Neil Young - Chrome Dreams II

Reprise Records: 2007

I do wonder, if this may be my last Neil Young review. Like, I'll get Archives Vol. 3 whenever that comes out (surely before the heat death of the universe), but far as mainline albums go, I've gotten just about all I've ever cared to get (and then some). What's even left? His wayward '80s material? More Crazy Horse jams from the '90s? That ultra middle-of-the-road music from the turn of the century? The almost insufferably preachy albums with Promise Of The Real? Maybe at some point, I'll take a nibble - Mirror Ball's gotta' be in some used shops - but I'm in no need either. If Chrome Dreams II truly is the last time I write about a mainline album from ol' Shakey, it's a suitable bowing.

For those just tuning into this electronic music blog's inexplicable, excessive coverage of Neil Young, Chrome Dreams was a '70s album that may have gone down as an all-time classic of rock and folk music. In typical Neil fashion though, it was scuttled for something more slapdash, persistent musings of 'what if?' lingering over his catalogue ever since. When the Young team started putting together the first Archives collection, I'm sure some quips came about maybe releasing that album as once intended.

Then Neil would chuckle to himself, saying, “How about I release a sequel instead, with songs I still haven't released from back in the day?” His team would look at him, concern crossing their face, fearing what mischievous ideas Neil was cooking: “Um, how far 'back in the day', exactly?” Mr. Young's eyes sparkled. “Remember that stuff I did with the Blue Notes...?”

And so, not only did Neil unearth the live-only Ordinary People from his big-band blues period, but recorded an eighteen-minute long session of it! The song ended up being his longest track committed to disc to that point (Arc doesn't count), and wouldn't be exceeded until the uber-jams of Psychedelic Pill. I think it's cool – hearing his wild guitar distortion with a triumphant brass section is quite invigorating – but I know I'm kinda' in a minority in actually liking the Blue Notes stuff. Yes, even among Rusties.

That's the only song like that on Chrome Dreams II though, and oddly placed at track three, leaving one exhausted for the rest of the album. The ramp-up was nice, a couple country folkies including Beautiful Bluebird. A couple more country folkies follow Ordinary People, then we're into some Crazy Horse styled rawk, even if it's only Ralph Molina on hand. Dirty Old Man sounds like a dumber, drunker version of Piece Of Crap, and at over fourteen minutes in length, No Hidden Path drags some – maybe needed the proper-Horse for that one.

Some more gentle tunes round out the rest, and you have yet another Vintage Neil Young mish-mash of clashing styles album, not seen since Freedom. If only Chrome Dreams II had its own Rockin' In The Free World, it'd be a classic.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 8 - Dume (1975)

Reprise Records: 2020

So I thought I would be skipping this disc as well. I mean, just look at the cover art: it's basically Zuma all over again, and indeed, eight of that album's nine songs appear on here. Yet that's only half of the musical content contained within, the rest versions of songs that wouldn't be heard in LP form until at least Rust Never Sleeps. And even then, we get different versions here, so wholly unique items exclusive to Archives, Vol. 2. Welp, guess that settles that.

If you've been keeping up with your handy-dandy Neil Young time-line mega-diary, you'd know this was about the point where his long-time backing band of Crazy Horse finally found themselves a worthy successor to the fallen Danny Whitten. Like, don't get me wrong, Nils Lofgren was a fine stand-in for the time he was there, but the musical wonderkid was a bit too talented to be playing rhythm guitar in an unabashed, undeniably average garage rock band.

Frank “Poncho” Sampedro, however, fit perfectly snug into the roll, in large part to already being a massive fan of the group's '60s work with Neil. Intimately familiar with their classics such that he could easily jam away with Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina, all he had to do was prove himself to the mighty Young as well, which he done did while the boys partied the nights away in Malibu. Guess that's why Archives has titled this disc Dume, the name of the other cove and beach in that region. The more famous one, of course, being Zuma Beach. What, did you think the 1975 album was titled that because of something Aztecan related? Haha, who'd ever think that? *cough*

Seriously though, such a connection to Aztecs and Incans makes sense, what with Neil going off on about mystical danger birds and killer conquistadors. He may have felt a full album of such material would have been overkill though, so songs like Ride My Llama and Pocahontas got the axe in favour of more tunes about break-ups like Don't Cry No Tears and Stupid Girl. I don't know what's crazier though: that such songs wouldn't officially appear again for several years, and then only as folk versions, or that Powderfinger wouldn't either. Okay, so it wouldn't have fit on Zuma, but couldn't it have been rescued for American Stars 'n Bars? Decade? Heck, Comes A Time, if nothing else but for the LOLs?

Supposedly, such songs may have ended up on another of Neil's tantalizing lost albums, Chrome Dreams. Makes sense, between this and material in the next disc in Archives, Vol. 2 having plenty 'nuff for another LP. T'was not to be though, thus wonderful songs like Hawaii, Born To Run, Kansas, and Too Far Gone would go unheard for decades (save the odd concert bootleg). Man, guess Rusties should be thankful Ride My Llama, Pocahontas and Powderfinger only took a 'brief' half-decade to appear on Rust Never Sleeps.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 6 - The Old Homestead (1974)

Reprise Records: 2020

Despite the rather jovial start to the Tonight's The Night tour, it didn't take long for things to go just as sour as the Harvest tour. Unsurprisingly, poor ol' Shakey grew even more despondent, retreating back to the studio with some pals, took a bunch of supplements called 'honey slides' (surely up on Erowid, if you're curious), and came out with On The Beach, an album that goes about as deep into the 'ditch' as you'll ever hear. Yeah, it has some peppy tunes like the Crazy Horse regular Walk On and the 'rawker' Revolution Blues. Gads though, Motion Pictures, On The Beach, Ambulance Blues... does that poor violin ever sound like a sad, howling hound dog.

I've already covered most of this in my review of On The Beach though, so let's skip that particular disc in Archives, Vol. 2, and move onto disc number six, The Old Homestead (1974). Seems things just kept getting worse for Mr. Young, his relationship with Carrie Snodgress crumbling as well. Makes sense that he'd start writing a pile of songs dealing with his feelings on the matter, using his own studio to record acoustic versions of them. Never mind if he ever intended to release them to a wider audience, there was at least some cathartic release in performing them to an audience of a few behind a mixing board.

