Neil Young

The essence of Neil Young is jarring. Sometimes it's like cold water thrown into your face, sometimes it's like you stepped in shit, and sometimes it's an off key note that says, 'there are no such thing as rock stars, how long can you look me in the face'. In the middle of a chorus, in the middle of a verse, in the middle of a note, sometimes he'll look up from a song, and there's no rockstars left alive and the song's no longer safe. He's not the Eagles, he's not Bob Dylan, or Joni Mitchell, or Bruce Springsteen, or whatever other singer or group they sometimes class him with. Bruce is one of my heroes but he never drops the poker face. What makes Neil different is that he's sometimes grinded the whole thing to a screeching halt that's then rolled over into a ditch, exploded, and burst into flames. And it's in those screeches and on that halt that Neil stands out unconquerably great. Barely a God, but barely will cut it. After the gold rush it comes down like a hurricane. "Being human isn't pretty", as he digs into his tracks, and turns his amp on in the rain. Sparks are flying from his wires, Cortez is dancing across the sea. "Fuckin' Up" and Eddie Vedder. Laurel canyon's filled with water, mud's up past David Brigg's knees. Lightning flashes in the sky, the rain is knocking down the trees. The mud slides down the canyon walls, the Earth is spurting fire. He tightens up a guitar string, "Pretend to be something you're not. You'll see how quick time fades away". "Down by the River" and the Earth has brought the river, so he started walking down there, his amp in one hand and the other around his baby.









Next post I'll start writing "the 10 greatest Neil Young songs".