COSMICBEN'S RECORD REVIEWS

Putting the "ical ana" back in "musical analysis"

Neil Young

First, the wall of fame....

Date: 10/13/2000 3:27:56 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: beastiefloyd@hotmail.com (jesse blodgett)

Dear Mainstream Little Bitch,

Alright, first off- why the hell to you have a website dedicated to Neil Young, someone you don't really appreciate or even understand? And what makes you think you know so damn much when you only found out about him by listening to fucking Pearl Jam? You can ignorantly critique albums that where probably created decades before your time, and somehow think it serves a purpose. Well, frankly you're full of shit. Your shallow stereotypes and poorly written reviews are a waste of time and space. Seriously, get a fucking clue. It takes someone really close-minded to judge an artist by their "old" "scary" appearance rather than by the greatness of their work. Out of 21 albums, only the Greatist Hits (Decade) got a decent review, you poor thing.

Unrespectfully,

A TRUE FAN

Subj: Neil Young reviews
Date: 03/19/2001 6:16:11 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Boingo37

Please don't ever review another Neil Young album again.. Reviews are not personal reactions to albums, telling what you thought was boring or funny. Your reviews of his landmark albums actually made me sad that someone had the gaul to tell people not to buy these incredible pieces of music because that person didn't think they were up to par. You obviosly don't understand the music that you heard... You said yourself you couldn't understand the lyrics. So you don't deserve to publish your thoughts on a website. What are you, like twelve? Get a life. Do you think that your reviews are more accurate than the real critics who hailed many of these albums as classics? Please, for those of us who really know music and for those who are potential Neil fans, never write another review.

Subj: Neil Young Album Reviews
Date: 04/10/2002 9:31:44 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: John.Coult@guinnessudv.com

I came across your site by some unfortunate accident today. Not sure why you're bothering to put such meaningless and ungrounded reviews up on your website. Its a free country, but my guess is your time would be better spent elsewhere. Its OK to be critical, but just some of the words you use are a total cop out (obsolete, dumb, boring, etc.) - Do you really expect us to take you seriously? Debbie Gibson's music might be "hollow" or a "snoozer" as you put it, but Neil's music? Come on... As far as "hit" albums go, why don't you track where this year's Grammy winners (with the exception of U2) are in 3 years (let alone 30). Finally, as far as "On The Beach" goes, don't bother. You wouldn't understand and it might prompt another "dumb" or "boring" review from the likes of you...Later tater.

Neil Young

I've gotten a lot of flack for being too critical of Neil...his worst music is frustrating and sometimes even downright boring.  And George Starostin backs up his Neil-bashing so meticulously that sometimes I wonder if Neil's even worth worrying about.  But at his best, Neil makes the most affecting music I've ever heard...right up there with Brian Wilson.  He was my favorite in high school, and I still get a sad thrill whenever I listen to him now.  Tread cautiously, until you hit a song like "Winterlong" and then you'll probably become a diehard just like me.

The Albums:

After The Goldrush    Harvest   Time Fades Away     Zuma     Decade     Rust Never Sleeps     Freedom     Arc     Weld        Sleeps With Angels    

Neil Young (1969)--A very low-key debut, and supposedly a classic, but I really wouldn’t know.

* * * *  Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969, with Crazy Horse)--I'm pretty sure that Neil Young's will be the only music that consistently matters in my life.  I keep coming back to his ragged, piercing moan, his scraggly guitar, the melodies that entrance me even if they don't bounce and pop.  I break away for months, seek trendier and cheaper pastures, and I always come back to the man.  His second album is a fine example of why.  On "Down By The River" and "Cowgirl In The Sand", his guitar spars with Danny Whitten's rhythm scratching on top of a plodding, hypnotic groove for nine and ten minutes, respectively.  The playing isn't perfect but I've committed every note to my memory over the years.  When he reaches the floating, acid-drenched choruses, the imagery grabs my attention as his vocals jerk at my heartstrings the way nobody else's can.  The brief "Cinnamon Girl" is a turnaround, a furious, thumping riff-rocker that's just as memorable.  The other songs are slower and quite pretty, even if Young isn't yet as world-weary as he tries to come off.  Throughout, the music is visceral, underproduced, and, most importantly, honest through and through.  What posesses me to leave this music for anything else?