A handful of these songs did emerge down the line. Blues-rocker The Old Homestead cropped up on the relatively forgotten Hawks & Doves. The laid-back country vibe of Deep Forbidden Lake earned a spot on the Decade retrospective. Moody acoustic number Bad News Comes To Town got a big-band blues cover during Neil's This Note's For You period. Still, most sat in his archives, untouched, unloved, mostly hidden from the world. It's quite possible these songs cut just a bit too deep into the emotional wounds he was feeling at the time, old scars he really didn't want revisiting, much less making known to a wider audience that was already rather invasive into his erratic activities.

Which makes Neil's decision to join with Crosby, Stills & Nash again for a massive American tour all the more strange. Maybe he thought 'getting back with the boys' was what he needed to knock him out of his funk, but while he was gung-ho about it during rehearsals, he turned right back into 'The Loner' while they went out on the road. Which may have been just as well, since by all accounts, 'the Doom Tour' (as Crosby put it) was a debauchery mess, if not financially successful – performing in stadiums would do that. A couple recordings from that tour appear on this disc, but it's clear Neil doesn't want it to be a focus of this collection.

By the end of The Old Homestead, the vibe does seem to be turning around a little, some regained confidence and peppier mood permeating the final clutch of songs. Neil wasn't quite done with the tunes of relationship woes, however, piecing together what would become one of his long-lost albums...

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 4 - Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973)

Reprise Records: 2018/2020

We're entering prime 'ditch' territory here, folks.

I'm sure we all know the story up to this point now. Harvest tour, a mess. Fame and fortune, found wanting. Close friends, dying of dope overdoses. Neil, trying to deal with it all, retreated to a make-shift L.A. studio with some of his musician buddies, where they drank hard liquor and played music to their fallen comrades, resulting in the album Tonight's The Night. As Archives, Vol. 2 presents everything in chronological order, it makes sense those sessions being the third disc in the set, despite the actual album not coming out for a couple years later. I've already reviewed it though, so let's skip ahead to disc number four, Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973).

Why review a live album of songs I've already talked about? The fact this was even unearthed is a talking point, by g'ar! Despite some of these tunes becoming staples in Mr. Young's future concerts, they were all unknown to a wider public at this point. There were no lead singles, no album in support, and those who were coming in to see Neil Young in concert had to be even more confused than those who went to the Harvest shows. At least he'd still play favourites like Old Man and Heart Of Gold among the newer, unreleased ditties like Time Fades Away and Don't Be Denied. You didn't even get that with this tour. I'm sure it's exactly as Neil preferred it. Heck, I'm not even sure he intended this to turn into a tour that stretched into the U.K., the songs just a tad too intimate, personal, and raw for international audiences unfamiliar with the material.

Still, if this live set is any indication, things at least started on a positive note. The Roxy Theatre on the Sunset Strip had just re-opened under new ownership, including future label mogul David Geffen. It hadn't quite shaken off its former strip club atmosphere though, so the bluesy, down-and-out, skuzzy vibe that permeates Tonight's The Night fit snuggly with the joint. Possibly feeling inspired by the setting, Neil morphed into a caricature of the sort of Orange County (or Miami Beach) lounge lizard who'd host such an establishment. No longer the charming, folksy warbler of country-rock hits, he was a downtrodden, washed-up grease-ball only a mother could love. Andy Kaufman would have loved it, if he'd seen it.

The smaller venue also provided the perfect vibe for the music, Neil far more personable and interactive with the crowd, all the while backed by his A-team of associated musicians. Dubbed The Santa Monica Flyers, you had the remaining Crazy Horse members on rhythm, wonderkid Nils Lofgren on piano and guitar, and dependable Ben Keith on slide guitar. All had been in lock-step with these tunes since their creation, so rolled into the Roxy quite polished in performing them. And even if no one in the audience knew them, they all seemed at least hype enough being part of the Roxy's grand opening to indulge Neil's dalliance from the norm. All in all, a fun night out, this performance, even if the subject matter remains bleak as all Hell.

Neil Young with The Stray Gators - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 2 - Tuscaloosa (1973)

Reprise Records: 2019/2020

The Archives series is a continuous project, segments coming out with great frequency. In typical Neil Young fashion though, it remains an erratic one. Instead of a steady, chronological re-telling of his discography, it's made massive time-jumps with each release of the Performance Series. Confounding things further are additional items released after they should have been properly sequenced, relegating them to x.5 in their numerical order.

Example: Live At The Cellar Door, a show recorded between the Live At The Fillmore East and Live At Massey Hall sessions, is designated PS02.5. This is all very dorky, OCD-levels of going about re-issuing one's discography, but it does leave some tantalizing hints of what else might come out, especially when there's a six volume gap between Live At Massey Hall and A Treasure (the country shindiggin' tour of Old Ways).

Cagey marketing aside, there's a more practical reason why some of these archival performances come out in non-chronological order: they're harder to resuscitate than others. Or put another way, even though Tuscaloosa (1973) was always intended to be volume four of the Performance Series, getting a good remastering of those recordings was apparently a herculean effort.

This is from the Harvest tour with The Stray Gators that went down as one of the most disastrous tours from Neil's long career, one that started on a rather bleak note when their practice sessions with Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten wasn't turning out, got sent home and promptly overdosed. Those arenas were already sold out though, folks eager to hear hits like Heart Of Gold live. So hit the road Neil and the Gators did, though not before financial wrangling added even more sourness to the proceedings. Throw in Mr. Young's insistence at playing new material over Harvest songs as the tour progressed, and it lurched to an unsatisfying end once the American portion was completed, a European stretch cancelled.

As fascinating as it would be to hear those shows, Tuscaloosa wisely gives us a glimpse of the tour in its earlier days, when things hadn't quite gone to such shite. Even then, there was only so much audio they could cobble, portions of it apparently going unrecorded.

So we get a couple solo acoustic numbers to open up, then it's right into the Harvest tunes with the Gators. The opening salvo of Out On The Weekend and Harvest sound great, the live energy vastly improved over the studio versions. Old Man and Heart Of Gold are as they are, but it soon settles in that, as professional as the Gators are as a backing band, that's all they are. Neil really wants to coax a little Crazy Horse out of these Nashville pros, but it just isn't happening.

The set ends off with Don't Be Denied, somewhat of a harbinger of things to come. Neil goes autobiographical, his voice gets harrowed and raw, and the music fades away, in doing so jettisoning the traditional post-song applause of a live album, the audience disappearing before us.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 1 - Everybody's Alone (1972-1973)

Reprise Records: 2020

Aw shit, here we go again...

