Neil Young

Neil Young
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
After The Goldrush
Harvest
Time Fades Away
On The Beach
Tonight's The Night
Zuma
American Stars n' Bars
Decade
Comes A Time
Rust Never Sleeps
Live Rust


Neil Young (Reprise '68) Rating: B
Neil Young's first solo album after the breakup of Buffalo Springfield is a tentative affair on which the vocals are mixed too far back (due to Neil's lack of confidence in himself as a singer) and the production is too soft (due to the prominence of Jack Nitzsche's string arrangements). This album has its moments, though, particularly "The Loner," "If I Could Have Her Tonight," "I've Been Waiting for You," and "What Did You Do to My Life?" "The Loner" and "I've Been Waiting for You" are the only songs that feature Neil's ragged guitar, while "If I Could Have Her Tonight" has pretty guitars alongside a yearning melody, and "What Did You Do to My Life?" has a naïve charm and makes excellent use of backing vocals. The album as a whole has a melancholic quality, and it lacks the immediacy of his later work, none of which would ever quite sound like this one again. "The Loner" (considered by many a sort of theme song for Neil, this was actually written about Stephen Stills, who later recorded it) is the only truly classic track on the album, though he later also included "The Old Laughing Lady" on his own handpicked retrospective, Decade. Personally, I find his almost inaudible vocals to be a real hindrance on this track (about another favorite Neil topic: death), though its jazzy ambiance and some haunting female vocals work in its favor (the almost 6-minute running time doesn't). Elsewhere, we have two forgettable instrumentals ("Emperor of Wyoming," "String Quartet From Whiskey Boot Hill"), an ecology-themed ballad ("Here We Are In The Years") that kind of comes and goes, albeit not in an unpleasant way, and "I've Loved Her So Long," which is all about its wistful countrified chorus (one of the backup singers is Merry Clayton, who would soon give the greatest guest vocal ever on The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter"). Last but certainly least is "Last Trip to Tulsa," an interminable 9-minute guitar/vocal only showcase that greatly contrasts with the over-elaborate orchestral arrangements and short running times elsewhere (aside from "The Old Laughing Lady"). It's not painfully bad or anything, but it was a far cry from Bob Dylan, who he was obviously attempting to emulate with this track, which at least is one of the few song here with any kind of edge to it. Despite some nice imagery, the album's simplistic, hippy-ish lyrics are also a problem, but, fortified by stellar backup support from a bar band who he hooked up with that he considered an "American Rolling Stones," things would soon get much better.

Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (Reprise ‘69) Rating: A
This classic second album was Neil Young’s first outing featuring his legendary backup band Crazy Horse (Danny Whitten; guitar, Billy Talbot; bass, John Molina; drums), who would appear sporadically throughout his long career, generally (and not coincidentally) on his finest albums. This great album was a big step up in class that featured raw, ragged playing, particularly on the extended showpieces “Down By The River” and “Cowgirl In The Sand,” two all-time guitar epics that feature Young’s emotive voice and hypnotic, repetitively grinding guitars that have all the subtlety of a chainsaw. “Cinnamon Girl” is another instant classic (and concert favorite) whose surreal, romantic lyrics are helped by fine harmony singing and memorable riffs, while “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” (one of Neil's most underrated songs) features unforgettable “sha la las” come chorus time and typically crude guitar thrusts. The rest of the album features slower but still fine country styled songs showcasing Young’s world-weary voice and sincere lyrics. Neil is aided by ex-girlfriend Robin Lane’s backing vocals on the slow, sad “Round And Round” (which drags a bit) and Bobby Notkoff’s mournful violin on the spare “Running Dry (Requiem For The Rockets),” while the loping country folk of “The Losing End (When You’re On)” provides a pessimistic sing along. These songs prove that, more than just one of the all-time great guitar albums (which this certainly is), Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere was a winner all the way around. That said, it is the two long songs that make this album matter so much. "Down By The River" is a dark, violent song ("down by the river, I shot my baby!"), with evocative verses and an explosive sing along chorus that showcases the group's underrated harmonies. I love the drum rolls in the chorus as well, but this song is all about its wild, distorted guitar. Neil uses repetition to build the intensity, and the band (who were not technically proficient musicians) play "by feel" rather than worrying about hitting all the right notes, as the album's live, hard rocking ambiance was as far away from his debut as you could get. Me, I'll take raw emotion over technical expertise any day, and the legions of garage bands who later emulated this hugely influential album would likely agree. In fact, you could argue that Neil earned his "Godfather Of Grunge" nickname (not coined until after Nirvana broke in the early '90s) right here, especially on "Cowgirl In The Sand," whose brooding guitar magic and length (10:30) exceeded even "Down By The River" (9:13) (hmm, "Cinnamon Girl" and "Cowgirl In The Sand"...any wonder why Neil's first marriage didn't last long?). More evocative lyrics and a catchy chorus add to the experience, and you can almost feel Neil's increasing confidence as a vocalist. I can totally picture Neil and his mates losing themselves during this song's incendiary instrumental breaks, which are awesome in their simple yet incredibly intense construction. Amazingly, legend has it that “Cinnamon Girl,” “Down By The River,” and “Cowgirl In The Sand” were written in a single day during which Neil was bedridden with a 103 degree fever (!), and Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere was the breakthrough album (top 30 U.S.) that established Neil as a first class composer and guitar hero.

