I'm a little more than halfway through my project of evaluating and ranking the entire Neil Young discography. Since I'm working through the albums roughly chronologically, that means I'm just reaching 1990 right now. That also means I've made it through the Geffen years, not an easy task if you're familiar with Young's entire body of work.
In case you're not, Neil Young's Geffen years were the period from 1982 to 1987 during which he produced five somewhat experimental and highly controversial albums for Geffen Records. There's much more to the story, of course, but I'm not going to get into it. Suffice it to say, Geffen was not pleased with Neil and was happy to let him return to his old label, Reprise Records, upon the completion of his contract.
5. "Sample and Hold" (Trans)
Young's experimentation with electronic music, including the use of a vocoder to synthesize his voice, seems much less questionable when you realize his motivations for doing so. Years after its release, Young revealed some of the songs on Trans are intended to represent the difficulty his youngest son, Ben, disabled due to severe cerebral palsy, has with communication. While there are a few misses on that album, this is one of the songs that hits the mark.
4. "Are There Any More Real Cowboys?" (Old Ways)
I first heard this song during Neil's 1993 Farm Aid performance, which I still have on VHS somewhere. Neil was in rare form that night, drinking a beer on stage and spewing some particularly vitriolic criticisms at Vice President Al Gore and Secretary of Agriculture Mike Espy. Willie Nelson guests on the album version, and also joins him onstage for the Farm Aid performance.
Although it has nothing to do with Young's Geffen years, you can get a taste of that Farm Aid 1993 performance, as Young and Nelson perform "Farmer's Song," a tune that only appears on album as "Last of His Kind (The Farm Aid Song)" on the 1999 Farm Aid Volume One compilation.
3. "Old Ways" (Old Ways)
Old Ways was the only album during the Geffen years that wasn't out of character for Young. Unfortunately, it was a mostly unsuccessful attempt at straight-up country. In fact, he and his band, the International Harvesters, do a much better job of channeling their country energy on the long lost but recently released live album, A Treasure. Still, Old Ways had its moments, and the title track was the best one of all, in my opinion.
2. "Transformer Man" (Trans)
It should be obvious, at this point, that Trans and Old Ways were my two favorite Neil Young albums from this period. I'll admit I like the version of this song that appears on 1993's Unplugged even better, but the original recording was the high point of Young's first Geffen release.
1. "Mideast Vacation" (Life)
Although it might seem like a questionable choice for #1 on this list, "Mideast Vacation" has been my favorite song from this era ever since I first picked up a copy of the compilation Lucky Thirteen. Since it's a difficult song to describe, I'll leave you with this live version—which is basically a video, except without the video—from the 1986 "3rd Best Garage Band in the World" tour:
Showing posts with label Neil Young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neil Young. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Ranking the Neil Young Discography
I have a tendency towards starting many projects that I never finish. Don't get me wrong. I finish a lot of them, but just as many end up getting placed on the back burner.
From Hank to Hideki? I'll get back to it eventually.
The Left Field 100? Stalled at about one-third of the way to completion.
I've even struggled with getting around to my year-end compilation the past couple of years. In fact, I've handed out a grand total of three 2010 comps to friends I've actually seen since I completed the playlist in February of this year.
That one I can chalk up to life-related excuses, though. Well, I guess I can use that excuse to cover other instances of slacking off as well.
Anyway, you get what I'm driving at. But, here is one project I promise to see through to completion. It might...uh, rather, it will take a few months, but I think it's time I tackled the concept of ranking the entire Neil Young discography.
Of course, these rankings will be entirely based on my opinion rather than viewed from a critical perspective. Well, because I'm hardly a music critic. So, there may be a few unconventional choices, but so be it.
I have a dilemma, though. That is, what to do with live albums and compilations. Obviously, live records that consist of previously unreleased material, such as Rust Never Sleeps and Time Fades Away, are as much proper albums as the studio releases. Then there are the live albums that capture a single performance—Live at Massey Hall 1971 and Live at the Fillmore East, for example—which feel like more legitimate releases than live compilations such as Live Rust and Weld.