Like, you knew this was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Neil Young put out another Archives collection. It's why, despite the various, unearthed items that had recently come out from this period of his career, I let them pass by, fully expecting them to appear within this box-set. And for sure I'm gonna' review Every. Single. CD. that's included here, mwa-ha-hah! Okay, I'll probably skip on discs that are heavy on material from the albums I've already reviewed (Tonight's The Night, On The Beach, Zuma), because who needs redundant reviews like that? There's already ten discs on Archives Vol. 2 - gotta' cut corners wherever I can.

That all sorted? Good. Now, where were we? Ah yes, Mr. Young had just released Harvest, achieving a fame and fortune few could have dreamed of ten years deep into a music career, much less ol' Neil. In fact, he was so flustered with all the success that he kept trying to run away from it, which seemed to have the opposite effect. Part of a break-out rock band? Break away and do folksy solo stuff for a while. Get popular enough to join a super-group and play to crowds of thousands? Buy a ranch to get away from it all. Feel so inspired by your surroundings that you write some of your most heart-felt tunes yet, leading to chart topping albums and tours in sold-out arenas? Well, now things are just getting ridiculous. What must one do to get away from all this success? Drown yourself in a ditch?

That's jumping ahead a little though. Archives, Vol. 2 instead kicks things off in the immediate aftermath of Harvest. Titled Everybody's Alone (1972-1973), it's a sort of mish-mash of demo recordings and previously unreleased material of Neil trying out new and old songs with The Stray Gators, his backing band of Nashville session musicians (save an original recording of future tune Human Highway with Crosby, Stills, & Nash). Some of these would end up on the album Time Fades Away, including previously unreleased versions of The Bridge, L.A., and Time Fades Away (a right hootenanny of a tune!). In fact, I think the only tune that appears as on this disc that also does on that album is Yonder Stands The Sinner.

And you may wonder, why not just include the actual Time Fades Away songs, remastered, like as done on the previous Archives collection? To which I respond, “Have you actually heard the quality of those recordings?” They're not good, infamously recorded as performed live, with little in the way of proper studio tapes or mixing console used in the process. It remains one of the only Neil Young albums to never see an official CD re-issue, Neil either unable or unwilling to polish it for modern ears. It has finally found its way onto streaming services if you're insatiably curious, but you're probably better off with the versions as heard here.

Neil Young - After The Goldrush

Reprise Records: 1970/1993

A little unfinished business, this. I totally skipped After The Goldrush when going through my block of 'A'-titled albums, because the record was already significantly covered when I reviewed the Neil Young Archives collection. Still, I can't very well claim to have reviewed everything in my music library if I don't also do this, even if there's little more I can add. One thing did come to mind though.

In its commitment to presenting the tracklist in chronological order, the Archives collection failed to showcase one of After The Goldrush's best strengths, how each side of the record mirrored each other. A wonderful, group acoustic love song opener, followed by a reflective commentary on society, then a lovelorn ditty, a hard rocker, and finishing off with a charming doodle. Okay, Side-B doesn't quite match up, what with an extra song there, but put I Believe In You where Birds is, and it matches, mang!

That's all I got left to say. Here's what I wrote before to eat up the rest of my self-imposed word count obligation. Enjoy!

Despite taking a step back from the limelight, Neil Young once again found himself a very important person in the world of American rock. It'd only been half-a-decade since he sought music fortune in Los Angeles, and he'd accomplished more commercially and creatively than most could have ever hoped for, even for the fruitful '60s. What else could he do beyond being part of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, one of the country's most popular bands?

“How about scoring a movie?” suggested Young's Topanga neighbour Dean Stockwell. Yes, that Dean Stockwell, who'd been interested in scripting and filming a movie called After The Goldrush. It piqued ol' Shakey's interest enough to start writing a few tunes for it, and though the film never materialized, some of the intended music turned out to be some of the highlights of Young's album of the same name (Tell Me Why, After The Goldrush, Don’t Let It Bring You Down). It also sparked his creativity ever further, vivid lyrics compared to songs past, and unafraid at stretching his limited vocal range into areas yet attempted. You can really hear him crackling the high notes in After The Goldrush for the first time, exposing a naked sincerity to his music.

The other two standouts from these sessions are Southern Man (an incendiary condemnation of, well, southern redneck ‘justice’ and treatment of African-Americans) and When You Dance, I Can Really Love, capturing Young and his Crazy Horse band in full-on swagger musically. Added to the mix is seventeen year old Nils Lofgren, a budding guitarist that’d been something of an understudy to Young. In what had to been either crazy brilliant or brilliantly crazy, Neil suggested Nils play piano for these songs, an instrument lil’ Lofgren had no prior experience with. The kid fuckin’ smashed it! That’s Mr. Young for you though, so often bringing the best out of those around him.

Neil Young - A Letter Home

Reprise Records: 2014

With all the agreed-upon classics and intriguing second-tier albums already in my collection, I've grown fussier over which Neil Young projects I'm interested in laying down fresh cash for. A new album needs something unique about it if I'm gonna' check it out. Like, I have plenty 'nuff of his standard folksy-rocksy music – give me something on a conceptual level, like a mini rock opera (Greendale), or a different recording session with a famed producer (Le Noise). Playing music inside an ancient recording booth, refurbished by Jack White, as though it's a transmitter to his deceased mum? That'll do.

First, the technology. Always a hound for quirky recording equipment, Mr. White found himself a 1947 Voice-O-Graph to toy around with. For some reason, the specific year was important – maybe he saw a photo of famed blues musician inside one? Whatever the case, these units were more a novelty than anything, where you could go inside and record your very own words or music to vinyl and play back at home, kinda' like those CD booths you'd find in malls throughout the '90s. Obviously, the recording quality of these booths were rather shite, folks more pleased with just having their own material on a record than any practical use of them, though some in the army found them handy ways of sending spoken letters to family back home. Also, bootlegs, especially of banned music in communist countries.

Anyhow, Jack White got himself one (a 1947 one!), and invited Neil over to his studio to check it out. Seeing the archaic contraption got ol' Shakey's muse all a'twitter, and never one to waste a moment of inspiration, got in the booth and started recording some cover tunes. I'm not sure whether he intended the 'letter to mom' idea to be as though he was sending it to heaven, or to the past. Why not both?

