Album Reviews

Neil Young and Crazy Horse is either one of your life's great musical pleasures, or you just can't take the slop. Me? Beginning with Everybody Knows This is Nowhere I have eaten it up. If you haven't liked the combo before, this sprawling, loose-fitting “concept” album isn't likely to pull the trigger for you. Critical reaction was decidedly mixed, but who cares what critics think? Myself included.

The tunes, built on simple, bluesy riffs, shuffle back and forth on pairs of chords, and therein lies either the charm or the bane of the exercise: behind the full-featured façade, including an elaborately delineated back-story, there's not much musical substance. That's the pleasure and comfort for those who find themselves attracted to Greendale, and that's the outrage for those who'd rather poke holes through it.

Young's story paints a twisted family portrait-generations of oddballs (accomplished oddballs as in Young's real family tree)-originating in Idaho, and now centered in the small, mythical town of Greendale, California. Sub-plots weave generational friction, an impending ecological disaster, the war in Vietnam's enduring scar, and the war on drugs into a complex colorful narrative tapestry that reflects Young's rambling, often contradictory socio-political world-view.

Seeing the live multi-media performance-brilliantly directed and choreographed by Russ Tamblyn-goes a long way towards clarifying the thrust of Young's world view, as he injects long narrative segueways between the tunes, but even without them, Young's concerns seep into your subconscious with repeated plays. More importantly, the world Young has envisioned and created with his simple, plodding blues riffs-a world that mirrors the problems that are so perplexing in the real one- seems to spring to life and grow more complex with each spin.

The onstage finale, wherein the assembled cast pleads “Save the planet for another day/ 'attention shoppers, buy with a conscience and save'/save the planet for another day/'save Alaska! Let the caribou stay'/don't care what the governments say/'they're all bought and paid for anyway'/save the planet for another day/'hey big oil, what do you say?'” loses only a bit of its impact reduced to the grooves of a phonograph record.

Young spins his folksy tales with laid-back good humor, occasionally lacerating himself with self-deprecating lines like “Seems like that guy singin' this song/been doin' it for a long time/is there anything he knows/that he ain't said?” from the warm-hearted opener “Falling From Above.”

The more you try to analyze Greendale, the weaker the case for loving it becomes, but the more you listen, the more you fall under its home-spun spell, aided by an absolutely spectacular analog recording, carefully miked and produced for warmth, spaciousness and transparency. Even the CD sounds pretty good (and the second edition containing a bonus DVD of the live-in-the-studio recording sessions is worth picking up), but this sumptuously packaged 3 LP vinyl edition (plus bonus green 45 and full sized glossy booklet) is a must-have for any Neil fan and for anyone interested in hearing what could be the best live (in the studio) recording of a rock band ever committed to analog tape. Only the warmth in Young's heart trumps the warmth and spaciousness of the recording. Highly recommended!

Bonus story: I might have already told this one in another review, but back in 1972 Young produced and directed a rambling, pretentious movie called “Journey Through the Past,” which had its debut at The Orson Welles Cinema in Cambridge, MA. I was on the air at WBCN-FM at that point and so was invited with most of the local “hipeoisie” to the much anticipated premier. Within a few minutes, it became obvious that the movie blew chunks, and as the crowd got restless I began cracking one-liners softly. As the group around me began laughing, I got louder and bolder until I had the audience “Mystery Theater 2000” style.

When it was over and the lights came up, a Warner Brothers promo man names Charlie McKenzie-the guy who heard the demo tape of the group Boston, and when WB passed, took it to MCA-turned around a few rows in front of me and yelled back “Very funny Fremer. Look who's sitting right behind you.” I turned around and there was Neil Young and David Crosby, and I don't know who else because I got up and left as quickly as possible! I don't regret what I did, even as a big Neil fan, but it might explain why to this day, despite the intervention of Neil's long time friend/photographer/archivist Joel Bernstein, I've been unable to secure an interview with Neil.