King Cannibal - Ninja Tune XX Presents: The Way Of The Ninja

Ninja Tune: 2010

70 Minutes Of Madness? This one’s insanity, two-hundred fifty-six tunes utilized, some barely for a second's worth of sample. This isn't a DJ mix in the traditional sense, but rather an overambitious collage celebrating Ninja Tune's twentieth anniversary, ramming and jamming as many cuts and blends possible so no one significant is left behind. And while King Cannibal was at it, here's the sub-labels getting repped too: Big Dada, N-Tone, and Counter. Can’t deny Mr. Richards’ passion for this project, but can there be fault in the final product?

Depends how you approach The Way Of The Ninja. As a DJ set highlighting all the Ninja Tune, it’s far too stuffed with content for any sustained flow. The label made their name with acid jazz, trip-hop, turntablisism, and other down-low soulful-funky genres of the ‘90s, and even as their influence waned, they kept their fingers on the pulse of new developments - dubstep, grime, and even indie rock found homes within Ninja Tune’s archives, always signing music and acts beyond class. Just as well, then, that The Cannibalistic Lord divided everything up into uniquely titled sections featuring specific genres or highlighting certain artists. Including the Intro, Way Of The Ninja has twenty of these mini-megamixes within the mix. And remember, there’s two-hundred fifty-six individual tracks used, all crammed into these indexes. This CD, it’s full of musics!

The Intro track alone, at just under two minutes long, has nineteen bits and pieces listed. The shortest track on here, subtitled Big Tunes, Big Hits, runs a minute-twenty and has a ‘mere’ eight tunes, including two mixes of More Beats & Pieces. Meanwhile, the lengthiest one, Welcome To Our Ageing Sideshow, clocks in at the heftier side of six minutes, also with nineteen tunes squeezed in (ooh, Timber’s in this one!). Hell, two more chunks, I Wanna See All The Hands and Tings Get Heat Up, Rewound And Torn Down hold about the same number of tracks, with a mere four minutes of run-time. So much musics, man, just so much musics.

Artists? Coldcut, Amon Tobin, Herbaliser, Roots Manuva, DJ Vadim, Mr. Scruff, DJ Food, Hexstatic, Bonobo, Neotropic, The Bug, Sixtoo, Jaga Jazzist, Super Numeri, Funki Porcini, Qemists, Cujo, Spank Rock, Thunderheist, Fink, 2 Player, Wagon Christ, Anti Pop Consortium- Look, I’ll be here forever if I list off the near-entirety of the Ninja Tune roster. Same with pointing out specific tracks, although obviously not every single song’s on here. And, while King Cannibal tries giving many their due, some get cut short (no Irresistible Force, what?) or have barely a token sample tossed in. For instance, I was gutted the bass drop of his own Flower Of Flesh And Blood never materialized. Wow, I actually missed a dubstep drop. Crazy.

So’s The Way Of The Ninja. It’s a fun CD if you want to relive so much Ninja Tune in a short amount of time, but best treated as a novelty rather than a proper showcase of the label’s rich history.

Paolo Mojo - Nightlaw / Home (Original TC Review)

Oosh: 2008

(2014 Update:
Though I mention otherwise in the review, I think the real reason I checked this single out was due to it being the latest one I noticed at Juno Records. As for why cover Paolo Mojo at all, he truly did seem like a house-producer on the rise (the Balance bump obviously helped), but he's since subsided into a comfortable role of above-average, mostly unremarkable consistency so many house DJ/producers are wont to do.

He's also continued keeping up with the trends as each emerges in the various house scenes. Some of his final Oosh material featured the brief tribal-tech sound Radio Slave and Luciano made noteworthy following minimal's collapse (not to mention his own label's demise). Moving to digital, he's now releasing deep house and garage on 303Lovers, because of course he would. He started out with progressive house and electro house when those were in vogue too, didn't he? Man, bandwagon jump, much?)


IN BRIEF: Mojo goes minimal.