* * * * * After the Gold Rush (1970)--My favorite album ever.  I'm not arguing that it's better on an artistic level than Abbey Road, or that I even understand what Neil is talking about most of the time, but on some strange, indefinable level, this album speaks to me like no other slab of plastic ever has.  The sound is spare and somehow regal, and every single composition works: the opener, "Tell Me Why," is a transcendent acoustic piece sung in a piercingly wistful tone; the vocal-and-piano-only title track is heartbreakingly beautiful; "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" is plaintive and peaceful; "Southern Man" is a raging rocker with a pounding piano line and squealing guitar breaks; "Till The Morning Comes" is an elliptical snippet with an upbeat trumpet line; Don Gibson's "Oh, Lonesome Me" is sung in a convincingly depressing tone by Neil and fits in perfectly with the originals; "Don't Let It Bring You Down" is a haunting tale of life in the city; "Birds" is a gorgeous piano piece; "When You Dance You Can Really Love" swings and sways to an insistent electric backing; "I Believe In You" is indescribably lovely; and "Cripple Creek Ferry" is a lighthearted half-song that's simply amazing.  And they all work together in forming a sad, strangely optimistic mood, formed around subtle countrified rhythm, strummed acoustic guitars, and ethereal piano playing.  Shit, this will bring you down, not like Trent Reznor's mechanical, manufactured angst, but with simple sadness, for those times when you genuinely don't feel like being happy.  I'd call it honest, but there's always the chance that Neil sang it with his wry, characteristic half-smile; still, it feels honest, and the vocals are some of the most convincing I've ever heard.  This album has a mood that transcends even the great songs on it--I can't really say if it's for you, but it gets to me like nothing else.

* * * 1/2  Harvest (1972)--For me, Harvest centers around three songs.  On all three, Neil takes a generic musical form -- acoustic country-rock -- and imbues it with a precise honesty rarely heard elsewhere.  "Out On The Weekend" flirts with cliche, but Neil's plaintive vocal and heartbreaking melody spar perfectly with the lumbering rhythm section.  On "Heart Of Gold", the melody and Neil's insistent strumming dance around Ben Keith's sparkling steel guitar notes.  Far from being a sell-out (it was a number one hit), it's accessible without losing any meaning.  Finally, "Harvest" is wrenching and piano-driven, with Neil's piercing vocal getting sadder and sadder with each gorgeous verse.  Songs like these made me a fan when I heard them in high school, and they still thrill me.  I've never been too impressed with the rest of the album, outside of the beautiful, quirky "A Man Needs A Maid".  The songs are consistently pretty (especially the banjo-driven "Old Man") but less inspired, often muddy or egregiously overproduced.  Still, with three songs so central to the Neil mythos, Harvest stands as a huge musical statement pretending to be an innocuous country album.

Journey Through The Past (1972)--Released right after Harvest, this killed any commerical expectations that people had of him, and, well, I guess that's the way he likes it. Still, as a double-album that’s only available on vinyl, with one new song ("Soldier") that’s more readily available on Decade, I’m not spending my money on it.

* * * * Time Fades Away (1973)--Strange shee-yot, man. This is a live album, but if any other artist sounded this ragged and unlistenable in concert, they'd burn the tapes and pay off whoever was watching so they'd keep their fool mouths shut. But Neil Young went and released his tape, made money off of the deal (!), and of course, ended up with a fascinating document that brings you down as quickly as it draws you in. You might say that the mood--shaggy and rambling--is better than the songs themselves: only the "After the Goldrush"-worthy "Journey Through the Past" and the epic whiner "Don't Be Denied" really stand out as timeless. But they're really that good, and most of the others are at worst memorable, particularly the country rockin' title track, the bizarrely apocalyptic "L.A.," and the beautiful "Love in Mind." Even the few clunkers on the album ("Yonder Stands the Sinner," "Last Dance") are fascinating for their glimpse into the mind of a drug-addled genius. Definitely worth a listen or six, but don't run down to your local Best Buy; this is criminally out of print. Maybe people have something against painfully screechy voices?

