Forever Young # 34: "A Clash of Worlds"

Song:  Mideast Vacation
Album:  Life
Released:  July, 1987

I ended up having to wait a few extra weeks to wrap up my blog focus on Neil Young’s 80s music, which started in June (five in all, including this one, which were otherwise presented every other week).  As with all my entries, the selected songs were done within the context of the album they were on.  Approaching things this way has given me a much broader perspective of both the times the tune was penned and what may have been going on in Young’s mind during that period (not to mention mine).  This last one, off of the ’87 album ‘Life’, was harder to track down than I thought it would be.  I’ve had the vinyl copy since release, but for over a decade now, no turntable to play it on.  After working the phone, I finally tracked a compact disc version in Boston, and longtime tried/true friend Mac picked it up and shipped it off.  Thanks Mac!

The first time I heard Mideast Vacation ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fp-x1n5xe9c ) , the opening cut off of ‘Life’, was live at Great Woods in the fall of 1986 with another close friend, Bob Bouvier (who this Forever Young series is dedicated to). The version on the album, which came out less than a year later, sounded exactly as I recall it from that magical late-summer afternoon, which leads me to believe that the song was recorded right around this time or not soon after.  And the photograph of Young on the album cover was just how I remember him too:  Foot thrusting forward in full jam, flannel shirt regalia, looking as if he could withstand a head-on category-5 hurricane (or better yet, create one).  * Side Note:  The album cover also has a more obscure image of a pair of hands holding prison bars with the number 5 visible on the back wall (symbolized by tally marks).  It’s been suggested that this was a statement to Geffen Records that his five contractually-obligated albums to date equated to being locked up and counting down the days.

I could relate to Mideast Vacation – all songs on side one of ‘Life’ for that matter – which collectively viewed human folly through the wary eyes of someone who understands cause and effect in a historical context (making the album title all that more poignant).  This connection that I made was partially due to being a history major myself.  But it was even more due to the fact that song, album and concert had all come on the heels of a summer travelling through Europe with yet another great old friend, Bob Mainguy.  It was an interesting summer to be travelling abroad as an American.  Not many US citizens were…at least across the Atlantic.  A Berlin discotheque full of US soldiers had been bombed that April.  Fingers were pointed at Libyan leader, Colonel Muammar Gaddafi, and the retaliatory air bombing ended up killing a number of people close to him, including his daughter.  Vengeance was in the air. All of this was not many years after the Iran Hostage Crisis.  Security was unlike it is today (a debatable good/bad thing), and since the US government could not guarantee safety for travelers overseas, they tended to dissuade us from doing so.  I wasn’t having it.  Besides, I was young and cocky, believing I did a pretty good job in those days of blending in with the crowd, which is not so hard to do when you’re a grub prancing around with long hair, a beard, and a backpack. 

Thinking back on all this it’s sad to digest that American tension with extremists in the Islamic world has been at high intensity for about 35 years now.  This week was the 13^th anniversary of 911.  The week also marked yet another intervention in Iraq and Syria, punctuated by President Obama’s announcement of renewed offensives against insurgents in those 2 countries.   How did it come to all this?  There’s no denying you have to go back to colonialism and the resentment that ensued.  It’s been recommended by my insightful and enlightened boss to read ‘Lawrence in Arabia’ by Scott Anderson, published last year, which apparently makes a convincing argument along these lines.  Yet any way you slice it, there seems to be no end in sight to all this madness.

Neil Young has been wrapped up in writing and singing about the Western vs. Middle East conflict from the release of ‘Life’ onward.  There was 89’s (Keep on) Rockin’ in the Free World (which was born through Young’s realization he could not tour safely in the Middle East).  Later you had chunks of 2012’s ‘Are You Passionate’ (see last week’s Forever Young entry), which was later followed by ‘Living With War’ in 2006.  Yes, there has been a considerable amount of Neil Young’s focus put into this modern-day scourge. 

So, back to 1986 and that glorious backpacking trip through Europe with Bob.  I’ve not talked much about this multi-month adventure in all these entries, but it was a transcendent experience for me.  I still recall something said by the millionaire owner I bartended for at the Pub Dennis in Milford Massachusetts just after I gave my 2-week notice immediately before my travels (to save up for the trip, I worked several jobs including this one, since my career path wasn’t quite covering my income needs  just yet).  He rarely said two words to me during my stint there (though in this man’s defense, his infrequent visits were a factor, considering he owned at least three other Pub Dennis locations in Rhode Island), but the day I left, he approached me and broached the subject that I was quitting to travel Europe.  He then looked me in the eye and stated “I’m wealthy because I worked hard and never stopped, but if I had to do it all over again, I would do what you are doing”. 

He was right.  I would realize this more and more over the next few months and beyond.

My travels in Europe were eye opening on many accounts (as they would be again 3 years later with Nancy).  Our explorations touched on 15 countries, ranging from above the Arctic Circle in the North to the edge of the Iron Curtain in the East to the western-most tip of Ireland, to the southern extent of the Iberian Peninsula, and all World Cup, Medieval, Alpine, Bavarian and Running of the Bulls experiences in between.  Of all this, it was in southern Spain that I felt closest to a clash of cultures.  There was a strong Middle East presence there (of which there is a long, 500 year history).  And the region had a distinct ‘Old World’ feel in those years, recovering slowly from the heavy-hand 40 year dictatorship of Generalissimo Francisco Franco (who by all account at this time was still dead!). 

All of this was fascinating to me.  But I knew instinctually that I had to keep a low profile, which was hard to pull off:  Tourism was practically non-existent in this region that year.  The most telling sign was Torremolinos.  It felt as if Bob and I had this tourist village on the Mediterranean all to ourselves, which was a bit eerie.  And the ancient city of Grenada was positively Muslim.  Sections we walked through could have easily been mistaken for Algiers. 

