Dead Melodies - Fabled Machines Of Old

Cryo Chamber: 2021

I haven't been back to Tom Moore's project for a while, and it's not for a lack of interest. Okay, maybe a little, his albums seemingly often getting into territory Atrium Carceri treads, mostly explorations of old civilizations and such. Which hey, I'm down for on occasion, but I tend to favour such sojourns when we're seeing some future-tech involved as well, which is why Sabled Sun hits my sweet spot more than Simon Heath's other works. Dead Melodies doesn't really go that way though, so you understand why half a decade passed before I wanted to check out another album from him.

Check that. Less than a year went by from when I reviewed Primal Destinations and this one dropped, but it was a long while before I went back to the Cryo Chamber fold. As for why this one, well, just look at the cover. Now that's some future-tech I can get behind! What even are those? Marauding machinery? Wandering harvesters?

Whatever the case, my mind is already aflutter with images of trekking through rural environments long abandoned by whatever advanced peoples lived there. Or maybe they're still functioning, relentlessly going about their business unknowing and uncaring of what their purpose once was, only content that they can continue doing it until the gears of their machinery finally give in to entropy. Makes me wonder if the bots and A.I. flooding our social medias will continue shit-talking to each other long after we've gone the way of the dodo, a forever flamewar for no future.

Anyhow, there's a lot more acoustic guitar strumming in Fabled Machines Of Old compared to the other Dead Melodies albums I covered. There were some melodic elements in those records, true, but Tom was more focused on the cinematic drone aspects of his compositions there. When a piece like Nightrunners features field recordings of crackling fire while a guitar gently plays with orchestral swells in support, you really get a sense of being out and about wandering woods and traversing fields. Preferably at night, when said fabled machines of old won't so easily detect you.

Speaking of, Simon does pop up as Atrium Carceri for a couple tracks, lending some industrial clank and grind to the decaying pastoral setting, a 'comforting' reminder of the menace lurking about. As if that wasn't enough, Northumbria drops in On Crimson Water for a little layered, atonal, wall-of-noise string action, as if things weren't bleak enough. Mostly though, its Dead Melodies' show, flitting between sombre reflective moods, tranquil field recordings, ominous drones, and, as a gentle reminder of the humanity remains, post-rock guitar ambience.

Not the most uplifting album, then. Sometimes though, its the small things that can keep the spirit afloat, and Fabled Machines Of Old excels in finding those in its repeated return to a simple guitar strum. A lone soul of humanity standing firm in the face of mechanisms running unattended and amok. Oh yeah, that's those Sabled Sun feels.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 10 - Odeon Budokan (1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

What a strange way to end Archives, Vol. 2. True, nothing could beat the triumphant cap of Vol. 1 that included all the chart-topping and critically lauded Harvest material, but a live album? And not just a live album, but recordings from overseas shows in London and Tokyo? I guess in keeping with the 'three Performance Series per Archives' theme, we'd get one exclusive to the box-set like Live At The Riverboat. This wasn't separately released prior, and I see no official plans to do so after.

If the timeline is to be believed, these shows were performed after Neil had joined Stephen Stills in Miami for their Stills-Young Band sessions, but before abandoning Crazy Horse to tour with Stephen instead. So in the course of a couple months, ol' Shakey had travelled from California, to Florida, to Japan, to the U.K. and back to Florida. Long may you run indeed, but not if you're gonna' burn both ends while burning your friends along the way.

As this disc is a cobble-lation of two shows performed literally half a world apart, it's appropriately broken up between the two. Oddly, they're not in chronological order, the London shows first, followed by the Tokyo jams after. My only assumption here is Odeon Budokan wants to recapture the same sequencing as Rust Never Sleeps, acoustic numbers opening the LP, then closing out with Crazy Horse 'rawkers'. To be fair, that's how Neil's concerts with Crazy Horse went regardless, I just have no idea why all the acoustic material comes from Odeon, and all the rock from Budokan. Just a happenstance of where the better recordings were?

