When I'm Sixty-four.

Paul McCartney's music-publishing business occupies three stories in an elegant eighteenth-century building on Soho Square, in London. His office is on the third floor and is reached by a small elevator off the lobby or by a narrow staircase, whose walls are lined with framed photographs of McCartney and other sixties rock stars--including a black-and-white shot of a young Brian Jones taken by McCartney's first wife, Linda, who died in 1998. The office, which overlooks the square, is furnished with a rolltop desk, a vintage jukebox, two large de Koonings, and a carpet featuring stylized musical notes--a Sammy Cahn-like touch that is nevertheless pure McCartney. Though he conceived the idea for "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," the first art-concept rock LP, he has never made a secret of his Tin Pan Alley inclinations. Besides being the surviving member of the most successful pop-songwriting partnership of the twentieth century, he is a music impresario whose company, M.P.L. Communications, owns rights to more than three thousand songs and Broadway shows, including Buddy Holly's catalogue and the musicals "Annie," "Guys and Dolls," and "Grease"--all part of a show-business empire that, along with the royalty he earns on every Beatles record sold, has made him one of the richest men in England. While accountants on floors above and below him administer his musical properties, McCartney oversees various creative projects. When I visited him in May, these included a DVD compilation of his videos, including some Wings songs; a DVD of "Ecce Cor Meum," a lush choral work; and his latest pop album, "Memory Almost Full," a suite of deeply personal songs that reflect, often starkly, McCartney's awareness of aging and loss as he approaches his sixty-fifth birthday, on June 18th. (It is a milestone that he admits he finds difficult to contemplate. "The thought is somewhat horrifying," he told me. "It's like 'Well, no, this can't be me.' ")

McCartney was sitting on a small sofa at one end of his office, peering at a laptop computer on the coffee table in front of him. He was dressed in a long-sleeved gray T-shirt, rust-colored pants in Glen plaid, and leather-free black running shoes. Arrayed in chairs around him were his project manager, Paddy Spinks; a female assistant; and five young men--employees of a Web-design company that is helping to promote "Memory Almost Full," which will be released next week. Last year, McCartney decided not to renew his contract with E.M.I. Records, which had been his label since 1962, when the Beatles were signed by George Martin. McCartney's new album will be the debut release from Hear Music, a record label co-founded by Starbucks, and will be sold at the company's coffee shops as well as at record stores and on iTunes--a first, since for years Apple Corps., the multimedia company that the Beatles founded in 1968, had been battling Steve Jobs over the use of the name Apple.

McCartney, who said that he had grown "sick" of the long lead times and "boring" promotional practices of conventional labels, decided to try this new method of distributing his music as "a way to get as excited about releasing a record as we used to be in the old days, with the Beatles." He nevertheless seemed to find some aspects of the digital-download revolution difficult to adjust to. After looking at sample screen-saver images of himself lounging in a black armchair (the images will be available for download on his Web site), he and the Web team discussed how to promote "Nod Your Head," a rousing rock tune on "Memory Almost Full."

"Why not give the whole track as a free download and let people do their own videos?" Nick, one of the Web-team members, suggested. "They'll post them on YouTube."

McCartney glanced at Spinks, who sat just outside the circle. Nick, anticipating an objection, explained to McCartney that on the Internet you have to surrender a certain amount of control to fans, and see what happens. "That's the essence of viral marketing," he said.

"No, no," McCartney said, eager to show a willingness to go along with the new methods. "I'm O.K. with giving the whole track free." But he sounded a little uncertain. He looked again at Spinks.

"Let me think about it," Spinks said.