66 by Paul Weller
For a man turning 66, Paul Weller seems to have embraced both the age and the number with a certain irreverent charm. His 17th solo album 66, released just before his 66th birthday, feels more like an introspective birthday toast than a wild midlife crisis—which is probably a good thing considering we don’t need the Modfather experimenting with autotune or trap beats.
66 is a sonic patchwork quilt, woven together with nostalgic strands of past styles while continuing Weller’s late-career trend of genre-hopping. From folk-tinged ballads to sleek 70s-style disco, the album carries the kind of wistful English charm that defines Weller’s more recent solo work. It’s more a continuation of themes than a reinvention, but there’s a comfort in that—like slipping on a well-worn leather jacket for the umpteenth time.
The production on 66 is polished, leaning into Weller’s fascination with both retro sounds and forward-thinking flourishes. Songs like “Flying Fish” glide in on a wave of 70s disco, while “Jumble Queen” delivers a brassy, horn-filled rock number that wouldn’t feel out of place in a T. Rex tribute concert. The production feels slick but never overly indulgent, allowing the melodies to shine. Still, it’s hard not to feel like some tracks are lost in their own sonic landscapes, particularly when the mood swings from gentle acoustic folk (“I Woke Up”) to more experimental, electro-psychedelic vibes (“In Full Flight”).
Lyrically, 66 is introspective without being particularly groundbreaking. Weller touches on the inevitable passage of time—without explicitly wallowing in it. Tracks like “Burn Out” veer into eco-lament territory, giving the album a heavier thematic core. Meanwhile, “My Best Friend’s Coat” and “A Glimpse of You” add doses of romance and nostalgia, but never stray too far from Weller’s usual poetic musings. There’s no life-altering epiphany here—more a gentle nod to time’s unrelenting march, wrapped in beautiful, though occasionally meandering, melodies.
If you’re here for the highlights, “Flying Fish” is an upbeat, spacey delight, with enough electro-sheen to make you forget Weller’s age. The breezy folk opener, “Ship of Fools,” and the soulful ballad “Nothing” remind us that Weller can still craft a beautiful tune when he wants to. “Jumble Queen” is another standout, mostly because it’s so confidently Weller, mixing bombastic rock with his signature grit. But for every exciting moment, there’s a track that feels a bit too sleepy or reflective for its own good, such as “Sleepy Hollow”.
As with many Weller albums, 66 dips its toes into multiple genres, sometimes to its detriment. There’s a slight identity crisis here, where the album’s pacing can feel uneven—jumping from disco to pastoral ballads within minutes. While it’s never jarring enough to ruin the experience, it does feel a bit like flipping through a musical scrapbook rather than listening to a fully cohesive project.
Weller’s music has always struck a personal chord with those who grew up with him, and 66 continues that trend. For fans, there’s something reassuring about hearing him croon with a mix of weariness and hope. It’s like having a pint with an old friend, reminiscing about the good times but aware of the ticking clock. However, if you’re new to Weller, you might struggle to feel the full weight of what he’s doing here—it’s an album that rewards those who have followed his career closely.
If you’re a long-time Paul Weller fan, 66 will probably hit all the right notes. There’s a familiarity here that’s as comforting as it is limiting—like your favorite pub serving the same solid-but-unremarkable ale year after year. Newcomers might find themselves wondering what all the fuss is about, as the album leans heavily on references and musical styles that are, well, vintage. Still, there’s enough polish and charm here to make 66 worth a listen for anyone curious about the Modfather’s more recent sonic wanderings.
Paul Weller’s 66 is far from a reinvention, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a reflective, sonically rich album that will likely please his most dedicated fans while occasionally losing momentum for those looking for a bit more fire. It’s not his best work, but hey, turning 66 isn’t about setting the world on fire—it’s about keeping the flame burning, even if it flickers from time to time.