So the acoustic set has some familiar tunes (Old Man, The Old Laughing Lady, After The Goldrush ...I'm honestly quite burnt out hearing that one on these live albums), plus a couple then-unreleased songs in Too Far Gone and Stringman. What's funny about these is you can really tell the unfamiliarity of them with the London crowd. Exuberant cheers upon hearing the first notes of the recognizable songs, then almost dead silence with the other two, save a polite applause after they're finished. Considering they wouldn't be officially released until way later, I'm sure Neil got a kick out of confusing the casuals in the crowd with them.

I'm not sure how familiar the Japanese crowd was with the freshly released Zuma record either, but they seemed to enjoy the rowdy rockers just the same. They also get a version of Cowgirl In The Sand, which isn't quite up to the epic outing as heard on Live At The Fillmore East, nor as tight as heard in later live albums with Crazy Horse. It was Frank Sampedro's earliest concerts with the group though, so just needed a little more time to fully mesh. Either that, or this was one of the supposed shows he'd taken acid at. Oh, hippie-rockers, never change.

And that's a wrap on Archives, Vol. 2! Join me again for Archives, Vol. 3, due for release ...whenever it gets released, I guess.

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...

Emiliana Torrini - Love In The Time Of Science

Virgin: 1999

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I don't know much about Emiliana Torrini, but I've apparently heard her a couple times without realizing it. The most prominent example I've noticed in her 'Top Spotify Tracks' list is Gollum's Song, the closing credits theme to Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers. Now, even though I didn't get the soundtracks for those films (as lush as they are), I know I've heard that song in full, as I've watched the end credits all the way through, and the extended editions! If nothing else than for the lovely sketch artwork included during the runtime. Or simple movie viewing inertia. Gotta'... see... to... the... END!

More than that though, I know I've heard Ms. Torrini as far back as this particular album, even though I didn't know it at the time – probably thought the song a Björk tune when I heard it (not without good reason to, more on which in a bit). I am, of course, talking about Summerbre- No, just kidding, it's Wednesday's Child, which is baffling to me because, according to Lord Discogs, there's almost no way I could have heard it so prominently. The album it came from, Love In The Time Of Science, had sprung half a dozen singles, not one of which was this particular tune. Yet, the gentle organ chords, orchestral swells, the lyrics in the chorus, the “ba-ba-ba ba, ba-ba-ba baaa” bridge... I know I've heard it before, and frequently, as though it was a minor radio hit back in the day. How? Where? Why??

Emiliana Torrini had released a few albums in her native Iceland prior to Love In The Time Of Science, plus provided vocals for GusGus, but for all intents this was her debut to a wider audience. Being that she hailed from the same country as Björk, and was signed to the same label as Björk, One Little Indian, it's not surprising that this album feels like her producers were trying to mould Ms. Torrini into a similar star. Especially as Björk had grown a tad too esoteric for pop radio by decade's end. Don't worry, folks, here's another Icelandic chanteuse doing singer-songwriter trip-hop! Not sure those were shoes Emiliana was eager to wear, especially as her following body of work generally steered further way from the trip-hop as heard here. Plenty of guest features and writing credits in that wake though.

The '90s certainly drip in Love In The Name Of Science, if that's any way to describe an album of singer-songwriter trip-hop. It sometimes comes off a little over-produced for the simple, intimate nature of the lyrics, though I never feel Emiliana is overshadowed by the orchestral flourishes or wall-of-sound rhythms. The gritty, chaotic guitar squall of Telepathy wouldn't hurt with a Tricky guest verse either. And yes, Summerbreeze does provide an acoustic outing for the whole album, like a gentle closing credits sequence to all that came before. Would be good for future consideration in soundtracks, especially if Björk isn't available.

Chris Witoski - All In Line

nizmusic: 2006

I hummed and hawed a little over whether I should review this. I'm under no real obligation to, see, as this feels more like a glorified demo, or a high-profile localized release if I'm being generous. And while I've reviewed a couple such items here and there, they remain on the 'electronic' side of things, music that I at least advertise as being covered on this blog. This is a rock release though – or a heavy, electric-folk one – Chris Witoski a guitarist who's made a tidy career touring Vancouver pubs and bars performing solo material. He's also part of a band called SplitTRACT, but more often than not, I see his name as a solo gig, and have for nearly a decade now. What I find so surprising about this is he performs at just about any location, from big venues like the River Rock Casino, to little hole-in-the-wall joints in my neighbourhood. That's dedication to one's art, leaving no gig turned down, just for the chance to always be playing for an audience, even ones in the ass-end of Vancouver's suburbs (Marpole still better than Killarney!).