Normally, the answer to the question of what to do with compilations of studio material is an easy one. That is, don't consider them. But, of course, with Neil Young it's not so easy. Decade, for instance, while primarily including his greatest hits from 1966 to 1976, also contains the previously unreleased "Down to the Wire," "Winterlong," "Deep Forbidden Lake," "Love is a Rose" and "Campaigner." And, then there's Journey Through the Past, the soundtrack to Young's bizarre film of the same name.
So, maybe there will be a critical element to my rankings, in that I'll probably rate the live albums in terms of whether or not the concert versions do justice to the originals or in any way are compelling re-workings of the songs. I'm leaning towards not considering the studio compilations at all.
Of course, I'm open to anyone's suggestions regarding methodology.
From Hank to Hideki? I'll get back to it eventually.
The Left Field 100? Stalled at about one-third of the way to completion.
I've even struggled with getting around to my year-end compilation the past couple of years. In fact, I've handed out a grand total of three 2010 comps to friends I've actually seen since I completed the playlist in February of this year.
That one I can chalk up to life-related excuses, though. Well, I guess I can use that excuse to cover other instances of slacking off as well.
Anyway, you get what I'm driving at. But, here is one project I promise to see through to completion. It might...uh, rather, it will take a few months, but I think it's time I tackled the concept of ranking the entire Neil Young discography.
Of course, these rankings will be entirely based on my opinion rather than viewed from a critical perspective. Well, because I'm hardly a music critic. So, there may be a few unconventional choices, but so be it.
I have a dilemma, though. That is, what to do with live albums and compilations. Obviously, live records that consist of previously unreleased material, such as Rust Never Sleeps and Time Fades Away, are as much proper albums as the studio releases. Then there are the live albums that capture a single performance—Live at Massey Hall 1971 and Live at the Fillmore East, for example—which feel like more legitimate releases than live compilations such as Live Rust and Weld.
Normally, the answer to the question of what to do with compilations of studio material is an easy one. That is, don't consider them. But, of course, with Neil Young it's not so easy. Decade, for instance, while primarily including his greatest hits from 1966 to 1976, also contains the previously unreleased "Down to the Wire," "Winterlong," "Deep Forbidden Lake," "Love is a Rose" and "Campaigner." And, then there's Journey Through the Past, the soundtrack to Young's bizarre film of the same name.
So, maybe there will be a critical element to my rankings, in that I'll probably rate the live albums in terms of whether or not the concert versions do justice to the originals or in any way are compelling re-workings of the songs. I'm leaning towards not considering the studio compilations at all.
Of course, I'm open to anyone's suggestions regarding methodology.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Déjà vu All Over Again
Neil Young played in Boston last night, marking the first time he's played here since a three-night stand at the Orpheum Theatre in December of 2007. I attended one of those shows, although it didn't occur to me until now that, of the eight teams I've seen him, only two of those shows have been in Beantown. In fact, despite living here for the past 14 years, I've seen my favorite artist live just as many times in Worcester, of all places.
Last night's show was the first of two nights he'll be playing at the Citi Performing Arts Center Wang Theatre. At least, I think that's what they're officially calling it now, although Neil's joke of the night—in obvious distaste for the concept of corporate sponsorship—was that it's now called the Kellogg's Corn Flakes Center.
Young's set started off with acoustic renditions of "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)," "Tell Me Why," and "Helpless," at which point I was struck by a distinct feeling of déjà vu, and it wasn't because the latter song appeared on a CSNY album of the same name.
No, it was because Neil proceeded to perform the exact same set list at last night's show as he did the last time I saw him live, almost a year ago. OK, not exactly. The exception was that he ended things one "Heart of Gold" encore short this time.
This, of course, I considered disappointing, even though I'm a much bigger fan of the new material than I thought I would be when I heard it previewed last year. It's just that, being a huge fan of an artist with such an extensive and diverse catalog, I look forward to being surprised a few times.