After The Goldrush (Reprise ‘70) Rating: A
In a surprise move, Neil joined Crosby, Still, & Nash after Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere while simultaneously continuing his solo career. Hot on the heels of Crosby, Still, Nash, & Young's Deja Vu came After The Goldrush, which focused more on Neil's mellower side. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Crazy Horse, which had brought out Neil's aggression the last time out (particularly Danny Whitten), was dismissed due to Whitten's unreliable drug-related behavior, or perhaps it was simply circumstance, as the album was supposed to be the soundtrack to a film that was never released. Actually, the members of Crazy Horse do play on the album, albeit as session help at various junctures rather than as his backing band (his right hand man on the album was future solo artist and E. Street Band-er Nils Lofgren, then only a teenager), and the album does contain a couple of hard-hitting rockers in "Southern Man" and "When You Dance You Can Really Love." But by and large the album has a charmingly laid-back ambiance that (according to Young) "really captured the spirit of Topanga Canyon," his residence at the time. Neil's vocals may be an acquired taste to some (I probably should've mentioned that before), but his keening, high-pitched voice has rarely sounded better than on beautiful folk-tinged ballads such as "Tell Me Why" and "Don't Let It Bring You Down," while the gorgeously hypnotic title track is a dreamy piano ballad that is among Neil's most affecting. The eminently catchy and singable “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” was Neil's first top 40 hit in the U.S., and it was followed by the album's cranky centerpiece song (and one of Neil's signature songs, period). Lynyrd Skynyrd may not have appreciated it, but "Southern Man," Neil's musically and lyrically explosive diatribe against Southern bigots, was a classic that continued in the same vein as the repetitive but riveting epics of the previous album, led again by his technically flawed yet cathartic feedback-fueled guitar. Conversely, both sides (on the LP, anyway) close with playful piffles such as “Till The Morning Comes” and “Cripple Creek Ferry,” neither of which are substantial on their own but both of which make perfect sense when surrounded by weightier material such as his hopelessly sad cover version of Don Gibson's country classic “Oh, Lonesome Me.” A lot of people seem to dislike that one but I don't know why since it fits Neil to a tee, and if I have a problem with the album it's with songs such as "Birds" and "I Believe In You," both of which veer a little too close to laid-back L.A.-styled singer-songwriter territory (though I dig the ambiguity in the lyrics on the latter). The underrated "When You Dance You Can Really Love" may be a little more reserved than Crazy Horse at their most ragged, but it's still an intense effort that breaks up the sparse acoustic/piano-based songs that mostly surround it, as Neil seems to have really put a lot of thought into conceiving this album as a whole. As such, these songs integrate with one another seamlessly, and the end result is an endlessly listenable and enjoyable album that showcases all of Young’s major strengths. By these I mean his aching, high-pitched beauty of a voice, his simple melodies containing heartfelt, wistful lyrics focusing primarily on love, and (on the two songs) his raw guitar. With his profile having been raised considerably by his group association, this timeless classic quite rightfully established Neil Young as a superstar solo presence.