But there was only one time on the entire trip that I had a sense of genuine fear.  On the overnight train to the Mediterranean coast (Torremolinos), Bob and I were late boarding the train. Our many overnights on Eurail were godsend to that point; bunk booths being a cheap way to both sleep and get from one point to another.  This night was different.  We poked our heads into a handful of booths (4 beds in each), only to find they were all full.  Finally, we came to a booth with 2 empty beds.  Turned out there was a reason for this.  One of the two guys was a Libyan (the other was a Muslim from another country) and he had….some anger issues. 

We didn’t know it right off, but we soon found out, with early greetings escalating in bizarre negative fashion.  I’d like to think I’m a pretty open minded and adaptable person, but here, one misunderstanding lead to another, and before we knew it there was plenty of tension in the air.  And so, after using the bathrooms, we found our backpacks and sleeping bags tossed out into the walkway.  We wanted to confront the guy, but he was not someone you could reason with, and besides, how would we get any sleep in this circumstance?  We decided to pick up our stuff and head to the very back of the train.  Awaiting us, amazingly, was an empty caboose.   However, we remained vigilant the rest of the night (believe me, there was reason for this) and ended up getting our sleep the next morning on the sands of a Mediterranean beach (which was my introduction to this vast Sea). 

Mideast Vacation is much underrated because it’s one of Young’s most atmospheric songs.  I feel the weight of the world here, much due to my experiences in Southern Spain in the summer of ‘86.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 33: "Faith Focus"

Song:  Two Old Friends
Album:  Are You Passionate?
Released:  April, 2002

Faith:  I’ve yet to delve deeply into this core virtue on this blog.  But if things go according to plan with the Who (Townshend), Bob Dylan and the Beatles (Harrison) following on the heels of these Neil Young and Rolling Stones entries of the past 3 years, I’ll have much more opportunity to discuss it.  Faith is one of those intangible qualities that make us human.  It requires that we step out of a certain comfort zone… that practical ‘Doubting Thomas’ persona in all of us.  Where’s the proof?  Seeing is believing!  Faith requires us to come to the realization that we can’t rationalize everything.   We all connect with it at one time or another.  Those who persevere and let faith guide their lives are typically the blessed ones.

 For the time being, a focus on faith appeared to be on the shelf in these pages.  Neil Young has built a reputation upon many things, but religious-based faith is not one of them.  And yet as I’ve listened more intently to his music this past year I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s more there than I thought a year ago (which was also the case with the Stones believe it or not, particularly a handful of cuts off ’Exile on Main Street’).   Faith-centered songs are scattered about in Neil’s catalog, most prominently in his post Y2K music, including the songs on ‘Chrome Dreams II’ and ‘Prairie Wind’. 

 For many, Rock n’ Roll in general does not inspire thoughts as a faith-based music genre; there are a number of adjectives that would be used to define it before this one.  I believe part of what fueled this reputation goes back to the transition rock music took in the 70s, becoming mega-successful and in turn, significantly more money driven.  The rock-music industry tended to look more for hits in this circumstance, and spiritually intense music in this day and age is not likely to be attracting the fair-weather fan.  And so, faith takes a back seat, which I believe would have an effect on the musician’s priorities on what to write about. 

 Personally, I’ve had many a spiritual moments listening to Rock music, rivalling even the connections I’ve made along these lines at Sunday Mass.  Songs that come to mind include Every Grain of Sand (Dylan) Keep Me Turning (Townshend), Empty Glass (Townshend), Beware of Darkness (Harrison), Bargain (The Who), I Believe in You (Dylan), Long, Long, Long (Beatles), I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2); Love Train (the O’Jays) and Astral Weeks (Van Morrison).  I’ve been hit broad side by all kinds of music over the years, focused on any number of subject matter, and these songs are right up there with the best of them.

Add Neil Young’s Two Old Friends (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iY41vJrA7sU ) to the list.  For this song - one of Neil Young’s deepest forays into faith focused lyrics - and the album it is on (‘Are You Passionate’) the chameleon-like Young ended up turning to a soul sound with Booker T and the MGs.  ‘Are You Passionate?’ was recorded before and after 911. You can feel the weight of 911 in Two Old Friends.  It’s heavy.  Far more so than Let’s Roll off the same album, which got some radio play upon release (the song’s title is a reference to what Todd Beamer said on United Flight 93 just before he and other passengers stormed the cockpit in an apparently successful effort to overtake the hijackers). 

The song title, Two Old Friends, refers to a discussion between a preacher and God.  The preacher is lamenting hatred in the world and asking God when there will be peace (personified in great live musical events).  God states that those times have already come to pass, noting the Band’s ‘Rock of Ages’ ‘72 tour specifically.  I believe the title is telling, as it may be revealing the ‘preacher’ as Neil himself, given God’s musical tastes in the song (which I agree with by the way).  Regardless, by the ending, the preacher is granted some peace of mind “in the way things are and the way things change”.

Recording with Booker T and the MGs must have been a dream-come-true for Neil Young.  The Stax Record icons first connected with Young when they were the house band for Bob Dylan’s 30^th Anniversary show in 1992.  They backed Neil up as he performed the Dylan classics All Along the Watchtower and Just Like Tom Thumbs Blues.  Young’s performance was ok that evening (far more memorable was Ronnie Wood performing Seven Days with Cropper and crew).  I think both Young and the crowd were thrown off some by the Sinead O’Connor tirade which had immediately preceded his coming on stage (see GMVW # 76, June 2007, which explored this episode). 