On the Beach (1974)--This is supposed to be one of his best albums, and I’ve searched everywhere for it, with no luck. The only one of the "Missing Six" that I’ve never been able to find. Why isn’t it on CD???

* * * 1/2  Tonight’s the Night (1975)--This is Neil Young at his whiniest, for those of you keeping score at home.  When his squawk sidles in behind Danny Whitten's gruff croak on "Come On Baby, Let's Go Downtown", it barely sounds human.  Then I realize that it's Neil Fuckin' Young and nobody else sings like he does.  A lot of these songs are ragged and laid-back and sound generic until a pretty chorus comes along that only a major talent could have written.  And while few songs stand out as classics, the vocals are incredibly compelling, emanating a bleak hopefulness that I've never heard elsewhere.  "Tired Eyes" threatens self-parody with spoken-word verses, but the slow tempo, chord changes, and raw sincerity make it one of Young's best songs.  "Roll Another Number" also has a great chorus, and his faux-drunken singing is one of the funniest things I've ever heard.  On the other hand, a few songs are unmemorable, making for an uneven listen -- especially because "Downtown" is the only pure rocker, it's hard to keep from zoning out if I try to sit through the whole thing.  Still, if anybody can make a "look at me, I'm wasted" album, it takes a Neil to add affecting vocals and little moments of inspiration that wring meaning from intermittently interesting music.

* * * 1/2 Zuma (1975)--Enjoyable, if unmemorable. Young and Crazy Horse chug through a selection of rockers and ballads with predictable results, although there are some innovations: the two-verses-at-the-same-time thingee on the guitar epic "Danger Bird," the soft doo-wop-ish vocals on "Pardon My Heart," and the entire "Barstool Blues," where Young and his guitar seem to be in a drunken screeching contest. Also, "Don’t Cry No Tears" is a dumbed-down rocker that’s still one of my favorites on the album, and "Lookin’ For A Love" is a simple ballad where Young nevertheless manages to capture some universal thoughts on...yeah, love. But the pretty CSNY leftover "Through My Sails" is a bit insubstantial, and "Stupid Girl" and "Drive Back" are thoroughly unmemorable. Prepare to be amazed, though, by the seven-minute "Cortez the Killer," where Young solos at length and then dives into some naive but hopeful lyrics that tie the slaughter of the Incas with his present love life. Wow, I just listed every song! So, to summarize, then: the playing is delightfully ragged, and the whole thing is very likeable; it’s just that, well, every song sounds the same. To really summarize, then: some of Young's best guitar playing and some of his most generic songwriting make for an enjoyable album that probably won't end up in your "classics" pile. End of review.

American Stars 'n' Bars (1976)--I’ve seen this on vinyl (yep, it’s one of the six), but never bothered to buy it. Apparently, it’s been rendered obsolete by Decade, which only contains the blistering "Like a Hurricane;" what that says about the rest of the songs on the album is up to you.

* * * * * Decade (1977)--Since this is a greatest-hits collection, I’m going to discuss the necessity of owning it for both Young neophytes and veterans. For the uninitiated, this will make you an instant fan; almost every song is just...well, WOW. I can’t describe to you the experience of hearing 35 of Neil’s best songs; you just have to go out and do it yourself. Trust me, you won’t be sorry, and you’ll probably wonder how you ever considered yourself a classic rock fan without having heard songs like "Southern Man," "Like A Hurricane," and "Cortez the Killer." For that matter, you won’t know how you even lived without knowing slow, deep songs like "Harvest" and "Tired Eyes," among 33 others. For the vet, Decade has six unreleased songs, all of pretty substantial quality. My favorite is "Winterlong," which has less to say than the average Young song, but stills sounds amazing; it’s his try at a classic 3-minute pop song, and it works well. "Deep Forbidden Lake" is a tranquil break before "Like A Hurricane," "Down To The Wire" is a great lost Buffalo Springfield track, "Sugar Mountain" is cute but overlong, "Love Is A Rose" is a short country excursion, and "Campaigner" is an amazingly introspective acoustic outing where he actually sees the human side of Richard Nixon. Sorta shows that there’s more to Young than to lots of the narrow-minded flower children from way back when. Not that I would have minded being one, but you know. You NEED this collection, and despite what you might think, I don’t say that very lightly.

