Forever Young # 37: "A Pardon of the Partisan Kind"

Song:  Campaigner
Album:  Decade
Released:  October, 1977

I’m thinking it was five October’s ago, when Peter was 11 years old.  Or maybe it was six years ago when he was 10.  Anyhow, Nancy and I took the big guy to a local department store with a large costume section to choose a Halloween outfit.  He looked over quite a variety of options, from Freddy Krueger to Blackbeard, to the Scream, and finally settled on…. a Richard Nixon mask.  I laughed, scratched my head and asked “are you kidding?”  He wasn’t kidding.  This was what he wanted to wear.  There really was no explanation for it and to this day I still can’t figure out what drew him to that mask.  I mean, Peter was (and still is) about as apolitical as they come.  But after realizing he was serious, I ran with it and over the next few days proceeded to give him a few Nixonian gestures to work on (including the two-arm extended ‘V’ victory sign, hunched shoulder, jaw extended) a few quotes (including “My fellow Americans”) and a little history lesson. 

He worked on it and got pretty good too.  I have to say it was all pretty funny, but not nearly as funny as how the actual Halloween night played out.  Our neighborhood is one of the prime places in town to trick-or-treat; being stacked with houses on cul-de-sac side streets.  And so one of Peter’s good friends, Joey, got dropped off at our home for an evening excursion out and about amongst a variety of witches goblins and parents.  When Joey stepped out of his Dad’s car, he was dressed from head to toe, as a police officer, complete with Billy club and handcuffs.  This also took me by surprise, and I must say he looked the part.  We took a few pictures of the two of them and in the process it all started to feel hilariously bizarre.  It only got funnier.  Peter was a bit faster than his buddy, so throughout the night, as they ran from door to door it appeared as if the policeman was chasing the former President.  At one home, a lady opened the door looked out and said “Ahhh, Nixon and the cop, ehhh?”  Yes, there were a few belly laughs that crisp fall night.

I know I flashed back that evening.  Back to the early 70s and the first President of the United States who I knew of at the time of his Presidency (I was just 5 years old when Lyndon Johnson declared “I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term….”, and so have no recollection of the 36^th President).  I guess you could say I was a bit jaded out of the gate in relation to what it took to be the executive leader of the free world.  Nixon was under siege in those earliest years of my Oval Office insights due to the Watergate scandal, and would resign by August of 1974 (half way through his second term).  For all that Bill Clinton and George Bush and Barak Obama have faced in terms of public obsession with their job performance these past decades, it all pales in comparison to the late Nixon years. 

My aunt and uncle were great defenders of Nixon.  I witnessed this first hand and found it odd.  But I also found odd the abuse hurdled the President’s way from the opposite direction.  There were imitations (Rich Little being the best) and records and comic strips and eventually…. masks.  Everyone had an opinion.  In the summer of ’74 it seemed to be all the adults talked (and argued) about.  Nixon was everywhere.  My grandmother had a parade of anti-Nixon books in her parlor.  Dad purchased an inflatable boat and dubbed it “The Watergate”.  When we went to Washington D.C. a few years after Nixon’s resignation, seeing the actual office complex where the crime that eventually took down a President took place was almost as intense as riding past the White House for the first time just up the road.

We all put up defense mechanisms when under attack, and Richard Nixon had his share of them.  This came across as Machiavellian to most, which just seemed to make matters worse for him.  It was a very uncomfortable period for the country.  Heck, I was only 12 years old, and I was uncomfortable.  Congressional hearings were all over the television.  America was laid bare; dysfunctional at best, corrupt at worst.  In the end, a President was toppled.  It was not a pretty sight, and there would be long-term ramifications.  Finger pointing intensified over the subsequent decades, both in the left and right direction.   It seems to get worse with every administration, and there appears no end in sight.  This all can be traced back to a rift that began to expand exponentially with Nixon and Watergate. 

But many of us tend to forget that a funny thing happened after Nixon’s resignation:  Most Americans started feeling sorry for him.  The image of the lonely California beach stroller took hold.  Wife Pat went ill, which added to the sympathy.  And for all his faults, it slowly seeped into the counter-culture consciousness that Nixon had some very insightful policy to hang his hat on.  The EPA was established under him.  There was the Clean Water Act, the Clean Air Act, restrictions on trade with Japan due to their whaling practices, and the Endangered Species Act (and even more important to a younger version of me at the time, he traded a muskox for a giant panda with the Chinese). 