As should be obvious, I have this CD because I happened to see Mr. Witoski one time at a bar downtown. Didn't know who he was but I'm pretty sure I liked the covers he was playing. What happened next is a blur, maybe I drunkenly sauntered up to him between sets to ask if he knew any Neil Young (as I always do to dudes with guitars), and somehow ended up with one of his CDs in my hand. The rest of that night... ooh, God, memorable for all the wrong reasons. The sort of events that have you wondering what you're doing with your life, whether the people you live with are doing you wrong, if there's any escape or solution to the insanity that has been thrust upon you, if you should 'man up' and not sleep in the bed while she stubbornly continues to sleep on the couch... where was I again? Darn associative flashbacks.

My background in acoustic-rock of this nature remains very limited, but if I was to give a musical comparison to what I hear from Chris Witoski's All In Line, I'd have to go with Our Lady Peace or The Tea Party. No, I can't be less Canadian about those comparisons. Mind you, Mr. Witoski doesn't have the nasally pitch of Raine Maida or the baritone of Jeff Martin, Chris' voice a pleasant crooning mid-range with multi-tracking flourishes. I'm just going by the musical comparison there. And save some drumming from Bobby James, all the instrumentation (mostly acoustic guitar) is done by Witoski as well. Production is a little stiff, but it's not like we're dealing with a CBC studio release here. Just some tunes by a local guy, committing his passion to a physical format to share with other. Bro, you should take it to Bandcamp, get some chedda' for your efforts!

Cyril Secq & Orla Wren - Branches

Dronarivm: 2016

Can't say I've ever taken in an album of classical guitar music. Have I even dabbled? The closest I can think of is Michael Brook, but his Cobalt Blue was more an ambient thing, his guitar work another layer of timbre (especially that sweet 'Infinite Guitar' layer!). I must have a couple stray examples of the stuff lurking in this pile of music o' mine, yet the fact I can't instantly recall any doesn't bode well for its prospects. Like, is Jam & Spoon's Hispanos In Space really the best I can think of?

And yeah, all those prog-rock dudes for sure lay out some complicated, classically inspired segments in their works. They're still doing it within the confines of prog-rock though, with fellow band members contributing to the overall songcraft. No, I'm talking solo, acoustic, non-folksy, improvisational technical works. With such greats as... um, okay, I don't know anyone in this field. Even bringing up Wiki-Lists draws a complete blank on yours truly. Julian Bream? Xuefei Yang? Craig Ogden? John Williams? (no, not that John Williams) Yeah, I know shit all here. But hey, even doing this cursory research into the subject has jacked a solid info-dump into my brainpan, so there's that.

Which finally brings us to Branches from Cyril Secq and Orla Wren. The former formed the experimental French folk group Astrïd, while the latter often pairs up with acoustic string musicians to make clicky fuzzy abstract ambient folk-pop. I'm assuming the two were at least aware of each others work, as somewhere along the way, Orla roped Cyril into providing guitar work for his 2013 album Book Of The Folded Forest. Mind, several musicians contributed to that one, as is often the case with many Orla Wren albums, but the creative synergy must have held stronger between the two, going into a collaborative project together. Cyril will provide the strings, and Orla will provide the treatments.

No, really, that's about all there is to Branches. Mr. Secq's finger plucking is spacious and unfussy, the very definition of music as like a meandering stream of conscious flow. Or exploring the branching paths on the limb of a tree, as it were. Of the eight tracks, Troisième Branche uses violin strokes rather than acoustic strumming, while Sixième Branche and Huitième Branche mixes the two together. Regarding the types of guitar Cyril uses, 'fraid I can't help you there. As said, I'm woefully under-educated in the intricacies of classical acoustic music. It does all sound quite pleasant though.

