharp between larger productions. As the final, soaring medley of "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End" filled the room, the overwhelming feeling was one of collective gratitude for witnessing a living legend in such an direct and personal setting. The expertly curated setlist, weaving together Beatles anthems, Wings hits, and solo gems, provided a comprehensive journey through a peerless career, granting the select audience a memory—and a bragging right—for a lifetime.