For an environmental-minded person like myself who focuses on these types of issues as extremely important, it’s all too hard to ignore.  The fact of the matter is that Dick Nixon did some good things, and I can’t help comparing these advancements to the current state of affairs.  I mean, can anyone imagine this type of legislation kicking in on today’s Republican agenda?  On the contrary, many of them are trying to dismantle such progress.  So I do think Nixon’s legacy has at the very least hung in there over the past few decades…at least for those of us who were (and are) on the other side of the ideological fence.

Yes, the country was caught up in all things Nixon in the mid-70s, and Neil Young was no exception.  He sang “Tin Soldiers and Nixon coming” on Ohio (see Forever Young # 27).  He included a famous newspaper headline related to Watergate on his 1974 ‘On the Beach’ cover (“Sen Buckley calls for Nixon to resign”).  And he wrote and sang Campaigner, post resignation, which – and this should be no surprise for Young aficionados - makes room for reconciliation.  Before I discuss this, there’s something I’ve been observing for some time and it is this:  For a Rock and Roller, Neil Young is unusual in his call for strong elective leadership.  He’s been doing it from the beginning of his career and has not stopped, seeing this character trait as an answer to problems that confront us all.  When Young is disappointed, he does not hesitate to let his feelings show in word and song.  He was certainly disappointed with Richard Nixon, but was almost immediately ready to do what he could to start the healing process after the fact.  Gerald Ford initiated it all with a pardon.   Neil Young was not far behind.

Campaigner ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rv7XaLG6zC8 ) is one of Neil Young’s most heartfelt songs, which is amazing considering the subject matter.   Some think it sounds like Neil Young poking fun at Nixon (“Even Richard Nixon has got soul” he sings).  But I don’t think so.  It’s just too stark, bordering on mournful, to be so.  There’s something deeper going on here.  I don’t want to call it regret, but it’s something like that.  Young recognizes there is soul in Richard Millhouse Nixon, and I believe in the process recognizes there is soul in all of us.  A moment like this can be enlightening for anyone.  Young seems to be capturing his own revelation on record, which makes it extraordinary.

I’ve been listening all week to the “Complete Joel Bernstein Tapes” (thanks C. Brady) which are classic recordings of live Neil Young from a variety of venues in 1976.  The version of Campaigner on this collection is particularly poignant, and may likely be one of the first recordings of the song.  It’s interesting that a Boston venue would have been chosen by Bernstein for inclusion of Campaigner in his collection.  Perhaps it’s because he simply has a very good ear for quality.  Given that Massachusetts was the only State that did not vote for Nixon in 1972 (along with the District of Columbia) Young may have been moved to put a little more gusto into the song while in the Hub, and Bernstein seems to have noticed (if you want a listen, go to http://bigozine2.com/roio/?p=1643 and click on Track 1). 

So there you have.  Neil Young did his part to help exorcise the bad vibes that played out on our National stage in the early to mid-70s, in turn allowing a counter culture to soften its tone, making room for kinder, gentler (and sillier) thoughts.  Many years after the fact, seeing my son run from door to door with that exaggerated Nixon caricature over his face, that’s all I had room for.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 36: "Facing the Music"

Song:  Tonight’s the Night
Album:  Tonight’s the Night

Released:  June, 1975 (2 year delayed-release)

One of Neil Young’s most oft quoted statements is one he wrote in the liner notes for ‘Decade’.  In it he states that ‘Heart of Gold’, the acclaimed 1972 album with his only #1 song (the title cut) “put me in the middle of the road.  Travelling there soon became a bore, so I headed for the ditch” (* Side note:  The term “Ditch Trilogy”, coined by Young aficionados in reference to his subsequent 3 morose albums, is tied to this statement).   Young was alluding to the commercial soft-rock success of ‘Heart of Gold’ and the necessity to move on in order to stay fresh.  There were a number of directions Young could have gone, but the direction he chose (or was chosen for him) was straight down.  Down to places most musicians don’t want to go.  I’m not referring to a dark side, as some might think.  I’m referring to facing pain and suffering head on.  And in the early years of the 1970s, Neil Young had plenty of this to confront.