 Neil Young made up for this by touring with Booker T and the MGs the following year.  Nancy and I got see this tour at Great Woods in Mansfield, MA.  What we heard was a solid rock/soul sound that had me hardly (if at all) missing Crazy Horse.   Yesterday, I tracked down the set list that evening.  Below is that list, along with what may have crossed my mind during the show:

Mr. Soul     > I clearly recall this opening number and thinking: “OK, this is going to be good”

The Loner    > Wow!  Two amazing songs to start off.  The band interaction (binoculars) is right on
Southern Man    > Make that 3.  Never heard this live before….is it rarely played live?
Helpless    > recalling Neil’s performance on The Last Waltz (disappointing).  Ready to move on
Like a Hurricane    > Can this match Crazy Horse.  ….. yes!
Motorcycle Mama     > see Forever Young # 16 in terms of what I was likely thinking
Separate Ways    > this is a rarity to be seeing live (it was)
Love to Burn   > yes, I do.   Slow, long burner that just keeps going and getting better
Only Love Can Break Your Heart   > solo, acoustic (I believe)…. and intense!
Heart of Gold   > Looking around at the crowd…..communal
Harvest Moon   > Mom and Dad
Unknown Legend    > what imagery!  Feel like I was there
The Needle and the Damage Done > trying to relate to something beyond me.  Still hitting me like a brick
Powderfinger   > Nancy’s loving this.  How’s Booker enjoying this? Cropper?  They look pumped.
Live to Ride  > Never heard this before.  What’s next?
Rockin’ in the Free World    > my goodness, Bush (senior) era revisited 1 year later

encore

(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay   > this version had a lot to do with why I love this song
All Along the Watchtower    > another cover?  Ok, this works.  Better than the Dylan 30^th version

Eight years later, Neil Young reconnected with Booker T and the MGs and went all Van Morrison on us with ‘Are You Passionate?’  Make no mistake about it, this is a cover to cover soul album (with a couple of hiccups):  Nothing else of Young’s sounds like it.   Although I’m not particularly drawn to such music, if I were to write a blog consisting of several hundred Neil Young reviews, I would likely include a few other songs from ‘Are You Passionate’, including the first two tracks.  Your My Girl is a simple song about letting go of a growing daughter (a nice father/daughter wedding dance song), and Mr. Disappointment is about trying to overcome bad habits (not a nice father/daughter wedding dance song).  There is no greater contrast of Neil Young’s vocal range than these two songs.  Your My Girl reaches a bit too far into the soprano range and Mr. Disappointment gets its point across down in the baritone. 

However it came down to that faith focus for me as I zeroed in this week on what to write about.  It may have been 911 that brought this faith out, or it may have been just a natural progression for Neil Young.  But any way you slice it, this song works.  And as with all my discoveries of the Young legacy this past year, I’m all ears.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 32: "Hidden Treasure"

Song:  Truth Be Known
Album:  Mirror Ball
Released:  June, 1995

How is it that some songs have a way of hiding out for a while?  Early reviews don’t catch them, as the critical focus ends up being on other tunes off the same album be they a single, a hit, a controversy or a new twist.  It’s not until sometime later when more insight sinks in, that the song gets it’s just rewards. 

One explanation is too much of a good thing.  Musician can at times be victims of their own success.  Put together a string of great albums, and expectations begin to go off the charts.  Often, the tunes that slip under the radar are on albums that come at the tail end of a series of classics.  Good examples are songs off Bob Dylan’s ‘John Wesley Harding’ (i.e. I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine, Dear Landlord) and ‘New Morning’ (The Man in Me), the Who’s ‘Who by Numbers’ (Slip Kid, Dreaming From the Waist), REM’s ‘Up’ (Lotus, Daysleeper) and the Stones ‘Exile on Main Street’ (pick’em) .  You could even make a case for the Beatles ‘Abbey Road’ (Oh! Darling, Because).  In all these examples, the album was overwhelmed by its predecessors at the time of release, but eventually climbed out from under their shadow, and in some cases rose above them. 

Another reason may be that certain songs and albums are a perfect barometer of the times, and it’s not until a historical perspective for those times kicks in that we can get a similar perspective for the music.  I say this as I think of these classic references above (for example, ‘Abbey Road does a pretty darn good job representing both the end of the Beatles and the end of the 60s), but what really intrigues me to this end is the Neil Young discography, particularly his mid-90s albums ‘Sleeps with Angels' (1994) and it’s follow up ‘Mirror Ball’ (1995).  In these albums I see a perfect convergence of factors that would allow a great song to come out of the gate with a low profile. 

‘Sleeps With Angels’ and ‘Mirror Ball’ came on the heels of 3 critically acclaimed Neil Young albums:  ‘Freedom’ (1989), ‘Ragged Glory’ (1990) and ‘Harvest Moon’ (1992).  The natural reaction for critics and many fans in these circumstances is to, at least temporarily, move on.  Most of us have an inclination to test new waters; see what else is out there.  It’s not as common to stay the course.  So when there’s a levelling off, or even a slight dip in quality, it’s not all that surprising that we can tend to miss something; some hidden treasure.

With all this in mind, Baby Boomers were finally facing the reality of their own mortality in the 90s and so searching for a legacy of sorts.  There was very little interest in understanding and observing ‘Generation X’.  But Neil Young was reaching out, connecting with both members of Nirvana and Pearl Jam, as well as other ‘X’ bands.  It was a fascinating union.  Young (and a few other 60s musicians, including Pete Townshend, who was connecting with Brit equivalents like Paul Weller) represented precisely what these bands were looking for.  Grunge brought something new and ultimately lasting to the table.  Where Punk lashed out at excess, phonies, and the abandonment of idealism, Grunge went further and tried to explain why.  Young was seen by this new rock and roll crowd as a kindred soul, and in turn an elder statesman.  He was real to them.  Neil Young in turn found companionship in a youth movement.  Who could ask for more?