Comes a Time (1978)--Folkie-rific, supposedly excellent, and pathetically not in my collection. I am, of course, looking for it cheap.

* * * * Rust Never Sleeps (1979)--This probably falls somewhere between my take on it and Rolling Stone’s. I say that it’s great, but unmemorable and not usually on my playlist; they say that it basically defines rock and roll in every sense of the (three) word(s). Sure, most of it is nice: the funny acoustic song "Ride My Llama" and the chilling "Pocohontas" give the first side a wistful feel, and the electric frontier narrative "Powderfinger" is thoroughly entertaining. But what was he trying to prove with "Sedan Delivery," "Welfare Mothers," and "Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)"? That he could rock harder and duller than the punk bands of the moment? Well, I could care less, and because he’s capable of so much more, I can barely listen to these plodding rockers. If Young is proof that "rock and roll is here to stay," it’s because of his more innovative takes on the subject ("Cortez the Killer" and "Like a Hurricane"), not these generic snoozers. I’m sure that this was a return to form, but personally, I kinda liked where he was before.

Live Rust (1979)--A live album, released right after Rust Never Sleeps, but I really didn’t have to say any of that. I can't figure out why he needed to release this, but it's solid and enjoyable, making it a steal on a single CD. I'll write more when I listen to it again.

Hawks & Doves (1981)--Acoustic set, and apparently a letdown after his late 70's comeback. It's out of print, but I found a copy; however, I've only listened to a few songs. They're inoffensive, but nothing spectacular.

Re-ac-tor (1982)--Hard rockin' set, apparently a letdown from Hawks and Doves (!). Also out of print, and while I've seen it, I've never bothered to buy a copy.

Trans (1983)--Said to be a step up from the past few, this features Young using a vocoder to computerize his voice.

Everybody’s Rockin (1984)--An oldies set put out by Neil as a joke, it's supposedly horrible and less than a half-hour long; amazingly, stores have the gall to charge 18 bucks for it because it's an import. Fine by me, but that doesn't mean I have the gall to buy it.

Old Ways (1985)--Can even Neil Young make a good country album? I'd actually love to find out, but until I can find something other than the 24-karat, 25-dollar "Gold Disc," I guess it'll remain a mystery.

Landing on Water (1986)--Even the guy who wrote "The Complete Guide to the Music of Neil Young" couldn't find anything good to say about this synth-rock set. What's next, the All-Music Guide?

Life (1987)--He's back with Crazy Horse!! Woo-hoo!! It's an expensive import and Wilson and Alroy hate it!! Does it get any better than this?

This Note’s For You (1988)--I have this on vinyl, I've listened to a couple of songs, and for the most part, I was annoyed by the loud horns. Hey, maybe the blues just ain't my bag, baby. But I'll withold judgement (okay, *more* judgement) until I listen to the whole thing a few times.

* * 1/2 Freedom (1989)--Apparently Young’s most accomplished album of the 80’s, it’s also much, much more: it’s slow, hollow sounding, and pretty much boring. Which only proves my theory that the 80's completely sucked, no matter how good you were. Not that the songs aren't nice: the Mexican drama "Eldorado," the hopeful "Someday," and the lovely slow tunes "The Ways of Love" and "Wrecking Ball," among others, are pleasant enough to hear. And the countryish "Too Far Gone" is amusing. With the exception, though, of the full-fledged classic "Rockin’ in the Free World," Young’s adept lyricism can’t save the album from having an overall snoozerific feel. Young has made a career of sounding worn and ragged, and for he and co-producer Niko Bolas to suddenly wheel in the "production values" gives the album an incredibly sterile sound. Each song is strong enough on it’s own, but after an hour of them, you’ll be struggling to keep your eyes open.

Ragged Glory (1991)--Truly buttkicking, even if the songwriting isn't always up to par. I'll review it soon.