The 3^rd album in the trilogy ‘Tonight’s the Night’ (which was actually the 2^nd considering when it was produced in comparison to its release) is in the ditch alright; a ditch festooned with barbed wire and cow manure.  I already wrote a Forever Young entry about it (# 14), but at the time, promised to come back, if only to focus on the title track. After all, Tonight’s the Night ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFIcQU8K4AY ) rivals a handful of songs in terms of how often I have seen it performed live.  It’s not one of my favorite tunes; not by a long shot.  But as with the Rolling Stones Satisfaction, which I was also apathetic to, yet ended up giving its own Stepping Stone (# 41, September 2012), I’ve grown to respect Tonight’s the Night, if for no other reason than the songwriter’s own fascination for it (as is the case with Satisfaction).  I’ll try to explain why here.    

‘Tonight’s the Night’ was the first of Neil Young’s compositions that had a reprise, that being the title track, which occurs at the beginning and end of the record (the two others that come to mind are My My, Hey Hey {Out of the Blue} / Hey Hey, My My {Into the Black} off 1979s ‘Rust Never Sleeps’ and Rockin’ in the Free World - acoustic and electric versions - off of 1989s ‘Freedom’).  This to me had always meant that there was a storyline here.  But for many years I had thought it to simply be a loose affiliation of songs related to the decline and eventual overdose death of two of Young’s close friends, Danny Whitten and Bruce Berry, sung from the songwriter’s point of view (with most songs put to tape during one late hazy night jam session in August of 1973, giving the whole product a cohesive sound and feel).

Fine enough.  That works as a storyline.  But after doing some more reading on the subject, it was Young himself who raised the bar a few notches for me, setting the record straight (no pun intended) by hinting in an interview with Rolling Stone Magazine that the song sequence may actually be a bit closer to the fatally-flawed sources of his inspiration.  In other words, the album is an attempt to frame the story from Whitten and Berry’s point of view on their downward spiral from troubled to “too far gone” to the grave.  Of course, few if any can self-reflect when they are in such a frame of mind (Dylan Thomas perhaps?).  And so Neil Young and company (Ben Keith, Nils Lofgren, Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina) attempt to put themselves in the shoes of their lost friends.  When you listen to it in this context, ‘Tonight’s the Night’ enters a new realm of intensity and clarity, and in the process I believe it significantly helps to propel Young into the single-digit pantheon of rock immortals.

I would like to think there are few in this world who would want to achieve lofty stature upon such a tragedy as the premature loss of two close friends to overdose (this thought brings to mind Jon Krakauer getting flack for writing ‘Into Thin Air’ about his personal account of the 1996 Mt. Everest Disaster).  Certainly not Neil Young, since it’s clear that for him the ramifications would be lasting in his writing and reflections on these events throughout his career; and not in a good way (at least for him).  The pain is palpable and it is to Young’s credit that he never really has put this behind him.  Much like Pink Floyd who penned ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, Shine on You Crazy Diamond and ‘The Wall’ with founding member Syd Barrett in mind (after Barrett slipped into LSD-induced madness early in the band’s career).  In both cases, the musicians focused much of their writing on trying to come to grips with what had occurred.  

We the fans heard it all and felt it all, which is ultimately why this focus paid off.  It was a lesson learned for us 2^nd generation listeners growing up in the 70s.  Why did I personally get caught up in it?  I mean, my goodness, this material is dour.  Well, why does anyone get caught up in artistic reflection of misstep and misfortune, be it Greek Tragedy, Shakespeare, opera, Don Quixote, or a movie like ‘Saving Private Ryan’.  It all comes down to this:  Good art is truth, no matter the subject matter or forum, and people recognize it as such.

Over the years, Neil Young let go of many of the songs on ‘Tonight’s the Night’ as touring staples (oh, what a treat it would be to see him play Albuquerque, Lookout Joe, Come on Baby Let’s Go Downtown or Tired Eyes), but he never let go of the title track no matter who he was touring with.  Why?  I believe it goes back to that concept of using the song as a reprise on the album.  At the beginning of the record it feels like a living, breathing set of three words, sung by Bruce Berry (with Young filling in) in haunting refrain.  At the end of the album the words echo like a ghost around the band and us. 