When Paolo Mojo (Paul Brimson to the government) contributed to Balance a couple years back with its ninth edition, it helped cement that DJ mix series as one of the freshest and most welcome upstarts around, and definitely one to keep an eye on for future releases. Much can be said of Mojo’s productions as well. His breakout single 1983 tickled the fancy of those enjoying proper retro-electro takes on house music (having an Eric Prydz remix attached to it didn’t hurt either) and the UK resident has built up a respected reputation with subsequent releases following a similar aesthetic. Fortunately, Mojo’s wise enough to not continue rehashing his previous successes and this year of 2008 has seen him take on minimal attributes with his tech house (plinkin’ an’a plongin’ an’a white noisin’ alongin’).

He’s put out a few singles in the past few months but for the time being, let’s focus specifically on this one containing the two tracks Nightlaw and Home. Why, you ask? Because, I reply, this was about where Mojo fully dove into minimal’s possibilities, so it’s a good talking point.

Funnily enough, Nightlaw is at its best when it isn’t fiddling around with minuscule minutia. The opening two-and-a-half minutes amount to not much of anything as basic rhythms with thick bass are laid out, which is rather generous mix-in layering time. Once we’re through with that, however, a hooky melody emerges and gradually builds in prominence, eventually capping off with a breakdown-and-snare-roll combo as klaxons blast from the distance. Sounds like a great climax, right? It’s somewhat disappointing, then, that given the lead-up and the initial strength of the actual drop, Nightlaw’s release isn’t as powerful as it could have been. It’s like a lidded pot is boiling over, and just as you think it’s about to erupt, it instead gives a quick burst of hissing steam, then calmly settles back down into a simmer. I want to throw my arms in the air but I’m only compelled to give an enthusiastic shrug, as though I’m trying to cover club-BO from my armpits. Ah well.

Home is all about build-up too, but because it is dominated by rhythm (melody is practically non-existent in this one), that sense of missed potential at the peaks isn’t quite as prominent. In fact, as a set piece, Home is highly effective, making use of a ‘double-build’ arrangement set to beats that march along in fine form. While a higher BPM would give this some more energy, I don’t think Mojo had peak-time tech-house banger in mind for this b-side, especially since that’s obviously more Nightlaw’s territory.

These aren’t Mojo’s strongest efforts but as a stab at style-biting Dubfire, he easily trumps the former Deep Dish man. He’s managed to find a comfortable niche within minimal tech circles and will undoubtedly ride this current trend with credibility intact.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus ('Proper' Review)

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Okay, let's critique this for realsies. Does Nightflight To Venus hold up? Was Frank Farian a mad musical genius or German hack? Why do we forgive Boney M.'s lip-syncing, but ruthlessly crucify the latter Farian-helmed project, Milli Vanilli? Actually, that last one's easily answered: Milli Vanilli won Grammys, while Boney M. did not. Fool the common plebs of music consumers all you want, but don't you dare make a mockery of the Grammys!

It's not like Farian planned a career of studio lurking while pretty boys and girls pranced about on stages, quite content remaining anonymous. Despite a love of funk, disco, soul, reggae, and other contemporary black music, his being way German wouldn't fly with traditional audiences of those scenes. So hiding in the studio suited him fine, but then his Boney M. project got ridiculously popular within a few short years, and a demand for live performances and telecasts forced him to create the stage act we associate with the name. Why not appear live himself? He wouldn’t be taken seriously, of course, unlike having lip-syncers ‘perform’ the music instead. 1970s, you so wacky.

Nightflight To Venus came out when Boney M. was at the height of their popularity, Farian’s perfect blend of disco-pop and euro-reggae having won the ears and hearts of thousands across the continent. How’s a crafty German follow upon such success? Get totally conceptual on the masses’ asses! Well, not too conceptual, but the first two tracks have to rank up there with some of the ballsiest moves a disco-pop producer could open an album with.