Maybe I should have seen the signs coming. He brought along the same opening act—Scottish folkster Bert Jansch—and was touring entirely solo again. Maybe I was expecting too much from a 65-year old artist. I'm sure it's difficult enough re-learning songs that you haven't played in years, and it probably gets harder as an artist gets older.
So, perhaps I should have realized what was in store. Actually, I kind of did, in that I expected a similar format to last year's show. Just not an exact replica.
Regardless, Young played the material well, the venue's sound was good, and the rest of the crowd didn't really seem disappointed. But, I'm sorry to say that I was.
Last night's show was the first of two nights he'll be playing at the Citi Performing Arts Center Wang Theatre. At least, I think that's what they're officially calling it now, although Neil's joke of the night—in obvious distaste for the concept of corporate sponsorship—was that it's now called the Kellogg's Corn Flakes Center.
Young's set started off with acoustic renditions of "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)," "Tell Me Why," and "Helpless," at which point I was struck by a distinct feeling of déjà vu, and it wasn't because the latter song appeared on a CSNY album of the same name.
No, it was because Neil proceeded to perform the exact same set list at last night's show as he did the last time I saw him live, almost a year ago. OK, not exactly. The exception was that he ended things one "Heart of Gold" encore short this time.
This, of course, I considered disappointing, even though I'm a much bigger fan of the new material than I thought I would be when I heard it previewed last year. It's just that, being a huge fan of an artist with such an extensive and diverse catalog, I look forward to being surprised a few times.
Maybe I should have seen the signs coming. He brought along the same opening act—Scottish folkster Bert Jansch—and was touring entirely solo again. Maybe I was expecting too much from a 65-year old artist. I'm sure it's difficult enough re-learning songs that you haven't played in years, and it probably gets harder as an artist gets older.
So, perhaps I should have realized what was in store. Actually, I kind of did, in that I expected a similar format to last year's show. Just not an exact replica.
Regardless, Young played the material well, the venue's sound was good, and the rest of the crowd didn't really seem disappointed. But, I'm sorry to say that I was.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Twisted Road to Worcester
It seems that, whenever KJ and I travel to and from Worcester, our GPS takes us on the most circuitous routes. Worcester trips are fairly uncommon for us, of course, but Friday night our paths met up with Neil Young's Twisted Road Tour at The Hanover Theater for the Performing Arts, a somewhat recently renovated venue in Massachusetts' second-largest city.
On Twitter, a fellow beer geek recently lauded one of her friends as a master of pairing beer and music, a description said friend is yet to truly live up to, in my opinion. But, the suggestion got me thinking about this concept. Are there certain beers that would go better with certain bands?
I suppose a Belgian white or a hefeweizen would go great with a summery sounding album, and maybe a porter or a stout would go well with music that could be described as dark. Also, quite possibly beer that goes well with certain types of food could be paired with a band whose style is indigenous to the area known for that particular cuisine. So, I can see how this could work. Nevertheless, it's an angle I might be exploring in the future.
Neil Young's varied catalog would make such an exercise almost impossible, though, but since this was our night out to celebrate my recent birthday, KJ surprised me by taking me to a great place called the Armsby Abbey. Specializing in Belgian imports, this small tavern had such a diverse selection of drafts that I only recognized about one-third of the menu, one of which was the 20% ABV Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA.
I wasn't feeling up to the task of drinking a beer three times the alcohol content of what I'm used to, so I opted for one that was only twice as strong. The 13.6% Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree IPA was the closest thing on the Abbey's menu to something that sounded appropriate to consume prior to a Neil Young show. Obviously an Imperial IPA, it was good, although the alcohol seemed to sneak up on me like hard liquor, but it wasn't the best beer we tried that night.
