A holiday, a song title and a free night before a TV appearance were pretext enough for Paul McCartney to book a sudden show on Saturday night at Irving Plaza; its capacity, about 1,000, is an order of magnitude smaller than the arenas he usually headlines. The audience, he said joshingly, was “so close you can see my dental work.” On Sunday, Mr. McCartney was scheduled to perform on “Saturday Night Live’s” 40th-anniversary prime-time special. But Saturday was also Valentine’s Day, and Mr. McCartney announced, “Tonight it’s all about love.”
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In the club, Mr. McCartney and his band weren’t intent on being as polished as they might be in a studio or stadium. They let Abe Laboriel Jr.’s drum flourishes erupt; they plowed ahead when Mr. McCartney’s voice grew ragged in “Jet.” The songs, so familiar but still eagerly awaited, lived up to decades of memories; there was no question about everyone joining in on “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” or “Hey Jude.” The encore, the grand finale of “Abbey Road,” summed up much of Mr. McCartney’s songwriting in its quick-changing suite: ballad, rocker, anthem, benediction. “In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make,” he declared. It was, after all, Valentine’s Day.