What this song means most to me is that Berry, who was the roadie for CSNY, was working on his own music, his own songs, playing Neil Young’s guitar late at night (“after the people were gone”) with the hope that he’d break through a mental barrier by repeating the refrain “Tonight’s the night” again and again.  Young found Bruce Berry’s singing “as real as the day was long”, and so lamented that this fledging talent was never realized.  Yet this song feels like a lament for all untapped talent, all unrealized dreams, snuffed out prematurely in one form or another. 

Neil Young never tried to complete Bruce Berry’s song.  He just took the “Tonight’s the Night” refrain and built it into his own song.  It’s fascinating that for all Young has written and all he has covered it’s these 3 words, originally sung by a roadie, that may just be what he, in the end, has repeated most in front of large crowds of people.  It says a lot about the man, and about these life-changing events and the effects they had on him.

Many of us listening were too young and naïve to truly realize the intensity of what played out in front of us in our earliest years of attending Neil Young concerts and hearing, Tonight’s the Night.  But life has a way of catching up with you, eventually making such a story all too real.  These are the crossroad moments.  Do you face the music, as Neil Young did, or do you find ways to move on and suppress? 

I vote for facing the music (literally and figuratively), because in the end this is what resonates and gives us pause, hopefully leading to action and ultimately the prevention of similar Berry/Whitten-like consequences.

-          Pete

Forever Young # 35: "Shedding the Baggage"

Song:  Mansion on the Hill
Album:  Ragged Glory
Released:  April, 1990

Anybody who loves Neil Young’s music has probably been touched at one point or another by his 1972 gem, Old Man off of the ‘Harvest’ album.  It’s a beautiful song, about a young man recognizing himself in someone much older.  Old Man is one of a short list of tunes in Young’s vast catalog where the story behind it is pretty well established.  When he purchased the sprawling, majestic Broken Arrow Ranch in Northern California after early success, Young met the elderly caretaker of the place who wanted to know how a hippie like him could afford it.  The musician responded that he was very lucky and tried to emphasize that he was not much different than anyone else.  The impact of this discussion eventually lead to Old Man, including one of the key repeating lines in the song:  “Old Man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were”. 

 There is a key word in that line, and it’s the last one; ‘were’.  If the word had been ‘are’ instead, the song would have taken on a different meaning, and could easily have been received as a bit of a slight.  Not a significant one mind you, but one nonetheless.  After all, how could anyone put themselves in the shoes of a person much older….someone with many more years of living under their belt….someone with far more experience in life?  Neil Young knew this for a fact.  How did I come to this conclusion?  It’s because of a song he wrote many years later, this week’s Forever Young entry, Mansion on the Hill, which comes complete with a bonafide classic of an MTV video ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1WpgTzf8nk ).  Both video and song need some serious dissecting.  I’m here to serve.

Before doing so, a brief overview is in order.  Mansion on the Hill is a hard rocking song on a hard rocking album; ‘Ragged Glory’.  The entire package is pretty darn impressive without taking anything else into account, but to consider that Young and his entourage, Crazy Horse, were in their mid-40s when they released this disc makes it even more provoking.  In the short history of the middle-aged rocker, there really is no one else to compare to in terms of creativity and spark.  Yes, Neil Young and crew had our attention in 1990, but again, the important thing to remember is that this was a unique (mid-life) stage for any rock musician to be achieving such lofty -and deserved - recognition, especially for something as raucous as ‘Ragged Glory’.  And they seized the moment, in more ways than one.  Much of the album helps explain this, but a few key concepts come together on Mansion on the Hill. 

What follows is one man’s interpretation of this song and video.

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I guess I’ll start from the top.  Like many MTV videos in the day, there’s a brief pre-music introduction to Mansion on the Hill (think Michael Jackson’s Thriller, the intro of which was much more expansive overkill).  A deceased Neil Young is prone on a hospital gurney, the doctors and nurses gearing up to tell the family, when to their shock, he rises - presumably from the dead - and states that he’ll inform them himself.  It’s funny, but what’s going on here?  Well, I’ll get to that.  Anyhow, the swinging doors to the hospital room open in front of him to what appears to be the afterlife, and Young steps into the cloudy mist, just as the Crazy Horse backbeat kicks in. 

A few moments later we see a disheveled Young making his way into this mansion-of-a home through the front door, guitar in one hand, amp in the other.  He’s sporting an Elvis t-shirt while appearing to have been through the mill (or at least an extremely intense tour).  At first viewing you would think this is the tail end of the opening sequence.  But it’s not. 