KJ's first—and only, since she was driving—beer of the night, a Mikkeller 1000 IBU, was the best selection of all. A 9.6% Imperial IPA produced by a small brewery in Denmark, this creation has that wonderful grapefruity hops aroma and flavor that I recently discovered is my absolute favorite characteristic of the best beers of this style. Just as importantly, of course, it's very well balanced, and the fact that it's brewed by two guys—Mikkel Borg Bjergsø and Kristian Klarup Keller—who, just five years ago, were home brewers working out of their kitchen, only added to its appeal.
Legendary Scottish folkster Bert Jansch opened the show. I honestly thought he looked younger than Neil from my seat in the balcony, but it turns out he's 66, two years Young's senior. Despite his advancing years, there is no doubt he can still play the hell out of an acoustic guitar. Not being very familiar with his material, I thought his set was good, but of course, I was eagerly anticipating the headliner.
Friday was the seventh time I've seen Neil live, but this was the first occasion it was an entirely solo show. His set started out really strong, with acoustic versions of "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)," "Tell Me Why," and "Helpless" to kick things off, but that momentum quickly subsided when the next three songs were his less-than-inspiring new material.
I'm not generally one to complain about an artist playing the new stuff that I haven't heard yet, but—and it pains me to say this—Neil's songwriting abilities are clearly fading. I have friends—much tougher critics than I—who think that Greendale and Sleeps With Angels are his only worthwhile albums of the past 20 years—since Ragged Glory, that is.
Personally, I think the '90s and '00s have produced a lot of good, even great, Neil Young material in addition to those two. But, his last album—Fork in the Road—is easily his worst since the debacle that was Are You Passionate?, and my initial impression of his forthcoming material doesn't provide me with a lot of optimism.
The fact that he played his new material wasn't really my issue. However, the fact that the show was almost entirely new material and greatest hits was a bit disappointing. I guess I was hoping for a set list that included a few more "deep cuts," like his show at the Orpheum Theater that I attended back in December of 2007.
But, when it comes to concerts, you rarely get what you expect, and overall, this was still a pretty good show. The sound was excellent, and Young's somewhat unorthodox rendering of the classic "Cortez the Killer," which surprisingly didn't seem instantly recognizable to most of the crowd, was the true highlight of the performance. But, I don't think it's setting the bar too high, given that he's my favorite artist, to say I expect better than pretty good from Neil Young.
Let's hope it was just that I chose to pair the wrong beer with this style of music.
On Twitter, a fellow beer geek recently lauded one of her friends as a master of pairing beer and music, a description said friend is yet to truly live up to, in my opinion. But, the suggestion got me thinking about this concept. Are there certain beers that would go better with certain bands?
I suppose a Belgian white or a hefeweizen would go great with a summery sounding album, and maybe a porter or a stout would go well with music that could be described as dark. Also, quite possibly beer that goes well with certain types of food could be paired with a band whose style is indigenous to the area known for that particular cuisine. So, I can see how this could work. Nevertheless, it's an angle I might be exploring in the future.
Neil Young's varied catalog would make such an exercise almost impossible, though, but since this was our night out to celebrate my recent birthday, KJ surprised me by taking me to a great place called the Armsby Abbey. Specializing in Belgian imports, this small tavern had such a diverse selection of drafts that I only recognized about one-third of the menu, one of which was the 20% ABV Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA.
I wasn't feeling up to the task of drinking a beer three times the alcohol content of what I'm used to, so I opted for one that was only twice as strong. The 13.6% Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree IPA was the closest thing on the Abbey's menu to something that sounded appropriate to consume prior to a Neil Young show. Obviously an Imperial IPA, it was good, although the alcohol seemed to sneak up on me like hard liquor, but it wasn't the best beer we tried that night.
KJ's first—and only, since she was driving—beer of the night, a Mikkeller 1000 IBU, was the best selection of all. A 9.6% Imperial IPA produced by a small brewery in Denmark, this creation has that wonderful grapefruity hops aroma and flavor that I recently discovered is my absolute favorite characteristic of the best beers of this style. Just as importantly, of course, it's very well balanced, and the fact that it's brewed by two guys—Mikkel Borg Bjergsø and Kristian Klarup Keller—who, just five years ago, were home brewers working out of their kitchen, only added to its appeal.