Anyhow, several seminal songs of Young’s were victimized by this convergence of factors.  First there was Change Your Mind off Neil Young’s 1994’s ‘Sleeps With Angels’, which I wrote about 6 years ago (see GMVW # 32, Oct, 2008).  At the time of release it barely caught a blip on the radar, but it has gained traction over the ensuing decades, and I predict that it will one day be one of the cornerstones of Young’s legacy.   The second victim from my point of view is Truth Be Known off ‘Mirror Ball’, this week’s Forever Young entry.  For anyone who loves ‘Maximum Rhythm and Blues’ this song is for you.  Oh, to see it live.

Truth Be Known ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7b6kmrOx08 ) is an indictment of leaving your roots behind; forgetting what got you to where you are.  Here are the opening lyrics:

Saw your friend working in this hotel
Says he used to know you when
And your dreams lucky as they seemed
They all turned their back on him
Truth be known

Wow!  There’s no beating around the bush here, and that’s what the Grunge movement was all about.  Pearl Jam does a masterful job backing Neil Young in this song.  I love Jeff Ament’s bass playing: Solid, steady, and melodic.  Neil Young’s vocals are very impressive.  The high-pitched backing vocals are equally so.  Altogether, there is a steady driving force that propels the song forward.  If this were a Crazy Horse song, it would have probably been twice as long.  But Pearl Jam works with Young to drive the concept home within normal timespan for a rock song (4:39). 

Neil Young is very careful with his lyrics in Truth Be Known.  One line where this stands out is in that opening salvo; “And your dreams lucky as they seemed”.  It’s the use of the words ‘lucky’ and ‘seemed’ that catches me here.  Whoever Young is singing about (this could even be himself) believes there was a bit of luck involved in their success, which is a noble and humble trait. Use of the word ‘seemed’ however, throws a crowbar into the picture.  It implies that there really was not success, because in the process, there was abandonment, and you simply can’t have one without the other. 

The middle lyrics appear to be about the victimized friend and the mistakes he/she has made; pretty straightforward, but nonetheless masterful that Young and crew would scope this angle out.  The closing lyrics go back to the self-centered fool who has moved on:

When the fire that once was your friend
Burns your fingers to the bone
And your song meets a sudden end
Echoing through right and wrong
Truth be known

The insinuation here is that creativity withers on the vine when a wrong has occurred.  Not that I’m an expert with Grunge, but I have a sense that this type of emphasis is at the heart of that genera, which puts it solidly in the camp of masterful, innovative rock and roll.  This is because at its core, the rock music I have had a life-long fascination with is always searching for truth in one form or another.  It may deviate.  It may self-incriminate.  It may even implode on itself on occasion. 

But if it continues searching, I’m all ears.

Pete

Forever Young # 31: "Closure"

Song:  Wrecking Ball
Album:  Freedom
Released:  October, 1989

Changes were afoot within my circles in the late 80s.  Many of us were getting married, buying homes, establishing careers and soon enough having children.  Going off to school earlier in the decade was a considerable primer for dealing with change in our lives. These new experiences intensified and cemented the deal. 

The late 80s were interesting times in terms of connecting with our youth.  Some of my peers dropped out.  Others moved on.  But for most of us, these were not options.  Severing ties with the friendships and experiences of our younger selves would have been akin to razing our childhood homes.  Still it could be difficult on occasion to reconnect with the past.  I vividly recall going back to my hometown of Franklin one evening around this period and walking into the Uptown Pub.  This watering hole was never a favorite haunt, but on that night it felt worse; strange even.  I felt out of place and out of sorts.  It was a feeling of trying to keep something going which was no longer there.  Around then I realized that with change, you have to leave a part of you behind.  There’s no avoiding it. 

And yet…..

And yet, there is always that quest lingering within.  That search for recapturing or revisiting something that was.  Or maybe it’s the notion of closure.   When you’re older and presumably wiser, you look at the world from a broader context:  “If I only knew then what I know now”.  And so, when nostalgia kicks in, which inevitably happens from time to time, there is an urge to go back.  Back to those simpler days when the highs seemed easier to achieve, being as there were not so many layers to filter through to get there.

I had planned on tackling Wrecking Ball ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5HQjUzDcrk ) near the beginning of this Forever Young blog series.  It is such a magnificent song, and I’ve loved it ever since first listening to ‘Freedom’ upon release.  But back in January, I wasn’t quite ready to revisit Wrecking Ball.  Those original emotions had not stirred back up.  And so, I sat on it and gave it another go this past week.  This time, I was rewarded. 

There was a wrecking ball in downtown Franklin many years ago.  It must have been 1975 or so.  I watched it tear down a large section of a 3-level brick building across from Franklin News on Main Street.  Prior it was an old, mostly vacant complex for a number of years.  I do recall a dance studio on the top level that was easily accessible via a large fire escape.  For kids who loved to explore, like my friends and I, there was access to the inside from several alleyway doors and crawl spaces.  Machinery and tools were sprawled about on the 1^st level; a legacy of a bygone era of blue-collar work in the heart of town.   This was one of many places we investigated.  Dean Junior College, just up the road, was another.  There were all sorts of tucked away spaces there; nooks and crannies that only ourselves - and possibly a custodian or two - would know of.  There were also a variety of barns, industrial buildings and other structures we would check out.  The rooftops were not out of bounds either. We never stole anything.  Curiosity was the driving force; a desire to take the path less trodden.