Harvest (Reprise ‘72) Rating: B+
Young’s most commercially successful album was harshly received by critics at the time of its release, and though I sometimes agree with Rolling Stone's assessment that Neil here became "just another pretty-singing solo superstar," I can also see why this is seen by many as a "seminal country rock album." Even more than the last album, this album's sound is a direct result of circumstances, as a back injury prevented Neil from exerting himself while using his electric guitar, which appears on only two tracks ("Alabama" and "Words (Between The Lines Of Age)"). Gone too is Crazy Horse, and Neil's new band the Stray Gators (Ben Keith; steel guitar, Kenny Buttrey; drums, Tim Drummond; bass, Jack Nitzsche; piano and slide guitar) is a totally different breed comprised of L.A. session pros, while Linda Rondstadt and James Taylor add backing support. Unsurprisingly, this is a laid-back and occasionally boring album, but Neil’s one-of-a-kind voice is in impeccable form (I'll take his imperfect crooning over technically superior but emotionally empty top 40 regulars any day), and even seemingly slight songs such as "Out On The Weekend" and the title track reel you in after repeat listens. Only "Are You Ready For The Country" (a slightly irritating sing along) and "There's A World" (a bombastic attempt that doesn't work at all) are serious misfires, and there are several notable tracks. Like "There's A World," "A Man Needs A Maid" features significant input from the London Symphony Orchestra, meaning that critics inevitably call it “pompous” or “overblown,” but this one works (despite lyrics that many see as sexist), particularly on the sparse piano/vocal parts, as Neil sounds particularly vulnerable and affecting on those sections. I've always been fond of "Old Man" as well, what with its charmingly low-key melody, while Neil throws in some social commentary on the sparse, unforgettable anti-drug tale “The Needle And The Damage Done,” which was obviously about Whitten. He also tosses some darts at “Alabama,” a rare rocker with strong vocal support from Crosby and Nash that was testily answered by Lynyrd Skynyrd on “Sweet Home Alabama” (one of rock n' roll's great answer songs), while "Words (Between The Lines Of Age)" is a dirge-like attempt at an epic that could use the energy supplied by Crazy Horse and is a far cry from previous such attempts. Of course, the song that went all the way to number 1 on both sides of the Atlantic (as did the album as a result) was “Heart Of Gold,” a catchy acoustic-harmonica led track that had Linda Rondstadt and James Taylor on backing vocals (as did "Old Man"). According to Neil in the liner notes to Decade, "this song put me in the middle of the road. Traveling there soon became a bore so I headed for the ditch. A rougher ride but I saw more interesting people there.” His reaction against major success seemed kind of extreme at the time, but the gloriously grimy triumvirate that soon followed (after the disastrous soundtrack album Journey Through The Past, which we'll kindly make believe doesn't exist) resulted in some of the most powerful music of Neil Young's great career.

Time Fades Away (Reprise '73) Rating: B+
This is where things get complicated. At this time, Neil again asked Danny Whitten to attend the sessions for what was supposed to be the follow up to Harvest, but when Whitten was still too drugged up to be of any use Neil had no choice but to send him on his way. Whitten spent the $50 Neil gave him as a departing gift to score the heroin that killed him that same day, leaving the guilt-ridden Young devastated. With his recent back problems and a divorce behind him (he rebounded quickly by snaring actress Corrie Snodgress, with whom he had a son) Neil was in a bad mood to begin with, and he made few fans when he went on tour and refused to play his hits to the packed arenas that he was now playing. This was Neil's attempt to rebel against the shallowness of superstardom and the parasite-like industry that supported it, and it worked to a tee, turning off many of his "fans" who only wanted to hear "Heart Of Gold." After a failed Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young reunion (Neil had zero tolerance for their petty ego clashes at that time), Neil found out that another friend, roadie Bruce Berry, had also died from a drug overdose. Inspired (if that's the right word) by the deaths of his two friends, Neil recorded Tonight's The Night with Lofgren, Molina, Talbot, and Keith (more about that album later), which his record company refused to release as they understandably wanted a more "bankable product" after the financial and critical fiasco that was Journey Through The Past. Well, what could Neil do but go back out on tour (with the Stray Gators), where a clearly frazzled Young's self-destructive and downright bizarre behavior preceded punk in its antagonistic "fuck you" attitude. Time Fades Away contains eight songs that were recorded live during that troubled tour, and I can only imagine the frowns on his record company executive's faces when they first heard it, for this album was even further from the safe confines of Harvest than Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere had been from Neil Young. The three pretty piano ballads ("Journey Through The Past," "Love In Mind," and "The Bridge"), all of which are short enough to almost be considered segues, aren't that big a departure, but the five rockers sure are. Darkly nihilistic lyrically and messily chaotic musically, the slow, plodding music has a savage intensity but few memorable melodies. In addition, Neil's ragged sounding voice (he'd recently undergone throat surgery) is often off-key; what can be a very pretty instrument often - and quite deliberately - sounds downright ugly. Songs such as "Yonder Stands The Sinner" and "LA" seem to be trying to grate on one's nerves, and the band's shambolic playing lacks the cohesive chemistry of Crazy Horse. So why does this album get a "very good" B+ rating, then? Well, for one thing, the three longer rockers are really good, particularly "Don't Be Denied," which ambitiously tells Neil's life story in four verses and is as passionate (and oddly catchy) as anything Neil had done to date (even if radio would never come within 100 miles of it). The title track is a fine piano rocker that revisits familiar themes (i.e. it's another junkie lament), while "Last Dance" is the album's attempted epic (8:30); though not quite classic, this loud, powerfully raw song succeeds primarily due to its desperate intensity. So does this album as a whole, as for all its flaws, both from a songwriting and a performance standpoint, this is an unflinchingly honest and fascinatingly from-the-gut depiction of where Neil Young was at that particular time. It's not particularly pretty, but its not supposed to be; like watching a car wreck this album will have your undivided attention, and though it'll likely make you flinch you'll keep paying attention to its flawed yet riveting realness. Trivia: You probably noticed the appearance of the song "Journey Through The Past," and you're probably wondering why it didn't appear on Journey Through The Past, right? Hell if I know, but email me some other examples, why don't you? I'll start: Led Zeppelin's "Houses Of The Holy" appears on Physical Graffiti rather than on Houses Of The Holy. Your turn. One final note: As of mid-2004, Time Fades Away still isn't available on cd, so I'd like to thank my friend Jack Feeny for providing me with a reviewable copy.