Legendary Scottish folkster Bert Jansch opened the show. I honestly thought he looked younger than Neil from my seat in the balcony, but it turns out he's 66, two years Young's senior. Despite his advancing years, there is no doubt he can still play the hell out of an acoustic guitar. Not being very familiar with his material, I thought his set was good, but of course, I was eagerly anticipating the headliner.
Friday was the seventh time I've seen Neil live, but this was the first occasion it was an entirely solo show. His set started out really strong, with acoustic versions of "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)," "Tell Me Why," and "Helpless" to kick things off, but that momentum quickly subsided when the next three songs were his less-than-inspiring new material.
I'm not generally one to complain about an artist playing the new stuff that I haven't heard yet, but—and it pains me to say this—Neil's songwriting abilities are clearly fading. I have friends—much tougher critics than I—who think that Greendale and Sleeps With Angels are his only worthwhile albums of the past 20 years—since Ragged Glory, that is.
Personally, I think the '90s and '00s have produced a lot of good, even great, Neil Young material in addition to those two. But, his last album—Fork in the Road—is easily his worst since the debacle that was Are You Passionate?, and my initial impression of his forthcoming material doesn't provide me with a lot of optimism.
The fact that he played his new material wasn't really my issue. However, the fact that the show was almost entirely new material and greatest hits was a bit disappointing. I guess I was hoping for a set list that included a few more "deep cuts," like his show at the Orpheum Theater that I attended back in December of 2007.
But, when it comes to concerts, you rarely get what you expect, and overall, this was still a pretty good show. The sound was excellent, and Young's somewhat unorthodox rendering of the classic "Cortez the Killer," which surprisingly didn't seem instantly recognizable to most of the crowd, was the true highlight of the performance. But, I don't think it's setting the bar too high, given that he's my favorite artist, to say I expect better than pretty good from Neil Young.
Let's hope it was just that I chose to pair the wrong beer with this style of music.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Neil Young, Wilco @ DCU Center
Saturday night's Neil Young show at the DCU Center quite possibly ranks as the best concert I've ever attended that I didn't know I was going to until a couple hours prior to its start. It also ranks as one of the best Christmas gifts--presentation included--I've ever received.
My new lady friend pulled off quite the feat in getting me to head out towards Worcester with her on a late Saturday afternoon. The plan was that we were heading to dinner at an old favorite of hers, a family chain of restaurants prevalent out west, but of which there are few locations back east, none closer than a 45-minute drive from Boston. After that, we were going to check out some Christmas village to get a taste of the holiday season. Or, so I thought.
While at dinner, she said she had an early gift for me. I opened the box she handed me, and was almost speechless to find an e-mail confirmation of tickets to the show, with the words "WANT TO GO?" written on it. Do I want to go? If you don't know the answer to that question, you only have to read this to find out.
I had originally decided not to go to this show because most of my friends balked at the venue and the ticket prices, and I regretted this decision a little more each time I received an email reminder from Ticketmaster or Live Nation. So, to find out I was going to the show less than two hours prior to its start was pretty incredible.
Wilco's set was solid, as they played mostly material from Sky Blue Sky and A Ghost is Born, but the highlights were "I'm the Man Who Loves You" and "Jesus, Etc." from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Somehow, it didn't feel quite right not having them close the show with "Misunderstood", and with Jeff Tweedy belting out repeatedly, "I'd like to thank you all for nothing at all", at the end of the song. But, he probably figured that wouldn't be as well received from a crowd that probably wasn't there to see his band.
Neil started out strongly, putting the place on notice that he was there to rock, with show opening renditions of "Love and Only Love" and "Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)", before transitioning to one of my personal favorites, "Everybody Knows This is Nowhere". Speaking of which, the set also included my two favorite guitar anthems, "Cortez the Killer" and "Cowgirl in the Sand", the latter being a little less than spectacular with no Danny Whitten or Poncho Sampredo to dual it out with him.