And I know what you're thinking: “wait, isn't Neil Young that old coot who's always complaining about sound quality, even taking his music off streaming services because it didn't match the fidelity of his failed Pono project? Why on earth would he make a record that sounds as cruddy as this?” Ah, therein lies the trick. A Letter Home isn't about making some folk covers sound as pristine as modern production can make them, but making them sound as authentic to the recording process that was used. And if that recording process contains all manner of weird warping noises, swooshing sounds, pops and crackles, then that, by g'ar, is what you're gonna' hear.

Oh, the music? Charming, I guess, with covers from Dylan, Lightfoot, Nelson, Springsteen, and a few others I'm not familiar with. This probably would have been an utterly forgotten album were it not for the Voice-O-Graph gimmick, but it does add a strange, otherworldly vibe to the whole process. You can almost imagine this is how music would sound if you could transmit it to another plane of existence.

Green Day - Insomniac

Reprise Records: 1995

Because I know y'all are just dying to know before I get into this album, let's get my relationship with Green Day out of the way. Yes, I was age appropriate to like them when Dookie came out, and even had a mixtape with the obvious hits on it. No, it's not so surprising considering that was my lone, obligatory 'rock tape', which included such popular acts like The Offspring, Nirvana, and Beastie Boys. And when Geek Stink Breath was about to premier on MuchMusic, the hype did its job in getting me to check it out, after which I went “ewww...!” I pretty much forgot about Green Day after that, as did most of my peers. A couple dedicated souls still followed them, but most of the punk kids I knew started following the likes of Rancid, NOFX, Propagandhi, Lagwagon... basically anyone on Fat Wreck Chords. And aside from that song that everyone was surprised was a Green Day song, I ignored them until American Idiot dropped. I thought it a brilliant album, and even considered picking it up, but its lead singles became just as overplayed as the stuff from Dookie. I've since only kept tabs on their career out of continued curiosity than any interest in their music. So, y'know, a pretty typical story.

The fact that I almost bought one of Green Day's most critically hailed albums may not be that surprising, though I'm sure y'all are wondering why I now have a comparatively forgotten album of theirs. No, wait, you already know the drill – former owner offloading CDs, and I gotta' collect 'em all! Strange that he'd have Insomniac and not Dookie; did he keep a few?

Anyhow, I actually kind of like this album, more so than the agreed-upon best ones like Dookie and American Idiot. Whatever you think of Green Day overall, you cannot deny they know their way around a pop-punk riff and catchy hook, and Insomniac has several that I haven't heard in ages, don't get overplayed on classic rock stations (oh God, I so old), and don't really stay in my head afterwards. Wait, is that a good thing?

I'll never forget the video for Geek Stink Breath (ewww...!), but dang, how did I forget just how catchy the tune is? That brisk build in Panic Song reminds me of some of the best old-timey punk bands with actual talented musicians on them, and I guess Walking Contradiction is fun enough as an closer single. But yeah, hearing a bunch of unfamiliar Green Day songs is better than hearing Basket Case, Holiday, or When I Come Around for the zillionth time.

That's all I have to say about Insomniac. Most of these songs breeze by as punchy punk is want to do, and it's still a genre of music I generally don't make time for. This was a fun diversion, but not likely a CD I'll be playing again for a few years.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Zuma

Reprise Records: 1975

Sometimes the best way to get out of a depressive funk is to abandon one group of music buddies, reconvene with another group of music buddies, and hang out on the beaches of Malibu getting all up in that mid-'70s bachelor life. Lots of booze, lots of 'rawk', probably some drugs too, though none of that super-heavy shit that had been going around, leading to too many deaths of colleagues. Or maybe a little on the psychedelic bent, Zuma marking the point where Neil Young started singing about ancient Aztec and Incan lore, the sort of stuff one can't help but be inspired by after ingesting a little psilocybin. Me, I just go and listen to every album I own in alphabetical order, but if writing music about Cortez the killer and mythical lady-birds is what does it for you, have at it, guy.

Weird inspirations aside, one of the reasons Zuma came to fruition is Young's old band Crazy Horse had found themselves a new guitarist after the passing of Danny Whitten. It'd only been a few years since then, but in Neil Young terms, that's practically a lifetime, a whole stage of his career cycled through. Insisting he come and check out the dude's chops on the axe (or however you say it), Mr. Young was impressed at how well he could perform both lead and rhythm guitar parts on such classic Crazy Horse collaborations like Cowgirl In The Sand and Down By The River.

That's because this here Frank Sampedro was a huge fan of the group, often jamming away on his own to the album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. So much so, in fact, that ol' “Pedro” joked he'd probably played those songs more than Young and Whitten ever had. Feeling that familiar fire that made their earlier works such kinetic monuments to classic rock, The Young & The Restless Horse hit the studio with the same carefree approach as before, cranking out tunes about blue barstools, stupid girls, and other love-lorn chestnuts.

Aside from Cortez The Killer though (sounding kinda' short to my ears at seven-and-a half minutes, since I'm used to the live Weld version), Zuma doesn't have much in the way of classic Young material. Some good, solid rock music, for sure, a few tunes of which are little more than excuses for the band to just go off while bemoaning past relationships (as I said, a total bachelor fest). There's also Danger Bird, the closest thing to a companion piece to Cortez The Killer in its epic sense of scope, though it doesn't reach the seven minute mark, nor has been trotted out for live sessions as often, so it's unsurprising the song goes overlooked in the annals of Young et Cheval de Fou music.

Which is Zuma in a nutshell. The players involved were basically rediscovering their synergy with this outing, and would create greater works together after this.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Weld

Reprise Records: 1991

Considering the plethora of live albums Neil Young's Archives series has churned out this past decade, its difficult remembering such things were once rarities. For sure many of his albums would contain live recordings of new material, but a full live set of concert material? It wasn't until Live Rust, a companion piece to the Rust Never Sleeps tour extravaganza, that a true concert recording in conceptual full was made available for sale. Fast forward through most of the '80s that many Rusties demote as a 'lost decade', and we're right back in full rock 'n' roll glory with his Craziest of Horse pals in Ragged Glory, a raucous tour to back it up, and finally his second official live album unleashed from it.