As for Orla Wren, it seems as though he's taken a step back in this partnership, his minimalist sounds consisting of static burbles, clicking pops, sprinkling tonks, airy feedback, weird echoes, and the sort of random electronic noises you'd expect of musique concrete. You know, pretentious art! Heh, no, I'm ribbing - Branches doesn't come off nearly as stuffy. It is extremely avante garde though, clearly intended for intellectual sorts more interested in studying minutiae than a little easy-listening enjoyment.

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.

ACE TRACKS: June 2016

Guess what! I’ve reached the ‘Tr’s of my epic, endless journey through music I own, so you know what that means: it’s time to kick off a Summer Of Trance! Okay, ‘summer’ is pushing it some, but at least a July’s worth, especially if we include items through ‘trans’. Finally though, all of my trancecracker glories and fails will come to light, everything I own that’s trance. Except for the releases that started with ‘Goa’ or ‘Psy’. And all those In Trance We Trust mixes too, I guess. Plus anything that had ‘trance’ in its title, just not the start, come to think of it. Hell, even some releases that didn’t have ‘trance’ at all, like A Day On Our Planet or Dreamland or Ideas From the Pond or Rendezvous In Outer Space. Fine, this upcoming bundle of trance is but a fraction of the total amount floating about my stores of CDs. Trust me though, after a month of this, you’ll be begging for variety. Gangsta rap, psychedelic rock, minimal derp-haus, anything! Or hey, whatever’s on this ACE TRACKS playlist for June 2016. Yes, nailed the segueway!



Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Toronto Mix Sessions: Kenny Glasgow
Various - Trade: Past Present Future

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 2%
Percentage of Rock: 34%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Archies - Sugar, Sugar (how do I suddenly have diabetes after listening to this song!?? …but seriously, another Dronny Darko piece is the answer)

Not quite as eclectic as these past couple months, as I mostly spent June wrapping up backlog before carrying on with ‘T’ albums. Heavier on the folky, alternative, and indie rock than anything else, but also got into familiar territory again with trip-hop, d’n’b, techno, and Neil Young. Really not much else to say about this playlist, because TRANCE is coming, man! TRANCE!

Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Parlaphone: 2002

I suppose if you’re gonna’ have any Coldplay album, it may as well be this one. It’s stronger than their debut, wherein the band members’ quick success had provided plenty confidence in their song-writing. It’s also still early in their career, before all the pretentious waffle that came associated with the band emerged, their sound fresh in the minds of everyone coming within earshot of Clocks and In My Place. It’s definitely the best-selling of Coldplay’s albums, earning over twenty-million sales globally, despite not even hitting the number one spot in America. Thanks to its ultra-success, nearly every album since A Rush Of Blood To The Head debuted on top of charts the world over, the streak finally ending with last year’s A Head Full Of Dreams.

And just what gave Coldplay’s sophomore effort such undeniable fame, fortune, plaudits, and popularity? Eh, I’m not the guy to psycho-analyze this. Given its never-ending placement in “Best Ever Rock Albums” lists, not to mention the massive market penetration, more than enough folks have provided in-depth insight into what made this album ‘work’. I’ve only given the band passive interest over the years, their ubiquitous presence upon radios abroad sating whatever Coldplay need I ever had. Nearly did pick up that X&Y album though, what with promo hype promising inspiration from electronic music past; impossibly, eye-catching cover art didn’t hurt either, luring me in as fuzzy Lepidoptera to flame.

Talk about A Rush Of Blood To The Head I must though, and my stunning conclusion of this album is… yeah, it’s a nice listen. Not shattering any narratives here, my friends. Coldplay have that sweet middle ground of pop sensibilities while presenting themselves with enough earnest songcraft that you can’t fault them on any basic musical level. The melodies fill a room as pleasant background fluff, have enough substance to lure you in for a closer listen, and never wander too far off the path of familiarity. It’s the sound everyone figured Radiohead would have made if that band had only explored their inner U2 capabilities rather than go full-on Pink Floyd. In other words, exactly the music most magazines are quick to heap praise upon, radios are quick to flood the airwaves with, and folks were eager to own in their still-practical CD collections. Fair play to Coldplay in filling that apparent gaping void, though it cannot be denied hearing In My Place every week for the past decade is too damn much for any sane person.

