In a revelation that has sent shockwaves through the chattering classes and caused a minor stampede at the nearest guitar emporium, Sir Paul McCartney has confirmed that Normal People's very own Paul Mescal is, in fact, a six-string savant of the highest order. The admission came backstage at a recent shindig, where McCartney, presumably between sips of his preferred gin and tonics, declared that 'young Mescal can make a guitar weep like a weeping angel.' This is not a metaphor, dear reader. I have it on good authority that the instrument in question was a 1964 Epiphone Casino, and it was indeed leaking tears of pure, unadulterated rock and roll joy.
Now, before you dismiss this as mere showbiz fluff, consider the gravitas. McCartney does not bestow praise lightly. He has played with the best, from John to George to Ringo (and let's not forget the Frog Chorus, though we try). So when he says Mescal's fretwork is 'absolutely mindbending,' you can be sure it's not just PR puffery. The actor, known for his soulful eyes and a penchant for sad men, has apparently been hiding a talent that would make even Jimmy Page ask for lessons.
But what does this mean for the Great British Public? It means that somewhere in a dressing room, Oscar-winners are trading licks while the rest of us struggle with a basic C chord. It means that the line between brooding actor and guitar hero has just been crossed with a whisky-drenched slide. It means that I, for one, will be demanding that every future play Mescal appears in must include an extended guitar solo. Hamlet can wait. Give us the blues.
Of course, the cynic might ask: is this a desperate attempt to stay relevant in a world where talent is measured in Instagram followers? But no, the cynic is a fool. This is a genuine, raw piece of musical camaraderie. Two Pauls, separated by generations, united by a love of a good riff and a better chord change. It's enough to make you believe in something. Not humanity, perhaps. But definitely in the power of a well-turned guitar solo.
So let the headlines scream. Let the haters hate. Paul Mescal can play. And Paul McCartney thinks so too. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a burning desire to dig out my old acoustic and make it weep. Though I suspect it will more likely cough in embarrassment.