Ol' Shakey didn't set out to prove he could stand toe-to-toe with those new, noisy 'grunge' kids, but Weld sure done does that. Unlike Live Rust, there's not a lick of acoustic music throughout the double-disc feature. Only downtime comes care of a cover of Bob Dylan's folksy ditty Blowin' In The Wind, stretched out here to nearly seven minutes, with huge walls of guitar feedback, wartime sound effects, and lovely Crazy Horse harmonies. I suppose some of Young's slower tunes might count for 'chill' music, like the bluesy Tonight's The Night, and the guitar epic Cortez The Killer, but ain't nothing calm or soothing about Neil's pained howls and cutting lyrics, much less those extended solos.

Oh yeah, you better love yourself some lengthy guitar jamming if you're interested in this live album. Absolutely you get the classics like Like A Hurricane and Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black), but as this tour was in support of Ragged Glory, most of that album's extended songs show up here too. Sweet deal for me, as they're my favourite tunes from that record! The steady burner Love To Burn, the cock-rockin' F*!#in' Up, the unabashed solo-excusing Love And Only Love, the hilariously sloppy Farmer Jon, and my guilty pleasure Mansion On A Hill. Whenever I hear this song, it instantly takes me back to early Shambhala sentiments, the lyrics eerily on point in reflecting my mind-space at the time (probably didn't hurt I was also succumbing to the Rustie Bug too).

Anything else? How about some good ol' rockin' out with over nine minutes of Rockin' In The Free World? Or solid common-clay story-telling with Powerderfinger and Crime In The City? A couple throwback jams with Cinnamon Girl and Roll Another Number (For The Road)? Okay, maybe not that one, but it's a charming tune to end a concert on. Drive safe, y'all.

Weld is pretty much wall-to-wall guitar glory, performed by a bunch of middle-aged men who were inspiring all the youngin's of rock's new '90s world (Sonic Youth opened for them on this tour). And hey, if we didn't get Weld, then Young wouldn't have wrecked his hearing so bad that he was forced to follow it with another classic in Harvest Moon.

Neil Young - Unplugged

Reprise Records: 1993

Oh hey, Neil. Sure don’t talk about you as often these days, do I? I’ve gone through nearly every album I own of yours now, is why, a smattering of stragglers all that’s left in my collection. Maybe I’ll beef it up some more down the line, but honestly, twenty-five albums from a single artist is quite a bit for any fan of a musician. I’m not sure how hardcore followers of Frank Zappa or Merzbow survive without going insane.

And strangely, what I’m reviewing today is only partially a Neil Young album. This particular live performance was produced in conjunction with MTV Unplugged, the Grammy winning series that featured famous musicians playing acoustic concerts, often emphasizing those with careers defined by loud rock or synthy pop (and a little rap on the side). The series first started in 1989, with acts like Aerosmith, Elton John, Paul McCartney, Stevie Ray Vaughan, R.E.M., The Cure, and, um, Ratt, all scoring gigs. Things rapidly changed for MTV Unplugged though, when Eric Clapton scored a huge commercial and critical hit with his 1992 effort, the series suddenly propelled into the spotlight as an outlet for all manner of musicians looking for a little extra prestige in their resumes. The series’ reputation only solidified when Nirvana did their acoustic performance twenty-two months later. Between those two critical peaks in MTV Unplugged’s legacy, ol’ Shakey did an unplugged set of his own.

Already a darling with the MTV sect, the Godfather Of Grunge was an obvious choice for this concert concept. What joy could we have hearing stripped-down renditions of such classic rockers like Cinnamon Girl, Cowgirl In The Sand, and Like A Hurricane. Or even newer classics like Rockin’ In The Free World, This Note’s For You, and Harvest Moon. Wait, that one’s already rather acoustic to begin with. In fact, three tracks from that ultra-mellow album appear on Unplugged, plus a number of older folksy material too. There’s Pocahontas, The Needle And The Damage Done, Long May You Run, Helpless, and Look Out For My Love. Basically half of this live acoustic album features songs that were already acoustic in the first place. Eh, well, it’s nonetheless amusing that he’d play them for the MTV generation.

Still, the ‘unplugged’ renditions of the other tunes are worth the listen in. For instance, Transformer Man is on here! Yeah, didn’t think ol’ Shakey would ever dust off that synth-pop tune, much less for an acoustic version. The guitar epic Like A Hurricane does appear here, but performed solo on a pump organ, of all things (think mini pipe organ) – though really, it’s about the only ‘acoustic’ instrument that could capture the same grandeur as the original. A couple other way-oldies in rocker Mr. Soul and the originally over-dubbed The Old Laughing Lady also feature, plus an unreleased song in Stringman from the original Chrome Dreams sessions. Guess that about covers it for your typically esoteric Neil Young concert track list. Only thing missing would be something from Old Ways.

Neil Young - Blue Note Café

Reprise Records: 2015

While the idea of Neil Young becoming a Chicago bluesman named Shakey Deal, supported by a nine-piece band called The Blue Notes, has some intrigue behind it, I wasn’t itching to hear the results. If anything, the controversy surrounding the project’s lead single, This Note’s For You, was far more fascinating, for the video was initially banned from MTV. Whoa, what hardcore content could have been within that made the supposed edgy music station so worrisome? Potentially pissing off corporate sponsors was all, but considering the video featured a Michael Jackson stand-in catching fire, you can bet the estate that helped build the station’s rep would get a might bit ticked. And yet, This Note’s For You won MTV’s Best Video Award that same year. Irony!

A good ol’ Young controversy is always worth checking out the associated material, but an album of modern blues rock wasn’t the most appealing. For one, studio recordings of the stuff seldom did the genre favors, especially with ‘80s production standards. Plus, this felt a bit of a bandwagon jump, this sort of music gaining traction with lots of rockers of the era. Well fool me on that one, the truth a simpler story. Yeah, big musicians like Eric Clapton and U2 were searching for the ‘roots’ of their music in America, and everyone celebrated Stevie Ray Vaughn’s return to grace, but beyond that? Nay, big band blues revival no more significant in the late ‘80s than before the sound’s resurgence at the start of that decade (re: The Powder Blues). Young’s dalliance with a backing brass band was just that, a spurt of inspiration he was quick to capture, then just as quickly move on once the tour was done. It's why beyond the titular single and maybe Ten Men Workin’, no one remembers much from the resultant album. Most of the tunes were hastily slapped together, basic songs that his band could riff over to their heart’s content – typical Neil Young, then.