I don’t know what else to say about A Rush Of Blood To The Head - today’s events are kinda’ distracting. I’ve read speculation attributing the album’s success to the aftershock of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a calming musical journey that also provided a sense of motivated urgency in how people should proceed. While playing this on a day like today, reading of innocent people falling to yet another senseless, preventable tragedy, that theory was definitely put into practice for yours truly. Rest well.

Sarah McLachlan - Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff

Nettwerk: 1996

I very nearly bought this when it was new. Rabbit In The Moon is on here, providing two remixes for Ms. McLachlan, including a rub on Possession (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song). The fact Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff also has an Extended Remix of the only other song by Sarah I knew of (Into The Fire), and the temptation was there, believe you me. Taking a quick listen changed my mind though - I had no idea she was so acoustic. Right, I’ve already mentioned my early McLachlan knowledge was super-lacking, and man, was I ever gonna’ get some knowledge dropped on me hard the following year, when Surfacing became a Canadian Touchstone of Music Excellence Pertaining To Cultural Significance (or however CBC calls it now). Still, Rabbit In The F’n Moon… You’ve no idea how difficult it was finding their stuff in CD format back in the day. Hell, even now it’s hard, at least for a reasonable penny out of your purse.

While an ‘odds-n-sods’ collection of McLachlan material is hardly out of the ordinary, the fact this came out before she hit international stardom does come as a surprise. No doubt Fumbling Towards Ecstasy was a successful album, and even Solace and Touch had been slow burners, but nothing from those suggested her fanbase had grown significant enough for a stopgap like Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff. She didn’t even have enough material for a ‘Best Of’ package at this stage of her career, and wouldn’t do the deed for that until the 2004 Retrospective. Interest indeed was there though, this compilation actually hitting the Top Ten of Canada’s Billboard charts, and even Triple-Platinum in my country. Wow, I’m not alone in my hunt for obscure Rabbit In The Moon remixes then!

Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff definitely lives up to its name, a hodge-podge of miscellaneous material throughout Ms. McLachlan’s first decade of music-making. This includes a number of covers: XTC’s Dear God, Canadian folkie Joni Mitchell’s Blue, and other Canadian folkie Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night. These all sound about as you’d expect from Sarah on the acoustic, mellow side, though given the power behind her pipes, I suspect she recorded them during the recent interim between albums, maybe as a means of helping her recharge her muse. Another cover’s here, a live recording of o-o-old-timey lament Gloomy Sunday, with the modernist Billy Holiday lyrics used.

So what’s this ‘other stuff’, then? A soundtrack-only track in I Will Remember You, which was a major selling point for this CD. RITM do a LunaSol Remix on Fear, which the boys behind Delerium were definitely paying attention to. A Violin Mix of Shelter. An early release of Surfacing track Full Of Grace. And, in case you forgot label Nettwerk’s origins leaned synth-pop and industrial, McLachlan lends a voice on 1988’s As the End Draws Near from long-forgotten duo Manufacture. Look, Sarah was young, she needed the work.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 1: Disc 3 - Live At The Riverboat 1969

Reprise Records: 2009

There's quite the romanticism associated with Neil Young's first year of solo gigs - the 'purity' of audience connectivity in small, intimate venues, places where a musician with any sort of star-ascent is unable to perform in. 1968 and ‘69 were about the only years Young could have done such shows once he broke away from his Buffalo Springfield fame, still a relatively unknown entity beyond being the kooky guy with a ridiculously long leather tassel jacket. Even with a debut album to tour with, he could get away with the small-time vibe of coffee houses, the lack of big singles beyond his Springfield output keeping him on the fringes of folk-rock interests. Thus CDs like Sugar Mountain - Live At Canterbury House 1968 and Live At Cellar Door (recorded 1970) are wonderful bits of Shakey artefacts, the last performances where you can picture Neil sitting but a dozen feet from you, casually chit-chatting with a genteel audience playing from a very small selection of songs he'd written to that point.