An extended string of a couple songs from last year's Chrome Dreams II and a few from what I could only assume is a forthcoming release lost my interest briefly, but the show ended the way it started, with an audience-rousing version of "Rockin' in the Free World". An encore of "A Day in the Life" wouldn't have been my choice, but overall Neil proved himself to be as vital as ever at age 63.
My new lady friend pulled off quite the feat in getting me to head out towards Worcester with her on a late Saturday afternoon. The plan was that we were heading to dinner at an old favorite of hers, a family chain of restaurants prevalent out west, but of which there are few locations back east, none closer than a 45-minute drive from Boston. After that, we were going to check out some Christmas village to get a taste of the holiday season. Or, so I thought.
While at dinner, she said she had an early gift for me. I opened the box she handed me, and was almost speechless to find an e-mail confirmation of tickets to the show, with the words "WANT TO GO?" written on it. Do I want to go? If you don't know the answer to that question, you only have to read this to find out.
I had originally decided not to go to this show because most of my friends balked at the venue and the ticket prices, and I regretted this decision a little more each time I received an email reminder from Ticketmaster or Live Nation. So, to find out I was going to the show less than two hours prior to its start was pretty incredible.
Wilco's set was solid, as they played mostly material from Sky Blue Sky and A Ghost is Born, but the highlights were "I'm the Man Who Loves You" and "Jesus, Etc." from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Somehow, it didn't feel quite right not having them close the show with "Misunderstood", and with Jeff Tweedy belting out repeatedly, "I'd like to thank you all for nothing at all", at the end of the song. But, he probably figured that wouldn't be as well received from a crowd that probably wasn't there to see his band.
Neil started out strongly, putting the place on notice that he was there to rock, with show opening renditions of "Love and Only Love" and "Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)", before transitioning to one of my personal favorites, "Everybody Knows This is Nowhere". Speaking of which, the set also included my two favorite guitar anthems, "Cortez the Killer" and "Cowgirl in the Sand", the latter being a little less than spectacular with no Danny Whitten or Poncho Sampredo to dual it out with him.
An extended string of a couple songs from last year's Chrome Dreams II and a few from what I could only assume is a forthcoming release lost my interest briefly, but the show ended the way it started, with an audience-rousing version of "Rockin' in the Free World". An encore of "A Day in the Life" wouldn't have been my choice, but overall Neil proved himself to be as vital as ever at age 63.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Neil Young (1990)
During my late college years, I experienced a dearth of exposure to new music that really made an impression on me. I think this was basically because, for two years, I listened to nothing but Steely Dan and Emerson, Lake & Palmer, as odd a combination as that is. This downward spiral would change drastically, shortly after my graduation from college.
Somewhat surprisingly, to those who know me at all, I was a relative latecomer to the ranks of Neil Young fandom. I was a fan of the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young album Deja Vu during those lean college years, but it wasn't until I visited Joe in Hartford that I would discover the musical genius who would influence my interest in just about everything I've listened to since.
I don't know if Joe is aware that I consider him at least indirectly responsible for turning me on to Neil Young. As I was preparing to return home to Syracuse, after a weekend visit with Joe and Carol, Joe lent me a Best of Neil Young tape. I've never seen another copy of this album in existence, but you can look it up on allmusic.com (sans track list), as it was released in 1987. I listened to this tape on my drive home, and shortly thereafter, purchased Decade, the 3-record on 2-cd compilation that does a pretty good job of summarizing Neil's output from 1966 to 1976.
I wasn't exactly sure what I thought of this material at first, but it quickly grew on me. I have to admit here, that during my younger years, I absolutely hated "Sugar Mountain". I've since reconsidered, although it's still far from my favorite song. Joe, upon learning of my newfound interest in Neil, mused aloud about how cool it would be if I became as big a Neil Young fan as he was a Bob Dylan fan. I think it's safe to say that I've long since reached this level.