Still, it was enough for many ace nights on the tour. A live album was even initially planned, but since the album proper didn’t sell that well, it was shelved, Young moving onto better things (like Rockin’ In the Free World). That didn’t stop a plethora of bootlegs from hitting the market though, especially for the die-hard collector as the tour yielded a bevy of new, unreleased material. Some of it occasionally sprinkled out over the years, including the epic Ordinary People two decades after the fact, but most figured these recordings were forever lost. Praise be unto thee, Archives Project!

Two CDs of various gigs stitched together is overkill, but damn if there isn’t tons of great music within. So many unearthed gems (Don’t Take Your Love Away From Me, Bad News Comes To Town, Doghouse), epic takes on classics (Tonight’s The Night, Crime In The City, Ordinary People), and all the bluesy guitar solos you can handle. A lot of trumpet and saxophone too, if that’s your jam.

Neil Young - Tonight's The Night

Reprise Records: 1975

This is Neil Young dead centre in the ditch; or the middle album of his acclaimed Ditch Trilogy. Though released as the third album of the three, it was recorded between the live Time Fades Away and comedown blues of On The Beach. It also features one of his most ragged collections of tunes ever, perhaps only topped by the impossibly fun-n-sloppy Re-Ac-Ter down the road. This was seen as a revelation for many a critic, a resounding triumph of back-to-basics grubby rock by one of the scene’s veterans, delivered at a time when many rockers had grown fat and content on their earlier commercial successes. Not this Young fellah’ though! He saw that fame, lived that dream, got all that paper, bought that ranch, and got super-depressed over it, beating Roger Waters’ infamous crisis of faith by a few years.

Naturally, none of this was planned on Young’s part. Rather, compounding issues like testy tours, fears of creative stagnation, and dying friends all led to Tonight’s The Night. As the story goes, the double-whammy drug deaths of Crazy Horse leader Danny Whitten and roadie pal Bruce Berry got Neil off the road and seeking some good ol’ camaraderie from his closest musical friends. No, not Crosby, Stills and Nash, the ‘supergroup’ still in a state of mutual ‘frenemy’ flux. Rather, he hooked back up with the remaining Crazy Horse members, plus wonderkid guitarist Nils Lofgren, Harvest’s ace pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith, and producer pal Jack Nitzsche for a session at brother-of-Bruce's ramshackle studio. An all-star line-up of Young’s ‘raw’ repertoire, then!

They basically all got drunk, got stoned, played billiards, and played music late into the night, their recording time an extended wake for their departed comrades. Music quite literally about Bruce Berry the man (Tonight’s The Night), about the pitfalls of the druggie lifestyle (Speakin’ Out, Tired Eyes, Lookout Joe), some lighter moments (Roll Another Number), but generally everything just going to shit (World On A String, Albuquerque, Mellow My Mind). Tunes mostly stick to stoner blues, though with a little rock and country thrown in for good measure.

It’s also very unpolished material, about as ‘live’ sounding as a studio session can get, and hardly of quality label heads figured someone with Young’s fame could conceivably want out on the market. Following the equally unprofessional and commercial letdown that was Time Fades Away, you bet Reprise Records was leery about releasing this album as was. Another contentious tour playing the album in its entirety, well before any singles or records were pressed, only made frustrated fans more irate with Young’s increasingly agitating antics. Tonight’s The Night was thus shelved, perhaps indefinitely, yet another ‘lost classic’ in the annals of rock history.

Then, a couple years later, while going through some demos of new material, Young played the Tonight’s The Night sessions as a point of comparison. He instantly thought, “Hey, this is some raw, real stuff. Let’s go with this instead.” And he done did.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Sleeps With Angels

Reprise Records: 1994

Sleeps With Angels is one of the best albums Neil Young and his Crazy Horse ever put out, yet hardly gets mentioned in discussion. True, some of their other records had more impact on rock’s landscape – no one's taking away classics like Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and Rust Never Sleeps. This one though, note for note, chord for chord, guitar for piano, drum for flute, distortion for melody, Sleeps With Angels is a beautiful album. Not because it paints a pretty picture, oh no! These are some incredibly bleak songs, topics of death, decay, and depression all presented in as grungy a way as blues rock can go. There's something captivating about all this misery though, like scenes out of an art-house film without the pretentious waffle that comes with it.

For instance, the criminally overlooked song Driveby, which deals with drive-by shootings and the tragedy they so often create. Young doesn't preach, laying out one senseless scenario after the other, the music he and Crazy Horse provide marching at a sombrely pace as though they're funeral pall-bearers. Their harmonized chorus, simply the title of the track, is such a heart-breaker, you wonder if the band themselves suffered a drive-by death in the family.

And so much of Sleeps With Angels is like this. Prime Of Life details the insidious nature of tabloid magazines ruining the Royal Family, the titular cut touches on Kurt Cobain's suicide with distortion dragged through the ugliest gravel pit, Western Hero forlornly recalls past glories of an old cowboy, Trans Am forlornly recalls past glories of a Trans Am, Safeway Cart paints a portrait of ghetto decay, and the epic fourteen minute long Change Your Mind tries consoling with extreme depression, wary of the spectre of suicide ever lurking in the shadows. My God, it wasn't that many years prior Young gave the world the sentimental Harvest Moon, much less teaming up with The Horse on the free-wheeling Ragged Glory. Even the one 'cock rocker' on here, the hilarious Piece Of Crap, rants on about disposable consumerist junk. What made them turn so dour? '90s, man, f’n '90s.

I wonder if that’s why Sleeps With Angels doesn’t receive the same Boomer plaudits as Young’s older work. The songcraft is all here, Neil & Crazy as tight-knit yet wonderfully loose of a unit during their ‘90s resurgence, but older folks just don’t talk it up much. Are the topics too touchy for his traditional audience, a sense of all the things that generation had worked for run ragged and cast aside by Gen-X’s emergence upon adulthood? Figures Young found a common link between the two with his music, the grunge aesthetic he helped pioneer turned into musings on the state of the nation. Its topics the adults could relate to, but wrapped in a package appealing to the teens, and all the more brilliant for it. Sadly, that also lands Sleeps With Angels in a nowhere land between disparate music scenes, often neglected by both.

