Last Friday, I was in one of my happy places again: a record shop. The digital age is doing its best to extinguish record shops, as habits change and people choose to consume their music in different ways, and preferably for free (or as near to free as it makes no difference). I get it. Of course, I do. I collect stuff, like vinyl records and CDs because that’s what I have always done. Young folk are growing up in a different world and I’m not immune to it. I download some music but for the stuff I REALLY, REALLY like, I want a hard copy. And last Friday, I got my latest hard copy.

I have always loved anything Beatles related and as old age approaches I feel I need more Beatles than ever, in whatever form I can get it. I’ve read pretty well nothing but Beatles books this year so far and now I have a new album.

The Boys Of Dungeon Lane is Paul McCartney’s new album and I rose early to get my copy, the special edition with a lyrics card in. I’ve mentioned before my excitement of the new release and I only have to add that I have not been disappointed.

Macca is nearly 84 and his voice shows signs of wear and tear. Is that a surprise, or even a bad thing? For me, it made the new album even more affecting and endearing and while it is clearly not Hey Jude or Let It Be, it is a very fine record in its own right.

The main theme is nostalgia as Macca looks back at his early life in Liverpool, yet the music itself is very much of today. One thing our greatest songwriter has plainly not lost is his gift for a melody, his sharp powers of observation and his storytelling.

The song titles give the game away. Days We Left Behind, Lost Horizon, Home To Us and Ripples On A Pond. Here, the narrator, takes us deep into his world and almost into his confidence.

This not just a high class Macca album: it’s a high class album full stop. Any songwriter worth their salt would be proud to have written anything half as good as The Boys From Dungeon Lane.

Part of my love for Macca is that I want him to be around forever. I feel blessed to have been alive during his life, from Christmas 1964 when my mum bought me A Hard Day’s Night to last Friday when I picked up his new album.

Incredibly, the photo that heads this blog is entirely coincidental. I put my CD down while I put my reading glasses away and look what I put it down on.

Enjoy him while you can. There will never be another Beatles and there will never be another Macca. Just be grateful that they were ever here at all and that two of them – Ringo has a new album, too – are still making music.