It remains remarkable how some rock stars can no longer do any harm at anolder age. From civilian terror to unsavory rebels, they have become newsaints of modern culture, who go on and on. Leading the way is Mick Jagger(79), who is still playing his young self after half a century. But there isalso veteran Bob Dylan (81), who does not repeat himself, but has reinventedhimself in a masterful way.
Somewhere between the two extremes of nostalgic reuse and artistic innovationwe find Neil Young (77). The originally Canadian singer, now American,continues to release new and old albums. Most recently his 42nd studio album(and his fifteenth with the band Crazy Horse), World Records. Hot on theheels of a deluxe jubilee edition of his most famous LP, Harvest (1972), therecord that launched him to mass stardom.
The ‘Christmas’ combination – an at times excited new album with band and atranquil classic – is striking. Neil Young has always had two incarnations:the loner with guitar and jew’s harp, and the electric rock beast who indulgesin therapeutic indulgence on six strings. He has continued to swing betweenthese two extremes, with his integrity as the most important virtue. Young hasalways followed his own whims and intuition in an uncompromising, almostchildlike way, albeit with gradually diminishing returns.
on World Records he again surrenders to his muse, who is now in the serviceof the climate and Mother Earth. Young is a convinced eco-activist who, hesaid recently, no longer wants to tour halls that source food from factoryfarming. He also sings about the endangered planet on this album. The fun ofthe man and his old companions from Crazy Horse, once described as “a rustytractor,” is evident and will please die-hard Young fans.
Yet the album, the best of Young’s three consecutive with Crazy Horse since2019, sounds like yet another repetition of moves. With a very sweet ballad(‘Love Earth’) and the inevitable elongated rocker (‘Chevrolet’, which clocksin at around fifteen minutes). Lyrically there is again little to experienceon the album, the edifying lyrics are of the caliber the sky was blue, theair so clean/ the water crystal clear.
Pissing into the wind
Now, for years, Young has been known for his tendency to spontaneously releasewhatever his muse tells him, once held back by his assertive manager andproducer, who dared to tell him when he was “pissing into the wind.”California veteran Rick Rubin, known from the Beastie Boys, AC/DC andMetallica, signed for the production of this album. That is paying off,especially compared to records that Young produced himself. But it cannotdisguise the predictability of the material.
How bad is that? You don’t want to blame the 77-year-old’s energy andrelentless production as time is running out. In the final of his career,Young is busy setting up a mausoleum for his music.
Occupied in that monument Harvest , turned gray in countless teenage rooms,a place of honor. For Young, this album (with his only number one hit, theclichéd but irresistible ‘Heart Of Gold’) became a watershed. The record madehim an icon of the early 1970s. “Where Dylan was once a kind of God, at leasta higher thing, Neil Young is the comrade who puts a comforting hand on yourshoulder,” wrote Hague Post pop journalist Bert Janssen in 1975. Janssen, afan for some time, thought Harvest incidentally, Young’s “most shaky record”to date.
That wobblyness was the charm. The hypnotic rhythm of the slow songs, the thinsteel guitar, striking melodies and Young’s uncertain, high-pitched vocals -it all fit the zeitgeist like a glove. Just like the fact that the alwayseccentric Young had partly recorded the album himself in a barn on his farm inNorthern California. The story goes that he rowed his friend Graham Nash on aboat to his private lake for a stereo preview of the album, which blasted fromspeakers in his house (left) and shed (right). “More Barn!” Young must haveshouted to his crew.
Young found no comfort in himself. The 27-year-old superstar had an allergicreaction to the success. ‘Heart of Gold’, which quickly became supermarketmuzak, landed him „ in the middle of the road he later complained. “I gotbored of that quickly, so I drove into the ditch. A more difficult ride, but Isaw more interesting people.”
The commercial pressure from his record company and a series of personaldramas – a threatening breakup, friends dying from drink and drugs – didn’thelp either. A monster tour of sports halls to celebrate the success of_Harvest_ turned into bitter, alcohol-fueled quarrels.
Stripping rock
Young’s drive through the ditch quickly produced albums that were not instantsuccess, but each of which is now considered the pinnacle of his musicaloeuvre. A live album ( Time Fades Away ) that sounds like a nervous exercisein proto-punk; a nightly dirge about the Hollywood dope scene ( Tonight ‘sthe Night_hailed as his most penetrating work) and a hushed album that soundshalf like a whispered call to a helpline ( _On the Beach ). Fit with thelashing rock of Zuma (1975) Young found fun in life again.
Fifty years later sounds Harvest just as autumnal and hypnotic. Apart fromthe bombastic orchestration of a single song, which already hit many listenersin the wrong ear at the time. As a bonus to the anniversary box, threepreviously unreleased songs from the barn, a (known from bootlegs) BBCperformance by Young from 1971 and a home video about the creation of thealbum. The grainy images from the barn seem like an intimate, Proustian belchfrom a distant past.
Of the hip quintet sitting there on straw bales, only Young himself is stillalive. Pianist Jack Nitzsche, session drummer Kenny Buttrey, steel guitaristBen Keith and bassist Tim Drummond have all passed away and, in Young’s words,friends who “leave their mark in sound” have disappeared.
And what sound. It’s an unfair comparison, but still. World Records is atbest an energetic reminder that Young himself is very much alive, but quicklyfades away with the first, wistful harp notes of Harvest. Or that one gruffguitar solo in the slow trudging song ‘Words’. Young himself seems to realizethat too. His most recent Dutch concert, three hours in the Ziggo Dome (2019),was supported by a wide selection of his 1970s work. Not for nothing.