Damn, hippies!

CSNY, just hangin’ out by the pool with a few thousand friends. The word “incendiary” comes to mind...



Thanks to Aquarium Drunkard for digging this one up.

Old Man

Neil Young at The Wells Fargo Theater. I’ve missed a lot of Neil Young shows in my day, and for a lot of reasons. I missed a couple because I was out of town. I missed at least one because I was too poor to afford tickets. I skipped one because I was going through a stupid and short-lived “I’m so tired of Neil Young” period. And there were at least two where the scalpers got all the tickets before I could. In between, tinnitus and an aneurysm (and let’s face it, the slow march of time) threatened to end his career. But tonight, 18 years after falling in love with his music, I finally got to see Neil Young live, and it was completely worth the wait.

In six days, Young will turn 62, but you never would have known it tonight. Splitting his show into two sets (solo acoustic songs followed by electric stuff with a full band), he managed to bookend his career, mixing some new songs from Chrome Dreams II with some of his earliest work. The acoustic stuff sounded fantastic: Just Neil, switching back and forth between one of the multiple guitars he had onstage, his harmonica, and his piano. At one point, he even broke out a banjo. There were a couple songs I didn’t recognize, but the majority came from the early days. He kicked off with “From Hank to Hendrix,” from Harvest Moon, and headed backwards from there through an eleven song set, incorporating three tracks from his classic album Harvest (including the highlight to close out the acoustic set, an amazing version of “Old Man”).

After a short break, Young came back to the stage and ignored his near-senior citizen status by bringing out his band and cranking the electric, tearing through several new songs plus some old gems like “The Loner,” “Cinnamon Girl” and “Tonight’s the Night”. I was well pleased to hear some personal favorites, “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere” and “Winterlong”, and of the new stuff “Spirit Road” held up pretty well against the classics. The band, comprised of players from various stages of Young’s career, sounded really tight, and Young doesn’t appear to have lost a step either, still stomping his way around the stage during his solos.

“Old Man” and “Cinnamon Girl” alone were pretty much worth the price of admission, but for an artist who’s released so many live albums throughout his career (I can think of seven off the top of my head), I wasn’t sure Young could possibly bring anything new to some of his old favorites. Thankfully, I was wrong. I was impressed with how clear his voice was, even over all the distortion in the electric set. For a guy in his 60’s whose nickname is “Shakey,” he sounded incredible. And hearing the songs live with my own ears (as opposed to a recording) brought a whole new level of depth to each one. I picked up on some lyrics that I had never been able to make out on his recorded stuff, which is a testament both to his sound guys and to the acoustics in the Wells Fargo Theater. And I gained some new respect for a few songs like “Oh, Lonesome Me,” from After the Gold Rush, a track I usually skip over when it comes up on my iPod. After hearing it live, I’ll have to revisit it.

I’m sorry I had to wait 18 years to see Neil Young live, but I’m glad I caught him on a good night, and at a great point in his career. I would have been really bummed if I had waited that long only to find him a shadow of his former self. He may be heading into the twilight of his career, but he still puts on an incredible show. He’s become comfortable with his status as elder statesman, but not so comfortable that he’s willing to just rest on his laurels. How many other artists can say they’ve stuck to their guns and remained relevant and prolific for 40 years? At this point, when most of his still-active peers are simply cashing their checks on greatest hits tours, Young is cementing his legacy by continuing to put out albums worthy of his name that have some fire behind them. He’s not just making music to extend the brand (cough*Rolling Stones*cough), he’s doing it because he still has music to make, and that comes through in his live shows. It was clear to me last night that he still cares a lot about these songs, and I got the impression that if he ever stopped caring, he wouldn't be touring anymore. Ultimately, that passion is why people will still be listening to his music long after he’s gone. Almost 30 years ago, Young first sang, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” Happily, he no longer has to worry about either one. Which means I might actually get to see him again someday, and make up a little more for all those shows I missed.

UPDATE: Set list here.

Dead Like Me

I never really considered myself a Jim Jarmusch fan, partly I had never seen anything other than the excellent Ghost Dog, but also because his movies always seemed to be a little too much sitting-around-and-talking-about-existential-stuff for my taste. But recently, when one of my daily music blog reads, An Aquarium Drunkard, posted a few songs from Neil Young’s spooky score for Jarmusch’s 1995 film Dead Man, I decided to give more of Jarmusch’s work a shot. I’ve been on a big Neil Young kick lately anyway since I finally scored tickets to see him live, so based on the strength of what I’d heard of his soundtrack plus a vague memory of some good reviews from back when the movie was released, I was intrigued enough to add Dead Man to the top of my Netflix list.

A lot of times when I get “artsy” movies from Netflix, they”ll collect dust for days or weeks until I’m in the right mood to watch them. Today, however, I decided to watch Dead Man right away, and sometimes, it’s all about timing. Apart from a stellar cast (Johnny Depp, Lance Henriksen, John Hurt, Billy Bob Thornton, Gabriel Byrne, Alfred Molina, Crispin Glover, Robert Mitchum, and an excellent performance by Gary Farmer as the Indian named Nobody), what appealed to me was the sparseness and the “less is more” approach to Dead Man. Jarmusch shot the entire movie in black-and-white, and he captured some incredible landscapes and images as the characters travel across the West. The black-and-white was a terrific aesthetic choice, as it not only lent an Ansel Adams quality to the setting, it also brought out an impressive amount of character in the faces of the actors—there’s a reason photographers still shoot in that format. On top of the gorgeous cinematography, add a very limited amount of dialogue (something I usually appreciate when handled well) and Young’s sparse and haunting guitar, and this movie felt like a complete package. Stark but beautiful, violent but with purpose, and just a tinge depressing but in a meaningful way. I don’t know if it’s the approach of cold weather or the fact that I’m more appreciative of western landscapes now that I live out here, but every shot of dead trees and snow-covered forests hit me in the right spot. Tomorrow, I’m heading over to my local record store to see if they have the soundtrack, but based on how I feel after watching it, I might have to look for the DVD as well.