A raised stage is set up in Abbey Road's studio 2, and a couple of hundred people stand in front of it, more than a few of them familiar faces, these mostly consorting with one another in a cluster on the right-hand side of the room, among them Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Liv Tyler, Kylie Minogue, J. Right now, though, he has a concert to play. That's one of the many subjects McCartney will reflect upon in a series of conversations we have over these weeks-conversations that will sometimes turn out to be far more intense, and flat-out weirder, than you might expect.

At the other side of it all, more often than not we discover ourselves to be who we already were. There are ways in which it sometimes can, of course, but what is far more notable is that we are who we are, and that-no matter how much fame and acclaim and money and experience are added to the equation-we tend to change very little, both for better and for worse. A dominant but wrongheaded myth of the modern celebrity era is that great fame and success changes people. One of the first things McCartney will say to me when we meet is 'I'm still very competitive,' another is 'Do you know anyone who doesn't have insecurities?' and those are barely the beginning of it.

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