On The Beach (Reprise '74) Rating: A
Amazingly, this album wasn’t released on cd until 2004 (whatever his reasons, be they dismay at the cd medium or whatever, Neil should do right by his fans and make all of his albums readily available), which is a damn shame considering that it's undoubtedly one of his best albums. Filled with quotable sound bites (the most famous being “you’re all just pissing in the wind”) and consistently memorable music, this studio creation - recorded after a massive Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young stadium tour - the second of Neil’s commercially disastrous yet critically acclaimed “Doom Trilogy,” has a serious, stoned vibe that beautifully conveys Neil’s depressed state at the time. A diverse mix of rockers and ballads, several with a decidedly bluesy feel (it’s no coincidence that the word “blues” appears in the title of three songs), makes the music as fascinating as some of Neil’s finest lyrics, starting with “Walk On,” the album’s most musically upbeat song which features beautifully melodic riffs and lyrics that take a swipe at his critics while lamenting the loss of innocence that inevitably accompanies growing up (“sooner or later it all gets real”). "See The Sky About To Rain" is one of Neil’s loveliest ballads, with keyboard (as opposed to the usual piano) being the primary instrument, while mournful pedal steel guitar and the song’s title itself perfectly encapsulate this album’s worn out mood. Neil gets spooky on "Revolution Blues," an appropriately sinister and intense take on Charles Manson, who Neil had known personally (even suggesting that his record company sign Manson, an aspiring musical artist who Neil ultimately distanced himself from because he was “too intense”). What’s really interesting about this song, aside from its bluesy, rocking guitar-based groove, is the way Neil presents both sides, the victim and the predator, which makes for an unforgettably unsettling experience. "For The Turnstiles" has a charming campfire sing along-type vibe to it (helped along by the banjo playing of Rusty Kershaw, who plays a key role throughout the album), but as is often the case on this album the lyrics are filled with gravity (choice bit: “good times are coming but they sure are coming slow”), as Neil questions his career and the age old dilemma of art versus commerce. The album’s weakest song from a musical standpoint is undoubtedly "Vampire Blues," an overly repetitive and forgettable piece which compares Neil’s beloved industry (snicker, snicker) with shark-like oil barons. Much better are the three long songs that close this album and constitute possibly the single finest stretch on any Neil Young album (excluding Decade). The title track is loose and bluesy, with obviously autobiographical (“I need a crowd of people, but I can’t face them day to day”), image-filled lyrics that wonder about his place in the world (“the world is turning, I hope it don’t turn away”), while "Motion Pictures" is a sparse acoustic ballad addressing his second marriage (to Snodgress), which was on the rocks. “Ambulance Blues” is a true tour-de-force, with stream-of-consciousness lyrics (“it’s hard to know the meaning of this song”), at times alternately about Patti Hearst and Richard Nixon (“I never knew a man who could tell so many lies”), and laid-back musical accompaniment that’s led by Neil’s mournful harmonica and Kershaw’s fiddle. Really, I could listen to this wonderful song all day long, and it perfectly wraps up a decidedly imperfect yet deeply moving album. Sometimes Neil comes across as whiny (“On The Beach”), other times arrogant (“Ambulance Blues”), but he’s always worth listening to, and this incredibly rich album - both lyrically and musically - reveals previously hidden depths upon repeat listens. It’s not one of Neil’s more rocking albums, and neither is it mellow a la Harvest. It’s just uniquely its own thing, and though some lament how “depressing” the album is, some upbeat moments do offer the possibility of hope. After all, how bad can a world be that brings us such magical masterpieces as On The Beach, now finally available and at long last ready to takes its rightful place among rock n’ roll’s all-time classics.