As I said earlier, this music would affect much of what I'd listen to later, but his biggest influence, directly and indirectly, was on my eventual and total immersion in the alt-country genre. More on that later.
I've tried, at various times, to be a Neil Young completist and own everything he's ever released. This is almost an impossible task. First of all, I'd have to settle for attempting to own every release that is attributed to him as a solo artist or a band in which he was a member (Buffalo Springfield, CSNY, w/ Crazy Horse, etc.). Otherwise, I'd have to purchase jazz bassist Rob Wasserman's Trios for the song "Easy Answers", on which Neil and Bob Weir teamed up with Wasserman. As you might imagine, owning every song that Neil Young appeared on would be impossible, so this compromise would be a necessity. Even still, this is a difficult proposition.
In the mid-90's, I began fairly successfully scouring used record stores, and purchasing copies of Time Fades Away, American Stars 'N Bars, Hawks & Doves, Re-ac-tor, Everybody's Rockin' and Trans, out of print albums that were never released on cd. At one point, I even had a Life cassette, which I think I've since lost. I was never able to find a vinyl copy of On the Beach, although Anders had one. Several years ago, after On the Beach was finally released on cd, and I found myself a used copy of Journey Through the Past, the soundtrack to a movie never made, I thought I finally had everything...not counting the fact that I didn't realize I had lost my Life cassette, and disc one of Decade.
But alas, do I need to own all the compilations too, like the aforementioned Best of Neil Young, 2004's Greatest Hits, and 2001's Mystery Train? What about the Eldorado EP and singles with otherwise unreleased b-sides? And what the hell is Where the Buffalo Roam, not to mention the completed, but never released, albums that are now kicking around on the Internet? For crissakes, I give up. Who knows, maybe one day I'll achieve this goal after all.
I feel like I should spend several days writing about Neil Young. He's now been my official favorite artist for over a decade and a half, and probably will never lose that distinction, no matter what. But, I have 26 more artists to go, and I suspect I have yet to make my last mention of Neil.
Addendum (4/24/07): When I moved to Albany in 1993, there was a recently opened brewpub in Troy named Brown & Moran's Brewing Company. This was at a time when the microbrew craze was yet to reach full effect. Scott was still living in Rochester, but Jen had already moved to Albany. That summer, she and I hung out at Brown & Moran's probably 2-3 times a week. There, we befriended a bartender named Chris, who now owns a bar around the corner from that brewpub (now just Brown's Brewing Co.), called Ryan's Wake. I visited his bar two summers ago, probably the first time I had seen Chris in 5-6 years, and we did some reminiscing about those days. He also fired up "Cortez the Killer" on the jukebox, impressively remembering my favorite Neil Young song.
During the time that Jen and I would sit at the bar and talk over many pints, another Neil Young song was becoming one of my favorites, "Ride My Llama" from Rust Never Sleeps. We would frequently discuss my dissatisfaction with my current job and my dream to go to umpire school. A lyric from that song, "I'm gonna ride my llama from Peru to Texarkana", inspired the song's title to become a metaphor for chasing your dream. I guess it had something to do with how crazy it would be to actually make that trip. So, when I told Scott and Jen that I had quit my job with Ryder to attend Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School, Jen instantly pointed out that I was riding my llama. Sounds a little odd, but to me it was inspirational.
Somewhat surprisingly, to those who know me at all, I was a relative latecomer to the ranks of Neil Young fandom. I was a fan of the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young album Deja Vu during those lean college years, but it wasn't until I visited Joe in Hartford that I would discover the musical genius who would influence my interest in just about everything I've listened to since.
I don't know if Joe is aware that I consider him at least indirectly responsible for turning me on to Neil Young. As I was preparing to return home to Syracuse, after a weekend visit with Joe and Carol, Joe lent me a Best of Neil Young tape. I've never seen another copy of this album in existence, but you can look it up on allmusic.com (sans track list), as it was released in 1987. I listened to this tape on my drive home, and shortly thereafter, purchased Decade, the 3-record on 2-cd compilation that does a pretty good job of summarizing Neil's output from 1966 to 1976.