Watching the old building come down that summer had an effect on me.   I realized at the time that new (a bank) would be replacing old.  Was this good, or not so good?  I struggled a bit with the thought.  I recall a sensation that a part of me was being torn down with it and that I’d never be able to go back to that place, aside from memory.  It wasn’t necessarily the structure either.  It was more the whole ball of wax, including the adventure and comradery….. that Stand By Me sort of feeling (the movie and the song).  Yes, that was what came crashing down in a heap of bricks and mortar in the summer of ’75.

Change can be tough, and that wrecking ball may have been the first inkling of it for me.  With each change in your life, though, the next one gets a little easier to swallow. And Franklin was a place where we saw a ton of it.  Development was rampant in Eastern Massachusetts in the 80s.  Franklin was in the crosshairs.  A final added chunk of rte. 495 in the late 70s gave equidistant access in all four directions: Cape Cod to the South, Providence to the West, Worcester to the North, and Boston to the East.  The rural feel disappeared as a variety of our backwoods hangouts suddenly became a thing of the past. And with residential development came the chain stores, leaving Mom and Pop places like Franklin Furniture, Jimmy’s Penny Candy, Kearney’s, Puritan Drugs, Brunelli’s, and Newberry’s in the dust.  In the process, Franklin lost much of its charm, luster, and character.  A large number of my concrete memories had become abstract ones.  The town was becoming just another chunk of flotsam in an endless sea of suburban sprawl.

As those life-changing events of career and family played out for me into the 90s, I know I reflected on all of this.  And it was not simply the development of that small town I grew up in.  It was all the loss that went with it.  Sure I had gained so much by focusing on what I needed to in order to make life work into adulthood, and I knew this to be good.   But I also realized that I had lost something in the process; a bit of innocence and adventure and discovery and exploration and opportunity and youthful exuberance.  The road ahead would be influential and groundbreaking in its own right, but now it would include the occasional glance into the rearview mirror, hoping to see something that would entice me to make a U-turn. 

Several of the songs that grabbed my attention at that juncture in my life were about this sense of loss.  There was Iris Dement’s transcendent song, Our Town (see Gem Music Video of the Week # 4, January, 2008).  There was Rick Danko’s rarity What a Town.  There was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers American Girl.  And of course there was Neil Young’s Wrecking Ball.  Where the other three songs are explicitly about a sense of loss from the perspective of youth and home, Wrecking Ball covers more ground.  Love and closure factor into the equation in all of these songs, but Young links past to present here, each verse describing some unique relationship, both long-lasting and fleeting.  In all these scenarios, the looming wrecking ball is the metaphor for closure to something that was, but can never be again.  There’s a link between them, but it’s left for the listener to interpret.

When I take a ride to Franklin these days, visiting family and friends still dwelling there, so much comes flooding back. Now, however, it’s more complex.  There are the old memories of my youth, yes.  But there are also recollections from that time of significant change in my life, when I was coming to the realization that……shit happens.  The wrecking ball is inevitable, and how you deal with it becomes the ultimate definition of one’s character.  But we need to save a space and time to connect with what was there beforehand, if only to get some closure.  It may seem counterintuitive, but this helps to define our character too.   Wrecking Ball appears to back this notion up.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 30: "A Rebel With a Cause"

Song:  t-bone
Album:  Re-ac-tor
Released:  November, 1981

Despite Rock and Roll’s reputation as a rebellious forum, there is one common denominator that all the songwriters I greatly respect have:  None are rebels without a cause.  They all earn their keep, and most espouse on this part of the equation in one way or another, including Neil Young, Paul McCartney, Pete Townshend, Mick Jagger, Roger Waters and Ray Davies.  When prompted by a listener of satellite radio's ‘Theme Time Radio Hour’ show several years ago to offer up his view on musicians who tour just for the money, Bob Dylan’s response was, in a nutshell, so what:  His point being that even if motivated just by the money, you still have to earn it, because nobody is going to want to see an act if they are not performing to task. 

These seminal songwriters were often surrounded by rebels without a cause though, including their fellow musicians and roadies.  Danny Whitten, Keith Moon, Richard Manuel, Brian Jones, and Bruce Berry all gained this notoriety over their careers (side note:  A commonality of Neil Young and Pete Townsend has been a unique ability to straddle these 2 worlds).  This slacker-like mentality eventually proved Moon et al’s undoing.  For a number of reasons, I don’t think it all that surprising that the songwriters mentioned here have survived, while a number of their very talented sidekicks are no longer here.

The largest contingent of slackers, however, were a good chunk of the 70s fan base of these songwriters.  On occasion, this made it hard for these musicians to look out at their audience.  I’m sure the ‘slacker’ thought crossed their mind.  It certainly did for Waters, who infamously spit on a fan in the front row of a concert.  The incident would play out in Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’, an album-title analogy that connotes the separation that inevitably happens between successful musicians and those who follow them. 

Neil Young’s own reaction to this separation comes out in the 1981 Crazy Horse album ‘Re-ac-tor’ (hence the title?).  It’s a very listenable album, but it has a drag-down, jaded feel about it.  Young was not touring at the turn of the decade.  This was partially due to a significant focus on his young son, Ben, diagnosed with a severe case of Cerebral palsy (see Forever Young # 26: “A Trans-formation”).  But I think there was more to it than that.  Hints of a jaded Neil are in his prior album ‘Hawks and Doves’, which, as the title would suggest, looks at the world through two different lenses.  Young was flirting with right-wing views, exemplified in his support for then-new President Ronald Reagan.  And yet although ‘Hawks and Doves’ is politically-charged, I’m of the belief that Young was trying to come to terms with the notion that Right and Left complement one another in a Yin/Yang duality sort of way. 