Filter - Short Bus

Reprise Records: 1995

It’s been a long while since I dealt with any of Ishkur’s old CDs. Okay, there’s been a scattered few that had actual ‘techno’ on it (win an Ishkur t-shirt if you guess which ones!), but nada from his pre-rave days. I bring this up because it’s the only reason why I’m reviewing Filter’s debut album today. Obviously I’d never have bought this for myself, though the possibility of it being a gift from an aunt always lingered. Seemed every guy I knew who had some hard rock or alternative rock or industrial rock collection had Short Bus in their CD pile. You couldn’t escape it, even in store shelves long after Filter had faded from public discourse. You’d spot it in ‘90s rock retrospectives, the cover art distinct and memorable. Yet, beyond one major track, does anyone recall any of the tunes off this? I sure don’t.

Yeah, yeah, not like I should know of Filter’s work, since their music scene was well outside my interest. Hear their music I did though, primarily because their brand of Nine Inch Nails metal made for ample edgy soundtrack fodder. In fact, they were tapped for the lead single off Spawn, collaborating with The Crystal Method on (Can’t You) Trip Like I Do. Right, ‘collaborating’ is used very loosely here – more like sang over an existing Crystal Method cut, but Spawn was one big ‘yawn’ anyway, amirite?

Point being, Filter’s the sort of alternative rock one easily identifies with a specific era of music. That post Trent Reznor, pre Limp Bizkit sweet spot of aggressive distortion, angst-filled singing, yet just enough strength of songcraft to take it seriously enough. Like I said, perfect for goth-inspired movies such as The Crow, Demon Knight, Valentine, The X-Files, 3000 Miles To Graceland (huh?), The Cable Guy (wait), and Little Knicky (oh come on).

Short Bus, then. I guess it’s good. Hey Man, Nice Shot, the opener tune about R. Budd Dwyer’s suicide, I most certainly have heard, because that song was on nearly every alt-metal compilation you could think of. MTV Buzz Bin, Family Values Tour 1999, Freedom Sucks Vol. 2, The Next Generation, Absolute 90’s, plus a number of those soundtracks listed above. Most of the tunes off Short Bus sound like it, some a little sludgier, some a little brisker, all heavy with distortion and shouty lyrics. I’d make a quip about how all industrial metal sounds the same, but Nine Inch Nails sounds pretty different song to song, and it’s not like ninety-percent of techno isn’t recyclable either. One thing I do like is the requisite acoustic tunes (Stuck In Here, So Cool) have a neat bit of distortion fuzz playing in the background. Like, some sort of sonic sift or sieve.

For as hopelessly ‘90s as Filter come across, they’ve managed a career lasting to this date. Good for them, I say, though one ride on the Short Bus is all I need for my Filter fix.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Rust Never Sleeps

Reprise Records: 1979/1990

The only Neil Young Comeback Album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Neil Young Comeback Albums. Yes, he's had enough of them to count as their own, distinct branch in the massive tree that is Rusty's discography. They're not so definitive as before, his career lately seeing more ebb and flow rather than peaks and valleys of decades pasts. For a brief while there in the '70s though, it looked as though Young would never recapture the creative spark that marked his early material.

Not that he was in a serious slump leading up to this album – certainly nothing that could rival the true dark times of the mid-‘80s. Unfortunately, following his critically lauded “Ditch Trilogy”, Young was in danger of succumbing to a terrible thing for any popular musician: irrelevancy. His album output had turned sketchy, failing to grab fresh audiences as new trends took hold of public discourse in the late ‘70s. Thus, like most rockers of the ‘60s, he was left with only two options. One: double-down on the music that earned him his dedicated following, and retain his loyal fans but risk creative stagnation. Two: attempt a bandwagon jump, keeping one’s name with the pace of cultural movements, but almost certainly make an ass of yourself in the process; a desperate bid at remaining relevant. Naturally, Neil F’n Young chose option number Three: cater to the faithful, and successfully tap into a new rock zeitgeist.

The inspiration came with a concept tour, one that would encompass two performances on stage. The first half would be primarily a solo outing of him playing acoustic folk material (with a duet thrown in here and there), then Crazy Horse would join him for some rock ‘n’ roll ruckus. He’d play some old standards, but mostly new material (from which this album’s track list was culled). The stage itself had giant-sized props of gear, handled by roadies dressed in Jawa costumes, and encourage audience interaction by donning faux 3D glasses, witnessing the band “decay before their very eyes”. It was the most theatrical set of concerts Young had ever put on, in some small part inspired by his wacky chums over at the Devo camp. In truth, they came up with the phrase “rust never sleeps” for a cleaner solution advertisement. Figures Young would take it as representing the dangers of artistic decay.

The folk numbers become some of Rustie’s enduring classics, a critical look back on his musical compatriots in Thrashers, and more stands for Native American tragedies in Pocahontas and Ride My Llama. Where he truly made a mark though, was Hey Hey, My My, a thunderous blast of distortion and noise that put his generation of rockers on notice: punk music was the real deal, a force that could not be ignored. Time to adapt, or unceremoniously fade as the old King Of Rock, Elvis Presley, had so recently. Some serious shots fired there, and pay attention the rock world did.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - re-ac-tor

Reprise Records: 1981/2003

Just how sloppy and loose can a band go before it turns unacceptable? For that authentic scrappy, bar-blues rock played out of downtown dive garage feeling (or something), folks often gives a little on the technical side. Where Mr. Young and his band-of-brothers Crazy Horse are concerned, listeners wouldn’t have it any other way, their freewheeling approach to music making part and partial of their charm. It’s given them the leeway to go into albums with barely any prep and only the most tenuous of themes: Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is about capturing fresh band synergy at its source of inspiration; Ragged Glory is about re-capturing that same spark long after it should have expired; Psychedelic Pill is about re-re-capturing that spark even as grandpas.

Those are just the albums I’ve thus far reviewed though (wow, what a weird thematic coincidence), and the group’s done other material with a different focus. In the case of re-ac-tor, Neil had to fulfill his album obligation to Reprise Records before getting a sweet deal from Geffen, and slapped out a sloppy collection of Crazy Horse jams to do so. Okay, that’s not entirely accurate, but given the utter lack of finesse in many of these songs, it makes for a juicy bit of suppositional gossip taking that stance.