Live At The Riverboat 1969 is a significant performance from Young, in that it marked his first return to Toronto after his westward exodus. In but two years later, he’d be playing Massey Hall, but at this point in his career, the tiny Riverboat coffee house was more than enough to draw in locals who remembered him from his Squires days ...haha, no, as with everyone else, they likely knew of his music through Buffalo Springfield. Half his set list features songs written those years (I Am A Child, Expecting To Fly, Broken Arrow, etc.), and most of the rest is from his self-titled debut. Its nice hearing acoustic versions of some of the over-produced tunes like Broken Arrow and The Old Laughing Lady, though not essential pieces of music for casual Rusties.

And honestly, there’s not much difference between Live At The Riverboat and Live At Canterbury House. Not that Young had a huge discography at this point for eclectic acoustic playlists, but there’s little incentive to have this recording beyond being a charming addition to Archives, Vol. 1. Okay, the audience rapport’s funny too, tales of the odd necessity for musicians to make ‘dope songs’, bizarre medical practices, a shout-out to Bruce Palmer in the audience, and a bit of fun playing five-second children’s jingles like 1956 Bubblegum Disaster (“It took me three years to write that one.”).

Ooh, spare word count - let’s talk about the DVD presentation! Live At The Riverboat’s an odd one, practically a study in minimalist film making. It features a solitary reel-to-reel atop a stool running under a low spotlight, an acoustic guitar resting beside it, a couple microphones nearby, tables with candle-lights glowing in the surrounding darkness, and scattered playlist notes on the ground. The camera angles and focus change up between songs, so it’s not one long take either. I cannot deny the setting imparts a remarkably nostalgic twinge of times past (re: reel-to-reels fascinated Toddler Sykonee).

Neil Young - Live At Massey Hall 1971

Reprise Records: 2007

The idea of resurrecting old live gigs was definitely tantalizing to Neil Young fans, given the rumours of how much mint material remained untapped and unheard by public ears in decades. Yet while the first release of this series, Live At The Fillmore East, was cool for what it was, it still felt slight, barely a cursory glance of those particular shows. While I doubt folks would be disappointed if the Performance Series carried on that way, some had to wonder if the format could be improved upon.

Whether by coincidence or design, they got their answer in the second volume, Live At Massey Hall. This show was deemed so good by Young’s long-time producer David Briggs that he pleaded it be released rather than Harvest. Young decided against it, but considering how popular that album went on to be, the Massey Hall recordings must have been incredible. Yeah, it is, though in an unexpected way.

Despite having an established career playing acoustic rock and folk, there’d only been sporadic official live album of this side of Young, and even then with backing musicians. This was the first full concert album of Neil playing just by himself, nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a piano in his arsenal – not even a harmonica shows up!

Such a stripped back performance works well enough for small, intimate venues like coffee houses and cellars, which Young had toured in for some time when he first went solo. By 1971, however, he’d become quite the star, and small, intimate venues were a thing of his past. Yet here he is in Massey Hall playing his music for a large, at times rowdy audience, and treating it as though it was for a group of fifty.

Therein lies Live At Massey Hall’s magic. There’s a real sense of stage isolation while listening to this, Young retreating into his own space as he sings. At times, when he belts out the high notes of Old Man and Down By The River, his voice echoes across the hall, further adding to that sense of remoteness. You can easily picture him surrounded by darkness up there, a single spotlight glowing from above keeping him from disappearing altogether. Despondent songs like Bad Fog Of Loneliness, Tell Me Why, A Man Needs A Maid, and even Cowgirl In The Sand completes the picture, even without the DVD aid of concert footage.

And yet, this all creates a stronger connection to him as a performer, where he’s allowing us into his private domain. It helps that he has a very respectful audience (mostly hippies his age, apparently), enthusiastic between songs, and remarkably quiet when Young sings. Maybe it was unfamiliarity with the music he debuted at this concert (“Heart Of Gold? Never heard of it.”), or maybe it was the Toronto crowd welcoming back a native son. Whichever the case, Live At Massey Hall was an early highlight of the Performance Series, one that’s yet to be repeated.