Tonight’s The Night (Reprise ‘75) Rating: A
As previously mentioned in my Time Fades Away review, this album was recorded and shelved in '73 in what was a joint decision with his record company. After On The Beach, Neil set about recording an album of largely acoustic songs called Homegrown, but when he and several friends listened to that album side by side with this one it was all too apparent which one was stronger, so he decided to release this one instead. The liner notes state that "this album was made for Danny Whitten and Bruce Berry, who lived and died for rock n' roll," and in many ways this album is Neil's heartbroken response to their sad passing. Bashed out with his buddies (Billy Talbot, Ralph Molina, Ben Keith, and Nils Lofgren) through many drunken late night sessions in which they shared in each other's grief, this bleak, unflinchingly honest record is deliberately under produced, with sloppy playing (replete with bum notes) and cracked, off-key vocals commonplace. Yet somehow this works in the album's favor, as it has a real ambiance to it (one that's best appreciated late at night) that transcends individual songs, several of which are excellent, anyway. For example, there's the two differing versions of the title track that bookend the album (he would repeat this strategy on future albums) and which so baffled audiences when he played multiple versions of the then-unknown song on the tour that launched the "Doom Trilogy." The first one is spare, the second louder and more forceful, but both are powerful tributes to Berry. Elsewhere, the wonderfully weary "Tired Eyes" and a scorching performance of “Come On Baby Let’s Go Downtown” captured live at the Fillmore with Whitten on lead vocals (note: this song also appears on Crazy Horse’s criminally overlooked and quite excellent first album) are about scoring drugs and shooting up, with tragic consequences on the former: "well it wasn't supposed to go down that way." Although much of the album sounds like a drunken wake, in direct contrast to On The Beach's stoned vibe (though the albums have much in common as well, mostly a nice mix of rockers and ballads and feelings of anger, desperation, and disillusionment), other familiar themes also appear. Neil again laments the shallowness of fame on "World On A String" ("the world on a string doesn't mean a thing") and suffers self-doubt on "Borrowed Tune" ("I hope that it matters, I'm having my doubts"), but it's not all doom and gloom, as "Speakin' Out" and "New Mama" are paeans to parenthood. Perhaps the playing is too off-the-cuff and obviously banged-out-on-the-spot at times, and sometimes his influences are all too apparent ("Borrowed Tune" is based on The Rolling Stones' "Lady Jane," “Speakin Out” on Bob Dylan's “Pledging My Time”). These are minor complaints, however, as the album has a cathartic overall intensity and is often quite pretty. Interestingly, during this dark phase of his career Young renounced the hippy ideals he once trumpeted (and would later again embrace), and though some songs here probably could've been further enhanced were it not for the tossed off nature of this project, the album’s gripping despair nevertheless resonates quite deeply.

Zuma (Reprise ‘75) Rating: A-
After the trauma of Tonight’s The Night and the overall gloom of "The Doom Trilogy," it was time for Neil Young and the newly reformed Crazy Horse (with Frank Sampedro replacing Danny Whitten on rhythm guitar) to record a more sober and upbeat rock n’ roll album. The reemergence of Crazy Horse was pivotal to the rest of Young's career, and though the band had a different chemistry with Sampedro than Whitten (Lofgren had also left for a solo career) the philosophy remained the same, meaning that raw emotion takes precedence above all else. That said, this is Young's most accessible album since Harvest, with lyrics that deal primarily with a broken relationship (example: "Well, I wonder who's with her tonight? And I wonder who's holding her tight? But there's nothing I can say to make him go away"), presumably with Snodgress. Neil seems to be ok in his own skin and enjoying life more these days, though, as the dark cloud has lifted somewhat, though I wouldn't exactly call this a sunny album, either. In truth, I wouldn't call this a major Neil Young album, but it is a very enjoyable one, and is Neil's hardest rocking collection of tunes (and this does seem more like a collection of individual songs than the previous two, whose lasting images and overall sound one remembers more than individual songs) since Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. The mellower songs are among the best ones, though, as "Don't Cry No Tears" and "Lookin' For A Love" have excellent guitar melodies, catchy choruses, and even an upbeat outlook, while "Pardon My Heart" is a low-key acoustic gem and "Through My Sails" a pretty ballad featuring support from Crosby, Stills, & Nash. Elsewhere, "Barstool Blues," on which the newly single Neil hits the bar scene, "Stupid Girl," which sees Neil and his meanest and most misogynist, and "Drive Back," about (surprise, surprise) a broken relationship, are harder rocking but more generic songs. The music on these songs sounds ragged and spontaneous, as if cooked up on the spot in the studio, which isn't necessarily a bad thing considering the band’s combustible chemistry. I still wouldn't call these songs highlights, but some cutting guitar makes them well worth hearing, and the album also boasts two epic showstoppers in “Danger Bird” and especially “Cortez The Killer.” The former may be a bit leaden but is nevertheless uniquely powerful, with chunky guitar and cool simultaneous vocals (there go those underrated Crazy Horse harmonies again) on the chorus being this intense song's best attributes. “Cortez The Killer,” clearly Zuma’s centerpiece and easily one of Neil's greatest songs, slowly builds to a crescendo as Neil's soaring guitar cuts through the raw rhythms of one of rock's greatest backing bands. Elegant lyrics that intertwine history and his own romantic longing provide the icing on the cake, as only a few groups I can think of (Zep, Hendrix) can provide such a gloriously primordial power. Fine though it is on its own, "Through My Sails" is anti-climatic by comparison, and though most of these songs are good but not great and some even seem slightly underwritten, this often-overlooked transitional album saw Neil escape from the dark cloud that had been following him in recent years, perhaps a bit scarred by past experiences but eager and excited to begin his next project.