I wasn't exactly sure what I thought of this material at first, but it quickly grew on me. I have to admit here, that during my younger years, I absolutely hated "Sugar Mountain". I've since reconsidered, although it's still far from my favorite song. Joe, upon learning of my newfound interest in Neil, mused aloud about how cool it would be if I became as big a Neil Young fan as he was a Bob Dylan fan. I think it's safe to say that I've long since reached this level.
As I said earlier, this music would affect much of what I'd listen to later, but his biggest influence, directly and indirectly, was on my eventual and total immersion in the alt-country genre. More on that later.
I've tried, at various times, to be a Neil Young completist and own everything he's ever released. This is almost an impossible task. First of all, I'd have to settle for attempting to own every release that is attributed to him as a solo artist or a band in which he was a member (Buffalo Springfield, CSNY, w/ Crazy Horse, etc.). Otherwise, I'd have to purchase jazz bassist Rob Wasserman's Trios for the song "Easy Answers", on which Neil and Bob Weir teamed up with Wasserman. As you might imagine, owning every song that Neil Young appeared on would be impossible, so this compromise would be a necessity. Even still, this is a difficult proposition.
In the mid-90's, I began fairly successfully scouring used record stores, and purchasing copies of Time Fades Away, American Stars 'N Bars, Hawks & Doves, Re-ac-tor, Everybody's Rockin' and Trans, out of print albums that were never released on cd. At one point, I even had a Life cassette, which I think I've since lost. I was never able to find a vinyl copy of On the Beach, although Anders had one. Several years ago, after On the Beach was finally released on cd, and I found myself a used copy of Journey Through the Past, the soundtrack to a movie never made, I thought I finally had everything...not counting the fact that I didn't realize I had lost my Life cassette, and disc one of Decade.
But alas, do I need to own all the compilations too, like the aforementioned Best of Neil Young, 2004's Greatest Hits, and 2001's Mystery Train? What about the Eldorado EP and singles with otherwise unreleased b-sides? And what the hell is Where the Buffalo Roam, not to mention the completed, but never released, albums that are now kicking around on the Internet? For crissakes, I give up. Who knows, maybe one day I'll achieve this goal after all.
I feel like I should spend several days writing about Neil Young. He's now been my official favorite artist for over a decade and a half, and probably will never lose that distinction, no matter what. But, I have 26 more artists to go, and I suspect I have yet to make my last mention of Neil.
Addendum (4/24/07): When I moved to Albany in 1993, there was a recently opened brewpub in Troy named Brown & Moran's Brewing Company. This was at a time when the microbrew craze was yet to reach full effect. Scott was still living in Rochester, but Jen had already moved to Albany. That summer, she and I hung out at Brown & Moran's probably 2-3 times a week. There, we befriended a bartender named Chris, who now owns a bar around the corner from that brewpub (now just Brown's Brewing Co.), called Ryan's Wake. I visited his bar two summers ago, probably the first time I had seen Chris in 5-6 years, and we did some reminiscing about those days. He also fired up "Cortez the Killer" on the jukebox, impressively remembering my favorite Neil Young song.
During the time that Jen and I would sit at the bar and talk over many pints, another Neil Young song was becoming one of my favorites, "Ride My Llama" from Rust Never Sleeps. We would frequently discuss my dissatisfaction with my current job and my dream to go to umpire school. A lyric from that song, "I'm gonna ride my llama from Peru to Texarkana", inspired the song's title to become a metaphor for chasing your dream. I guess it had something to do with how crazy it would be to actually make that trip. So, when I told Scott and Jen that I had quit my job with Ryder to attend Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School, Jen instantly pointed out that I was riding my llama. Sounds a little odd, but to me it was inspirational.
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