Thursday, 9 September 2010

NEIL YOUNG WITH CRAZY HORSE – EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHERE (REPRISE)


NEIL YOUNG WITH CRAZY HORSE – EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHERE (REPRISE)

With a full band now in tow Neil Young’s second “solo” album is immediately a much different proposition to its predecessor.  Emerging in the spring of 1969 by nature of the times it appears to be the work of a person trying to hold onto the high times of the recent past while also being resigned to where and how things were changing all around.  It comes as no surprise that as a result there is a downbeat yearn attached to proceedings with a man very much in transition.

And the process was not necessarily smooth as Young worked against a fever writing three of the songs from his sickbed.  One of those songs was “Cinnamon Girl” which with its subtle fuzz and distortion became the first example of his new style of heavy playing, not that it was necessarily at the forefront of this album.  It is an immediate classic with its optimistic gestures combining with a crunching riff introducing the hook and chorus.  It is the sound of a content musician.

The other towering track and achievement is the nine minute “Down By The River” that glides and goes on a genuine journey.  Another song written by Young while fevered (the third track being “Cowgirl In The Sand”) it’s an epic recollection of a share moment gone wrong.  Perhaps not as fatal as the surface level lyrics suggest it does exude a sadness that is undeniable and clear.

For me there seems quite division in style and direction with the songwriting.  “Cowgirl In The Sand” is closer to “Down By The River” than any of the other tracks around it.  A warm fuzz blesses the ground on which Young performs on such selected occasions.

Personally I find this record hit and miss.  Universally lauded, personally there are some songs amongst the seven that make me cringe.  I realise the rock and power is in the words but tracks such as “Running Dry (Requiem For The Rockets)” and “The Losing End (You’re On)” just prompt me to blush when played on my stereo.  Country rock will forever be a curious species to me, an over earnest animal lacking surface intellect.  It’s the music of your parents on autopilot.  Country is not the white man blues.

It’s half an album.

Thesaurus moment: bisection.

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