American Stars n' Bars (Reprise ‘77) Rating: B
Surprisingly, his next project was an album and tour in collaboration with old sparring partner Stephen Stills. The album (Long May You Run) was inessential (the best song, the title track, also appears on Decade), however, and Neil again grew restless on tour, famously ending it prematurely by classlessly sending Stills the following note: "Dear Stephen, Funny how some things that start spontaneously end that way. Eat a peach, Neil". Quickly moving on (as was his wont), Neil spontaneously recorded five ragged country & western songs with Crazy Horse and singers Linda Rondstadt and Nicolette Larson, and added four more songs from various different sessions. The result was the somewhat disappointing and decidedly disjointed American Stars n' Bars, which lacked the cohesiveness and overall intensity of previous works, though it does boast one all-time Neil classic in "Like A Hurricane." For one thing, Rondstadt and Larson's contributions are sometimes ill-advised if not downright intrusive, and I'd be surprised if filler-ish songs such as "Saddle Up The Palomino" and "Bite The Bullet" are among anyone's favorite Neil songs, though they at least have a harder-rocking edge and a sense of humor. However, that one session did produce some solid songs in "The Old Country Waltz," a breakup song that's boosted by Carole Mayedo's fiddle, "Hey Babe," another "she dumped me" song with a lighter, appealingly melodic overall mood, and "Hold Back The Tears," the best song on side one (which, flawed though it is, does have a certain ramshackle charm) with its catchy country chorus and ultimately optimistic lyrics ("hold back the tears and keep on trying, just around the next corner may be waiting your true love"). Alas, the boring "Star Of Bethlehem" falls flat despite typically fine singing support from Emmylou Harris, and Neil's reach greatly exceeds his grasp on "Will To Love," which metaphorically sees a salmon swimming upstream (though, as per usual it's really about his own sense of dissatisfaction and romantic longing) while Neil plays all the instruments himself. The end result is seriously strange and often quite pretty, but the fact that the murky music is no more lucid than the lyrics ultimately makes it an admirable failure (Neil himself states "sometimes I ramble on and on," and the song drags on for 7 overly long minutes) rather than an ambitious success. All is forgiven during "Like A Hurricane," however, one of Neil's greatest songs; though some have complained that this 8-minute studio version lacks the rawness that Neil and Crazy Horse bring to the song in concert, it's still an excellent guitar epic. Mixing together poetic lyrics whose hazy, romantic images are a perfect match for the dreamy music, Neil and Crazy Horse again lose themselves within several extended instrumental breaks during which the feedback flies and a hypnotic spell is put on the listener. As on Zuma, "Homegrown" (a loud "hoedown" a la "Bite The Bullet") provides an anti-climactic ending to an unfocused mishmash of an album, though it has enough going for it to make it worthwhile if you're a diehard Neil Young fan (keep in mind that "Like A Hurricane" also appears on Decade, though).