Before I go any further, I think it may be helpful (for me at least) to point out that Neil Young appears to play 4 personas (of himself, or anyone for that matter) in this video (and since I think it accurately portrays the song, let’s go with that too).  And though it’s a relatively short tune for NY & Crazy Horse, there’s quite a bit of complexity playing out with each character trait.  To make it easier moving forward, here’s what I see as the 4 personas:

1. Enlightened Neil: Older and wiser.  This is the Neil who is rising from the dead on the gurney at the beginning of the video and who later jams on stage with his band.

2. Frazzled Neil: Naive and younger, but on the edge of turning it all around.  This is the Neil who walks in the front door of the mansion as the music kicks in (and is not seen again until a bit later in the video, at the gas station, which I will also get to).
3. Preacher Neil: Sees the world in black and white.  While conducting a funeral service for an elderly man (in this video), he initially seems obsessed with the notion of towing the line rather than rocking the boat.  Preacher Neil and Frazzled Neil have much in common, and could actually be one in the same.
4. Toast Neil:  The crazed gas station attendant giving directions.  I’ll get to him.
* Note: there is overlap in all these personas, which is refreshing:  No multi split-Sybil personalities here.

Ok, so with these character descriptions laid out, I can move ahead.  The next part of the video is my favorite, which is a fast-moving, dream-like tunnel sequence as we are introduced to Neil Young’s lead guitar playing (up to that point he can be heard doing a bit of rhythm-guitar back-and-fourth with Frank Sampedro).  Young is accompanied in this sequence by two EMTs.  This appears to be Young transitioning from Frazzled Neil to Enlightened Neil.  It’s fantastic.  And when they finally come out at the end of the tunnel, the lyrics kick in with a jamming, Enlightened Neil, on stage singing:

“ Well I saw an old man walking in my place

When he looked at me it could have been my face

His words were kind, but his eyes were wild

He said I got a load to love, but I want one more child ”

Preacher Neil makes his introduction in the last 2 verses above (starting with “but his eyes were wild”).  At this stage, it appears Preacher Neil is not too happy with how the deceased man’s (lying in front of him) life played out in his later years, but as the scene switches back over to the band, it’s clear that Enlightened Neil is reveling in the notion.  Here’s where the refrain kicks in:

“ There’s a mansion on the hill

Psychedelic music fills the air

Peace and love live there still

In that mansion on the hill “

This first time the refrain is sung, it’s by Enlightened Neil.  I believe he’s trying to explain that there was a part of him that never wanted to let that 60s dream go.  But now he’s singing about that dream in the proper context:  Something to feed on, but not to let it feed on him. 

After a patented mid-song jam, the second stanza unfolds:

“ Around the next bend take the highway to the sun

Or the rocky road, it really don’t matter which one

Well, I was in a hurry, but that don’t matter now

‘Cause I had to get off of that road of tears somehow “

The first 2 verses are sung by Toast Neil, who is giving an elderly woman directions to the Mansion on the Hill.  I interpret this persona as a manifestation of what Young believes is going on in his head when he persists with living in the past.  The elderly woman is driving a hearse:  Could this be “Mort”, Young’s first road-trip vehicle back in the 60s (a symbol of living in the past)?  This concept is reinforced when Frazzled Neil makes his reappearance, singing the 3^rd verse above from the passenger seat.  Here, the older woman is now young and beautiful (the passenger’s face is never shown with the older version of this woman…. too revealing perhaps?).  The lyrics fit perfectly; Frazzled Neil is seeing the light.  I think what it’s all saying is that we age rapidly when we live in the past and stay young and vital when we live in the present.  A nice added touch is that the preacher comes around too, singing the enlightened fourth verse above, along with the 2^nd refrain. 

In all, a perfect blend of fun and brilliance. 

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I think Neil Young took a bullet for the team here.  In comparison to many of us, he’s had little problem moving on; not becoming stale. But I’m sure that shedding the baggage has been difficult for him at times as well. The most inspiring line in Mansion on the Hill is what the older version of Neil Young says to his younger self in the first verse: “I got a load to love, but I want one more child”.  It’s the line that brought me back to Old Man.  It’s the kind of thinking that keeps us charging ahead, in spite of our past successes; to never rest on our laurels.

It’s yet another reason why I write these blog entries.

 

-          Pete

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