This carries over into ‘Re-ac-tor’, but here it looks as if his Right lobe was winning.  There are all sorts of veiled and overt hints, starting with the opening number opera star, a song about a rock-loving guy with a girlfriend who wants to go to the opera for a change.  But this guy wouldn’t be caught dead at an opera and tells her so.  At first, you would think this song is a rallying cry for the Rock and Roll lifestyle.  But the more I listen to it, the more I think it’s a put down.  “Some things never change; they stay the way they are” Young sings, with Crazy Horse “Ho, Ho, Ho”-ing in the background.  Years earlier, John Lennon would comment on the need to connect with the musical interests of your spouse, no matter how offensive this would seem to your younger self.  Neil Young, just then recently married to his life-long partner Peggy, seems to be listening to this view here.

Next up, surf-er joe and the sleaze, the ultimate slacker song (keeping with the song titles on the album, all words are lower case and hyphenated between syllables > why this is, I have no idea).  “Come on down for a pleasure cruise, plenty of woman, plenty of booze” he sings.  It appears both Surfer Joe and Moe the Sleaze have low standards in morality.  Neil may have known many characters like these when living in Florida (his ‘On the Beach’ years in the mid-70s), and perhaps for a while enjoyed their company.  Here, however, it seems he’s reevaluating.  There may also be some self-incrimination (in this song as well as in rap-id tran-sit).

The third song on ‘Re-ac-tor’, t-bone, is this weeks’ Forever Young entry, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pyvBpNwHuU )a 10-minute diatribe with but 2 repeating lines: “Got mashed potatoes” and “Ain’t got no T-bone”.  This goes on and on and on, to the point of hilariousness, complete with rhythmic clapping and Will Ferrell-like cowbell (in general though, the music in t-bone is solid Crazy Horse).  At first I recall thinking; well perhaps Neil Young decided to release a song before adding true lyrics, simply to show where his head was at the time, kind of like if Paul McCartney had released ‘Yesterday’ with its original title ‘Scrambled Eggs’ ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mo6CYJPDLUE ). 

Although this initial thought missed the mark, I don’t believe it does by much.  Peggy Young was a waitress when Neil met her at a restaurant, where the malcontent cook was known to blurt out “Ain’t got no T-bone!” any time a menu item would become unavailable (side note: Peggy Young is a vegetarian, which tosses another subplot into the mix, considering the lyrics).  I think Neil is making the same point to both his record producer and his fans here:  “I’m changing, and so don’t be expecting another ‘Rust Never Sleeps’ any time soon”.  What I find most interesting about this is that, unlike many artists, Young has always tried to work through his creative nadirs.  It’s all part of the process and t-bone bears this out.  The song is Neil Young’s answer to Revolution 9. 

Later in the album, there’s mo-tor cit-y, a lament on the decline of interest in American-made automobiles (“There’s already too many Datsun’s in this town”).  The song is patriotic, and reminiscent of Bob Dylan’s Union Sundown off of 1983’s ‘Infidels’ (another album with Right-leaning convictions, including Zionism).  Then there’s the aforementioned rap-id transit, which comes across to me as a druggies veiled regret.  Was Neil Young flipping a mirror on his audience?  Was he flipping it on himself?  Two years earlier, The Band released ‘The Last Waltz’.  Young’s performance in this monumental event was erratic, cocaine fueled, and somewhat disturbing.  It must have had him second guessing his priorities, which is one of many things to consider - in terms of Young’s morphing character - during the time of the release of ‘Re-ac-tor’ as well as over the ensuing decade. 

What were the members of Crazy Horse thinking during all of this?  It must have been quite the jolt to see these changing convictions in their band leader.  The entire band’s performances would be uneven throughout the 80s (at times incredible, and at other times not so much).  However, if you focus on just the music on ‘Re-ac-tor’, it’s all clearly consistent with other Crazy Horse albums.  This must have been what they focused their energies on.  The next Neil Young album ‘Trans’ started as a Crazy Horse album but the band was eventually replaced by….. a vocorder.  Perhaps there was a mutually agreed upon temporary parting of ways; a regrouping of sorts. 

A few times this week I thought, am I the only person in the entire world listening intently to t-bone at the moment?  I may have been.  The song was never destined to have much shelf life, and would likely not be a part of a Neil Young time-capsule if ever one was conceived. But ‘Re-ac-tor’ in particular and t-bone specifically capture a moment in the ever-evolving mindset of Neil Young, and in turn the ever-evolving mindset of America itself.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 29: "Into the Mystic"

Song:  Prairie Wind
Album:  Prairie Wind
Released:  March, 2005

Back in early 2006, Nancy and I went to Landmark Theatres in Kendall Square, Cambridge, with close friends Madeline and Jeff to watch the limited-release Neil Young concert film “Heart of Gold”.  The film documents the live-version premiere of ‘Prairie Wind’, along with interviews and an extended set of songs from Young’s back catalog.  Given the high-definition quality of the theatre’s technology and the close-up footage, it’s about as intimate as most of us would ever want to get with Young and entourage.  Use of binoculars to witness a musician’s interactions with bandmates and the crowd is one thing.  Pixilation that captures a person’s nose hairs is on another level entirely. 

Aside from the high resolution, the aspect of the movie that stuck with me the most were several of the brief interludes between songs (oddly enough considering the great music) when Neil Young discussed the then-recent decline and passing of his Dad, Scott Young, to Alzheimer’s.  There was a poignant moment when Young mentioned to the Nashville crowd that he and they were now taking on a new role as elders, making the educated guess that most of those in attendance were contemporaries.  Another great moment was when Young tried to lighten his personal heartache with a funny anecdote about his Dad, who had temporarily snapped out of memory loss months before his death while sitting in the passenger seat of his son’s car as they were driving down the highway.  The elder Young spotted a vehicle behind a billboard, and, as Neil Young described it, his Dad snapped to attention and blurted out “Cop!”.  Telling this story, Young’s smirk belied the heavy emotions in his eyes.