Decade (Reprise ‘78) Rating: A+
A triple album now pared down to two cds, this monumental retrospective builds a convincing case that Neil Young produced more great music from 1966-1977 than anyone else. Skimming all of his albums and hitting many of the high points, including most of his classic longer guitar epics, what also makes Decade invaluable are its worthwhile rarities. These include the excellent “Down To The Wire” (recorded for an unreleased Buffalo Springfield album called Stampede), the beautifully spare, charmingly naive “Sugar Mountain,” (cut on a home tape recorder, this concert favorite isn't a rarity at all but this is its first appearance on any Neil Young album), "Soldier" (a lesser track from his unavailable Journey Through The Past soundtrack), “Winterlong” (country tinged and singable), “Deep Forbidden Lake” (written for his unreleased Homegrown album), “Love Is A Rose” (later a hit for Linda Rondstadt), and “Campaigner,” a solo acoustic song that shows sympathy towards Richard Nixon as he tended to his ailing wife. Young is far less sympathetic towards Nixon on "Ohio," another song making its first appearance on any Neil Young solo album, though it had previously appeared on Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young's exploitative hits package So Far. Easily his greatest song with Crosby, Stills, & Nash, this hard-charging rocker has Neil's classic chunky riffs and angry lyrics written in response to the Kent State tragedy, with the icing on the cake being Crosby, Stills, & Nash's unforgettable backing vocals, particularly by Crosby, who was so moved by the moment that he openly wept at the song's conclusion. Anyway, in addition to the "new" songs, most of which are spare acoustic ditties that are welcome additions to a mighty canon, Neil handpicked his favorite songs from Buffalo Springfield (six songs), C,S,N, & Y ("Helpless" also appears), and The Stills-Young Band ("Long May You Run"), and the chronological song sequencing (chronological in when they were recorded, which isn't always the order in which they were released) shows Neil’s many career developments while effectively documenting that all areas of his diverse discography are part of a unified vision. Crazy Horse is also generously represented (“Cinnamon Girl,” “Down By The River,” “Cowgirl In The Sand,” “Like A Hurricane,” and “Cortez The Killer”), and the inclusion of great songs from lesser albums (such as "The Loner," “Like A Hurricane,” and "Long May You Run") helps make Decade indispensable. There are some questionable inclusions ("The Old Laughing Lady," "Star Of Bethlehem," five songs from Harvest) and omissions (nothing from Time Fades Away, scant representation for On The Beach, Tonight's The Night, and Zuma), but by and large Neil did a good job in selecting these songs. Truth is, Decade presents the best-case scenario for any retrospective in that it works as a great companion piece to, but not a substitute for, Neil Young’s original studio albums, plus if you had to chose one and only one Neil Young album this would have to be the one. As a final bonus, Decade also contains illuminating liner notes about each song scribbled by Young himself.

Comes A Time (Reprise ’78) Rating: B+
Somewhere along this time Neil embarked on a bar tour with a pickup band he dubbed The Ducks (members included former Moby Grape alumni Bob Moseley and Jeff Blackburn, though an album never actually emerged) before he surprised everyone by releasing this much-delayed album (apparently it took some time for Neil to be satisfied with the results). This laid-back country folk album is a modestly enjoyable singer-songwriter effort that sees Neil back "in the middle of the road." Fiddles, violins, pedal steel guitars, banjos, and the occasional piano or string section (this time generally employed with taste and finesse, as opposed to the bombast of his debut or Harvest) fleshes out the spare musical settings, which are almost always centered around an acoustic guitar, while Nicolette Larson provides a pretty female counterpoint on most tracks (this can almost be considered a duet album). And though I sometimes yearn for Neil to cut loose and add some excitement (though “Motorcycle Mama,” a goofy, grating rocker that sticks out on side two like a sore thumb, isn’t exactly what I had in mind), the consistently accomplished, lazily loping, and deceptively catchy melodies quietly sink in over time. Probably Neil's most country album to date (particularly twangy are the title track, "Human Highway," and "Field Of Opportunity"), these subtle songs are tuneful but lack excitement, though a strong batch of lyrics that address familiar themes (a loss of innocence, the passage of time, missed opportunities, and especially lost love) adds to the album's overall sense of accomplishment. Still, it would've been nice had Neil not played things so safe; even the two cuts ("Look Out For My Love," "Lotta Love") with Crazy Horse are comparatively low-key. Both are quite good, though, as are most of these songs (favorites: "Piece Of Mind" and "Four Strong Winds," the latter a rare cover song originally written by Ian Tyson) for all my catty complaints. Anyway, Larson had already had a solo hit with "Lotta Love" when this album was released, which certainly helped Comes A Time from a commercial standpoint, as did its stylistic similarity to Harvest (humorously noted by Neil on "Field Of Opportunity," on which he states "in the field of opportunity it’s plowin’ time again"), his previous best seller. As we all know, however, commercial success (this was easily his biggest seller since Harvest, though I suppose that's not saying much given his commercial decline due to his willfully "difficult" yet musically rewarding projects in recent years) and artistic merit aren't always in accordance, and for all its assets, the prime one still being Neil's achy breaky voice that expertly conveys his heartfelt emotions, this isn't one of his stronger '70s albums. It may be the Neil album for middle-aged housewives, as there's no denying that many of the songs are quite pretty and often moving (such as "Already One," on which Neil notes that he and Snodgress are forever linked due to their son), but I prefer Neil Young when he sweats a little bit.