* * * * 1/2 Weld (1991)--I bought this in the middle of 11th grade, and listened to it intermittently, barely paying attention because there were a million other things on my mind...and then the school year abruptly ended...and that night I laid there in the darkness, my mind clear of everything, and listened to Weld...and all I could think was...WOW. Which only proves that you shouldn’t play good music unless you take the time to actually sit down and really listen to it. The artists put time into it, and so should you. Case in point: two full hours of THE MAN, live. Does it get any better than this? So listen to THE MAN and his BACKING BAND chug through 16 masterpieces, most of which he wrote himself, but with four guys up there playing mind-blowing rock-n-roll, does it really matter who gets the royalty checks? Somehow, this album plants you, as so many cheesy promo ads might say, right into the middle of a Crazy Horse concert, and you simply won’t want it to end. Young left the acoustic guitar at the ranch this time, and after listening to the ravaging "Like A Hurricane," the playful "Roll Another Number," his incredible transformation of Dylan’s "Blowin’ In The Wind," and every other song on here, you’ll be glad he did it.

1/2* Arc (1991)--Blech. I’ve listened to this, what, twice? And it was painful each time. It’s a 35-minute "sonic collage," which amounts to one giant, confusing, feedback-laden "piece of crap." Unless you’re a Young completist or a free-spending masochist, leave this one in the store.

Harvest Moon (1992)

* * * * Sleeps With Angels (1995)--Woulda been a phenomenal EP. Keep the beautiful tack-piano ditty "My Heart" and the trippy "Prime of Life." Leave in the album's best song, the moody country ballad "Driveby," along with the Harvest-style "Western Hero." Spare the churning, offbeat Cobain memorial "Sleeps with Angels" and trim 12 (!) minutes of soloing off of "Change Your Mind," turning it into a catchy pop song. And end it with the life-affirming "A Dream That Can Last." Shed a tear for "Piece of Crap," a catchy punk rocker that doesn't belong on the album. But weep not for "Blue Eden" (blech), "Safeway Cart," "Train of Love" (with the same melody as "Western Hero"--honestly, what's the point?), and "Trans Am." Why? Because they're bad! Take 'em out and you have a short album that's depressing, plaintive, and thoroughly melodic: the perfect soundtrack for a bad mood that you're not ready to leave just yet. Leave 'em in (as Neil did), and you have a promising but inconsistent album. Which is cool and all, but I like my idea better.

* * * *  Broken Arrow (1996)--This spot used to say "Yeah, like I'm wasting my money on this", a reference to the fact that nobody likes this album.  Well, I wasted money on it and it reminded me why I got into Neil in the first place.  Broken Arrow is full of simple, catchy songs, the same kind he would lazily undersell on 2000's Silver And Gold.  Here, though, he does something amazing with them.  The first three tracks are extended into a dreamy 25-minute guitar fest, coasting on Ralph Molina's rudimentary drum clatter and Neil's swirly soloing and ethereal vocals.  It's joyfully hypnotic and never gets dreary for a second.  The next few songs are of the same simple, catchy quality, and are short and haunting, with quiet vocals from the bottom of Neil's register.  Everything ends with a pointless blues cover, but by then it can't ruin the expereince of hearing Neil make mesmerizingly beautiful music just like he used to.

Silver And Gold (2000)

Are You Passionate? (2002)

Greendale (2003)

Prarie Wind (2005)

* * * *  Living With War (2006)--Like another musical hero of mine, Neil recorded his latest album over a long weekend without much thought to its lasting significance.  The result is nothing like Springsteen's.  Unlike Bruce's everything-for-everyone ragtime, Neil's music is sparse and powerful, with insistent drumming and only his scraggly guitar as melodic accompaniment. A 100-voice choir eerily doubles his piercing vocals without overpowering them. Unlike Bruce crooning someone else's vague complaints, Neil slams the Bush administration on all ten cuts.  His fly-by-night leftyism often misses, even embarassingly, but he sings with soul and cranky conviction instead of affected significance.  And hell, I'm glad someone pointed out how how sick we are for waving flags and "supporting" our children as they die violent deaths on foreign soil.   Neil's melodies, while overly familiar (one song consciously apes Dylan note-for-note), are his most hummable in years, and often beautiful.  You can debate the politics, but the music on Living With War is a renaissance for a hero I thought was washed up.

He's old, he's scary-looking, he can't sing, he hasn't had a hit record in 27 years, and he smells bad. Well, for cripes' sake, tell me how you really feel!

Yeah, old guys rule! Back to the reviews.