From what I have read, Scott Young appears to have been a fascinating character in his own right.  He was a Canadian journalist in a variety of genera’s including as a professional hockey sportswriter.   One of his biggest claims to fame was standing up to the NHL in 1948 by writing an article in the Toronto-based Maclean’s Magazine titled “Hogtied Hockey”, which exposed the virtual lifelong servitude a hockey player in those days had with the team who discovered him, regardless of the number of years the player had initially agreed to in a contract.  Scott Young was ostracized by the powers that be in Toronto, but never let this stop him from doing what he believed to be honest journalism.

“Heart of Gold” (the movie), as well as the album that spurred it, ‘Prairie Wind’, reveals Neil Young at a time when he was facing his own mortality.  Between his father’s passing, and reflections of 911 (which he sings about here on No Wonder, a song that has a Steve Earle Copperhead Road feel about it) and a bout with a brain aneurism, and the death of other close associations (including Buffalo Springfield bassist Bruce Palmer and the mother of his first child, Carrie Snodgress), there is much that can be linked to the fragility of Young’s psyche and music during this period (the song It’s a Dream is enough to come to this conclusion).  And it sounds as if he’s reaching in directions he rarely had before, including explorations of faith (When God Made Me). 

But it’s the music of the inexplicable and mysterious that captures the imagination on ‘Prairie Wind’, none more so than the title track ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6jQhnF6LMw ), a song reminiscent of Bob Dylan’s Cold Irons Bound in its rhythmic intensity.  This chugging pace kicks in immediately, and soon the lyrics turn things up a notch:

“Trying to remember what my Daddy said

Before too much time took away his head

He said we’re going back and I’ll show you what I’m talking about

Back to Cypress River, back to the old farmhouse”

The small town of Cypress River in Southwest, Manitoba is in the heart of prairie country, and was where Scott Young was born and raised, later moving to Ontario after meeting and marrying Neil’s Mom, Rassy.  After Neil’s parents split when he was in his teen years, he moved back to southern Manitoba (Winnipeg) with his Mom.  To this day, he considers this region his home.  The prairies capture the imagination of Neil Young in a handful of songs on ‘Prairie Wind’.  Here I see yet another connection with Dylan, in relation to the latter’s song Highlands, which has the feel of prairie longing as well.  Dylan’s reference is a bit obscure, as would be expected from the man.  With Neil Young, however, there is no ambiguity. 

What is it about the prairies, those vast expanses of open space where the sky is big and the tall grass is endless?  Neil Young dances with this question in Prairie Wind.  There is reference to Plains Indians, and to the “northern lights” (the Aurora Borealis), and the wind.  When I first heard the song I thought the refrain was “prairie wind blowing through my hair”, but it’s “head” not “hair”, which exponentially magnifies the meaning.  All of this revolves around his Dad’s roots, a concept which is always close at hand.  But the question asked at the beginning of the song is never answered; Neil trying but failing to recall what his Dad told him years earlier:

“There's a place on the prairie where evil and goodness play
Daddy told me all about it but I don't remember what he said
It might be afternoon and it might be the dead of night
But you'll know when you see it 'cause it sure is a hell of a sight”

This is where the song glides into inscrutable shaman territory.  Most artists would lose me here, but there are a few talented musicians that can be so convincing in these kinds of convictions, they keep me glued.  Van Morrison is one, with his numerous mystical examinations of his Irish homeland (hence the title of this blog entry).  Neil Young is another, and his connection with mysticism is mostly driven by his adopted Native American interests.  Which for me begs the question:  Was this interest the case with his Dad as well?  The lyrics to Prairie Wind certainly support this hypothesis. 

Neil Young has always presented himself and his music from a North American perspective, including as a Canadian, an American, and a Native American.  Its one reason he has a substantial fan base this side of The Pond; a base that crosses races, creeds, and political affiliations.  Young has seized these connections, traversing the continent and identifying with its treasures - both cultural and natural - in ways very few others have.  Apparently the prairies have factored in heavily to this identification.  It makes sense:  There is no equivalent anywhere else in the world.  The closest similarities are Patagonia in Argentina and the steppes of Central Russia.  But the prairie is a uniquely North American phenomenon.

Neil Young must have been quite young when his Dad took him back to Cypress River to partake in the experience described in Prairie Wind.  I say this because an older and wiser Neil would likely have clung on to every word uttered by his Dad during such an event.   But thinking back to our earliest memories most of us can easily slip up when trying to recall important moments that others (his Dad in this case) considered vital at the time. The other extreme end of the spectrum can bring the onset of Alzheimer’s and dementia, the unfortunate ending to many people’s lives.  And so, forgetfulness at the beginning of life can come back full circle at the end.   

Is this the concept that is at the core of Prairie Wind?  It’s hard to say.  The song is wrapped up in so many mystiques.  Some questions you just have to leave hanging out there, tossing and turning, in the prairie wind.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 28: "At the Root of It All"

Song:  Wonderin’
Album:  Everybody’s Rockin’
Released:  August, 1983

Ever since its birth in the 50s, Rock and Roll has proven to be an extremely fluid genre, morphing with the times and as a consequence, built to last.  I’m not familiar enough with other musical genera’s to qualify this as unique, but I’m willing to make an educated guess that it is.  This shape changing ability is one of the most powerful aspects of the Rock and Roll brand, and anyone with an interest and an open mind can connect themselves through the generations.  The music unifies those of us who love it, no matter your age, but at the same time it allows each of our eras to stand out as a significant contribution to the whole. 