Rust Never Sleeps (Reprise ‘79) Rating: A-
Its prescient liner notes describe Rust Never Sleeps as “a loose-knit concert album built around Young’s conviction that an artist’s reach must always exceed his grasp; that the alternative to creative growth was stagnation and irrelevancy.” Indeed, Young sheds his past (particularly Crosby, Stills, & Nash) on the acoustic “Thrasher,” saying “so I got bored and left them there, they were just dead weight to me, It’s better on the road without that load.” Unlike almost all of his peers, he also embraces punk, with a specific nod to the Sex Pistols (and Elvis Presley) on the two songs that bookend the album. “My My, Hey Hey (Out Of The Blue)” has a haunting quality that sets the tone for the album’s first half, a showcase for Young’s voice, acoustic guitar, harmonica, and his often-fascinating lyrics. Memorable lines such as “it’s better to burn out than fade away” (later to become infamous when it appeared in Kurt Cobain's suicide note) detail what drives his creative muse, while songs such as “Pocahontas” and “Sail Away” are dreamily romantic without being completely cornball. The former showcases Neil's storytelling skills (again integrating historical lyrics sympathetic to the plight of the Indians with a cameo from not only himself but Marlon Brando as well!) and contains side one's most memorable melody, while the latter is another pretty duet with Nicolette Larson that would've sounded right at home on Comes A Time. "Thrasher" is simple and somewhat plain musically, but like most of the songs on side one this one's strengths become more apparent over time, while the twangy “Ride My Llama” is the album's slightest song, though this ode to aliens, marijuana, and (one would presume) llamas is also modestly enjoyable. The album’s second half is something else altogether, as Neil teams with Crazy Horse for four joyously ragged rock n' roll performances. The tongue-in-cheek “Welfare Mothers” (“make better lovers”) and the frantically lurching “Sedan Delivery” tackle the punk challenge head on, and though neither are among his best compositions both get by due to the band's ferocious playing, while “Powderfinger” and “Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)” are among his best compositions, and alone ensure this album's importance. Rarely has Crazy Horse's ragged music better matched Young's cinematic lyrics than on “Powderfinger,” which really puts you in the narrator's shoes and in the line of fire, all while Crazy Horse supplies a gloriously melodic yet primitive racket (later swiped note-for-note by The Pooh Sticks). Finally, “Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)” is one of Young’s hardest rocking guitar epics, whose massive, ridiculously distorted riffs are matched to emotionally charged lyrics that echo the album's central theme, resulting in a towering edifice of raw power. In retrospect, this is the album that solidified Neil's status as the “Godfather Of Grunge,” and though perhaps it's not quite consistently strong enough to live up to its reputation as one of Neil's very best albums, Rust Never Sleeps nevertheless remains an impressively unified work that's obviously a key contribution to Neil Young's incredibly forward-thinking canon.

Live Rust (Reprise ’79) Rating: B+
Although he's one of my all-time favorites, I've had my fill of listening to Neil Young lately (this page has been in the works for almost a month now), so perhaps this isn't the best time for me to review Live Rust. Recorded during his outlandish Rust Never Sleeps tour (see the Rust Never Sleeps video for visual proof of how over the top it was at times) during which stage props and a forced storyline (hence some of the goofy asides that seem even sillier when taken out of context here) often overshadowed the music, Live Rust is something of a disappointment. Don't get me wrong, the performances by Neil and Crazy Horse are very solid, and the album features many of his best songs side by side. So what's not to like? Well, for one thing, I'd be hard pressed to name too many songs that are superior to the original studio versions, all of which I already own. Additionally, too many essential songs are missing ("Down By The River," "Cowgirl In The Sand," "Southern Man," "Heart Of Gold," and "Ohio," for starters) for this to work as an adequate "best of" collection, and there's too much overlap (four songs) with the recently released Rust Never Sleeps (which was actually recorded after this concert was captured). As such, I can't help but feel that Neil took the lazy way out rather than thoughtfully compile what could've been a killer live album. For example, some rarities and maybe a cover song or two would've been nice, and a radical song reworking here and there also would've given listeners something they hadn't already heard before. So, even though most of what is here is very good, particularly the electrified finale ("Powderfinger," "Cortez The Killer," "Cinnamon Girl," "Like A Hurricane," "Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)," "Tonight's The Night"), the end result reeks of a missed opportunity amid too much redundant material. P.S. What's up with the Jamaican accent on "Cortez The Killer"?

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