The truth is a little more nuanced, Neil’s personal life growing incredibly stressful and in need of some changes. That he’d miss some creative fire or not have time for proper rehearsals with Crazy Horse is understandable in that context, but one must ask why force an album if he’s not quite feeling it? Songs like Get Back On It, Motor City, and Rapid Transit are some of the goofiest, simplest examples of southern rock I’ve ever heard, while T-Bone is nothing more a drunken three-chord jam that lasts nine minutes! Still, if you’re a fan of Young and Horse, it’s an awesome drunken three-chord jam session, but you’d hardly want to show it off to others as the group at their best.

And hey, Young always finds ways of crafting catchy, compelling music even on his off years. Southern Pacific is a charming ode to the once-mighty rail industry, with a suitably chugging rhythm and, dare I say, picturesque lyrics (plus was packaged as a bizarre triangular gatefold 7” single). Shots is also vivid, though with such ugly and messy manner with blown chords, out-of-sync rhythm, and nasty distortion, the sloppy production of re-ac-tor actually makes sense in this case. Finally, Opera Star and Surfer Joe And Moe The Sleaze are fun little bar rock tunes, probably also performed while intoxicated.

That’s about the strongest endorsement for this album I can give: best enjoyed drunk. Neil And His Wacky Horses have stronger LPs in their discography, some dynamic, others somber - this one’s about as half-assed as you’ll ever hear the group, but perhaps one of the funnest too. Screw you, SpellCheck, I cans sloopy grammar alls I wants to for re-ac-tor.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Ragged Glory

Reprise Records: 1990

This album took me from “Yeah, Neil Young's got some nice music, I guess.” to “Neil is God!” That might not be as impressive as it seems, despite Ragged Glory being the second record I picked up from Mr. Shakey (and first with the Crazy Horses). Had I nabbed one of his early efforts like Rust Never Sleeps or After The Goldrush before this, it’s probable I'd fall sway to his musical allure just the same. I can't even remember why I took the plunge on this one in particular, since all I really knew of his output was the Harvest Moon folksy material (Rockin' In The Free World notwithstanding). I'd heard good things about Ragged Glory, sure, but nothing that suggested it was a life-changing album or the like. Took that plunge I did though, after which I was compelled to consume all that Mr. Young had released. Fortunately for my bank account, the country hoe-down Old Ways was my follow-up, quickly instilling some caution in any further explorations of Neil's discography.

For all intents, there isn't anything about Ragged Glory that should have had the impact on me that it did. It’s a great rock album, no doubt, but it’s not reinventing the wheel or leading the charge of a new, unique scene. The music is catchy and unchallenging, with guitar riffs going down easy and sweet vocal harmonies that’ll lodge themselves in your brain without ever overstaying their welcome. The lyrics have little nuggets of aging wisdom about them (or, in the case of Farmer John, are just sloppy good fun), though seem written as mere service to the music performed. At most, Ragged Glory serves as a definitive statement for aging rockers that one not need fade away like so much bad ‘80s hair. Unlike many of his fellow ‘60s and ‘70s alum, he found kinship with the new generation of alt-rock and grunge bands emerging from the underground, and was fearless in joining their ranks. If his prior album Freedom was a rebirth of sorts, then Ragged Glory finds Neil full of fire and flying high above his contemporaries.

I can’t say any of you will have the same notions about this album should you hear it, especially as you’re reading this on an electronic music blog (mang, crunchy guitar solos are totally electronic!). I guess in my case, Ragged Glory represented the sort of rock that I always imagined rock music should sound like, but seldom heard performed. Believe me, with all the garage bands I’ve been exposed to over the years, none had such a rugged edge while retaining bar-blues affability and dismissing arrogant posturing. Young’s solos here are wild and messy, yet I hang on each chord, eagerly anticipating which unpredictable direction he’ll go in next, always reassured he’ll find his way back to Crazy Horse’s steadying rhythm. I imagine, had I heard Ragged Glory before ‘techno’ seduced me, I’d have picked up that damn guitar like my old man always hoped I would.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Psychedelic Pill

Reprise Records: 2012

As I’ve repeated endlessly, Neil Young, restless muse that he is, never fears exploring musical genres. Whether it be blues, synth-pop, hillbilly ho-down, guitar drone, gospel, or something totally made-up for a single song that one time (probably), his discography is littered with curious cul-de-sacs jutting off from his rock and folk thoroughfares. However, Young’s most utterly bizarre detour has to be this double-album of psy trance. Not that he wouldn’t want to try his hand at something electronic again, but aside from the shared hippie lineage, this is so outside Young’s traditional sound that- What do you mean Psychedelic Pill isn’t psy trance? This is Psy Trance Week, isn’t it? What’s this album doing here then? Curse ye’, alphabetical stipulation – you gummed up another theme week!

So what we don't have here is Neil Young and his Crazy Horse band doing psy trance; rather, it's the dynamic foursome going back to their grungy rock roots and indulging themselves for obscene lengths of time. One track hits the nine minute mark, two more breach sixteen, and the opener Driftin' Back lasts a whopping twenty-seven minutes, officially become the longest song Young's ever recorded. And it's fucking awesome! Psychedelic Pill is the NYCH album fans had been hoping on for years, at least since their last good run in the mid-'90s. We always knew the group had it in them to absolutely tear through some new guitar epics, their occasional live shows more than enough proof. Who cares if the lyrics are some of the simplest, mundane things Young’s ever sung - that didn’t stop the ridiculous T-Bone from way back being good stupid fun. Besides, this is all about the wonderful, crunchy distortion and impeccable synergy between these musicians. They may not be as ‘locked in’ as their older classics, but Ramada Inn, She’s Always Dancing, and Walk Like A Giant are as fun of musical rides as you can expect from Young & Horse.

And of course you don’t really care that much. Okay, maybe you do, if you’ve read this far, but more so than most Neil Young albums I’ve reviewed, Psychedelic Pill’s a hard sell. Walk Like A Giant and She’s Always Dancing have lovely harmonizing vocals, and Ramada Inn features as catchy a bar rock hook as you’ll ever hear, yet are surrounded by so much jamming, it’ll try the patience of all but the most ardent rock fans out there. And unfortunately, the few shorter tunes littered about this double-LP aren’t much to get fussed over (the titular cut’s got some cool flanging effects going for it though), especially when overshadowed by the behemoth songs. Also, are we really all that interested in Young reminiscing about the days of old again? No, can’t say that we are.

Damn it though, I can’t get enough of Young and Crazy Horse’s epic, sloppy rock. Only get Psychedelic Pill after you’ve been bitten by the Rusty bug. Once you have, come on in for the chemical-enhanced treat!