Nothing proves the morphing nature of Rock and Roll more than the changes that took place in the art form from the 50s to the 60s.  Compare a song like Jail House Rock to one like Gimme Shelter and that transformation can only be deemed profound.  Don McLean lamented these changes in his song American Pie, going so far as to suggest that there was a discernable loss of innocence in the process.  I’d agree with this assessment, but only because both R&R and Mclean were coming of age during this period.  The 60s demonstrated that the music could mature in mind-boggling ways.  The rebelliousness of the era simply conspired to emphasize this over a natural expanse of time (youth to adulthood).

The amazing take home message here, however, is that there really was no disconnect; no history of the new leaving the old in the dust.  On the contrary, connections are rampant from 50s to 60 icons.  Keith Richards was awestruck and greatly inspired by Chuck Berry (to the point of putting up with Berry’s renowned temperament by recording and performing with him in the completely uncharacteristic role of lackey).  Lou Reed took his queues from Dion.  Dylan was blown away by Elvis Presley.  Paul McCartney got his groove from Buddy Holly.  The list goes on and on.  For a kid taking the genre in for the first time in the 70s - one step removed so to speak - these connection can be difficult to discern.  To these ears, 50s Rock and Roll sounds rudimentary and a bit too polished.  Why such accolades from the 60s musicians I so admire toward their predecessors?

I thought long and hard about this over the past few weeks while listening to Neil Young’s throwback rockabilly album, ‘Everybody’s Rockin’.  It’s an abbreviated disc, clocking in and out in 30 minutes, with short drive-it-home songs, the way things were done in the 50s.  It showcases Young and his once off band, the Shocking Pinks channeling Buddy Holly and Jerry Lee Lewis in admirable fashion.  Neil Young had actually intended this as a concept album, and was in the process of adding several more songs when the chord was cut on the production by Young’s record company owner, David Geffen.  Geffen was outraged that Young was continuing along a path of not producing ‘classic rock albums’, exemplified in the previous release, ‘Trans’ (see Forever Young # 26 ‘A Trans-formation’).  ** Geffen by the way would never get his wish throughout the entire life of the 8-album contract.

I decided to zero in on Young’s intention of a concept album.  A concept about what?  Most of the songs that appear on ‘Everybody’s Rockin’ are love lost laments, including covers of Rainin’ in My Heart, Bright Lights, Big City and Mystery Train, along with originals Cry, Cry, Cry, and this weeks’ Forever Young entry Wonderin’  ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6a6A6oTFdcw ).  There’s also a finger-pointing call out to the radio station payola scams of the day (Payola Blues) and several light-hearted efforts, including the upbeat Kinda Fonda Wanda (lyrically reminiscent of the Who’s Mary-Anne With the Shaky Hands). All in all, there’s nothing particularly revealing here in terms of concept. 

So, I honed in on those 2 songs that did not make the album:  Get Gone and Don’t Take Your Love Away From Me.  Both tracks eventually appear on Young’s ‘Lucky 13’ compilation album, a collection of his best works from the off-kilter Geffen era.   Don’t Take Your Love Away From Me did not add much to the big picture, other than one line that stuck: “When I make a promise you can bet that it’s true”.  Get Gone however, pulled it all together for me.  Get Gone is a cautionary tale about a band that starts out authentic but eventually sells out to the ‘city slicker’, ultimately leading to a fiery plane crash “a little low on fuel “ while on a big tour. 

I thought more about American Pie and what 50s music meant to Neil Young’s generation.  I thought about youth and idealism and honesty and truth and innocence and young love.  I thought about roots.  And then it hit home.  ‘Everybody’s Rockin’ was meant to be a roots album, not just in the obvious musical style of the songs, but in all meaning of the term.  I’m sure of it.  And I do believe that Young’s explorations throughout the 80s were centered on this notion of rekindling with which you once were at the root of it all:  The days when everything was an experiment and nothing was old hat.  The days of feeling helpless.

Wonderin’ is one of Neil Young’s hidden gems.  The song was written well over a decade before ‘Everyboy’s Rockin’ release in 1983, and was modified somewhat to better fit the rockabilly style of the album.  Young’s vocals are appropriately plaintive here.  He sounds exactly like someone who has been wandering the streets all night, talking to himself, past the point of craziness, wondering if a loving relationship is still intact. The video is apropos; the juxtaposition of Neil Young’s disheveled, unshaven all-nighter appearance to the Shocking Pinks suave look and feel makes all the more clear the state of affairs.  I get a kick out of Young’s demeanor.  It’s so…..gonzo.

Neil Young once stated that he put his all into ‘Everybody’s Rockin’ and the subsequent tour.  I believe him.  I’ve watched several clips of shows during this period, and Young and company were definitely into it.  At the time there were not many examples of 60s and 70s rock stars tracing themselves back to earlier eras.  John Lennon released ‘Rock n’ Roll’ in 1975, which was a recognition of his influences, and Joe Jackson did the same with’ Jumpin’ Jive’ in 1981.  Since these forays, there have been many more efforts along these lines. 

The closest I come to identifying with 50s music is the early Beatles and Stones.  But both bands were already a step removed from Long Tall Sally when they began penning their own songs.   There was already something new in the air in 1963.  Other than the occasional tribute like ‘Everybody’s Rockin’, it’s really all about building on that early foundation.  For 60 years running, Rock and Roll has proven that it can keep adding bricks.  I may not fully identify with the earliest form of the music I love, but there is no mistaking the recognition of it as the simpler sound of such. 

But roots?  Well, we can all identify with that concept.  60s musicians were lucky.  They got to take a young art form and advance it through its formative years.  They did this in brilliant fashion.  But none of them ever forgot where they came from. 

-          Pete