Though hopping on the super-hot sci-fi bandwagon with the titular cut wasn’t unprecedented, the fact Farian would craft such a loopy, tribal rhythm had to catch the Boney M. faithful off-guard. Add in marching drums and clapping “Hey! Hey!”s, and it feels as though you’re a part of the Soviet Verena missions to Venus. For that matter, Farian must have had a brief fascination with the Russians, carrying the rhythms through to Rasputin so whatever theme he’d created with Nightflight To Venus was maintained. As for one of the biggest disco-pop hits ever, can you imagine a song about a Russian monk hitting the top of today’s dance charts? Hell, anything with an historical story involved? Utterly, brilliantly daft and genius, that Farian be.

The other big single off here, Rivers Of Babylon, plays more to the group’s Caribbean charms, inoffensive music often emanating from radios, though anyone deeply versed in reggae won’t find much of interest there. And if I’m honest, that’s also true for the disco cuts He Was A Steppenwolf and Voodoonight. Farian does have a way with a hook though, and slick production chops that you can’t help but find yourself grooving to. It’s the sort of music most DJs wouldn’t mind playing as part of a fun mixtape, the unheralded album tracks that somehow work against all odds. Go on, admit your unabashed adoration for Boney M. Rasputin compels you to...

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus (Anecdotal 'Review')

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Say what you want about Boney M. – and believe me, you won't be saying anything new – it's undeniable their popularity's endured thanks to Frank Farian's impeccable production chops and savvy marketing. Hell, it sure worked for me, Nightflight To Venus an irresistible concept to a kid just discovering things like Star Wars and other cool space-orientated- ack, no, no! I won’t turn this review into an endless parade of anecdotes. My self-imposed word count doesn’t allow for it. Okay, focus, focus...

Nope, not happening. I’m not getting through this review without dropping more. Sure, I could be all professional and shit about Nightflight To Venus, but there’s no fun in that. I’ve so many stories tied to this record, so many memories as a kid listening to it. You know what, screw it. I’m going all the way down Anecdote Alley here, and if that’s a problem, come back tomorrow where I’ll deal with the album proper-like. I gotta’ get this nostalgia outta’ my system, folks.

Nightflight To Venus is undeniably ground zero for my enjoyment of so many things musically: catchy hooks and harmonies, DJ mixes, dance rhythms, space-themed music, and Neil Young. For a kid getting into sci-fi, the titular opener was utter catnip for a fruitful imagination. Those robot voices, sound effects, gnarly guitar licks, and thumping rhythms was unlike anything I’d heard before, purely driven by a concept than actual song writing. Then it kept going into a totally different song about a bizarre Russian named Rasputin, with some of ear-wormiest hooks I’d ever heard. It blew my young mind you could even do that with music, make two separate tunes seem like one! And those awesome choruses are filled throughout Nightflight To Venus, some with lyrics that seem almost intended to be sung along with by kids (Painter Man, Rivers Of Babylon, Brown Girl In The Ring).

What’s elevated Nightflight To Venus above so many other albums of my young life, however, is the fact it was the first record I recall listening to front-to-back, and aside from Raffi’s Baby Beluga (shaddap), would remain the only one I would repeatedly do so for many years. For as much as I enjoyed The Police’s records too, I still could only ever get through half a Side A before getting bored. While Boney M.’s fun music was part of my willingness to go the distance, the fact one of my favourite songs on the album, Heart Of Gold, was at the end, forced me to sit patiently through the whole record to hear it (the original’s country? No way, this is the real version!). Even the slower ‘message’ song before it, Never Change Lovers In The Middle Of The Night, couldn’t deter me from waiting in anticipation for those wonderful vocal harmonies and funky disco guitar licks emerging. It instilled a listening habit that persists to this day, of appreciating albums as collective wholes rather than jumping from song to song. Well done, Nightflight To Venus. Well done.

John O'Callaghan - Never Fade Away (Original TC Review)

Armada Digital: 2009

(2014 Update:
John O'Callaghan's kept himself busy in the euro-trance scene, a name often dropped among those who feel he's among a few DJs and producers still keeping the old-school vibe alive, resistant to jumping on the latest electro, anthem house, or hardstyle-in-hiding bandwagon. To this, I have to ask, "Da'fuq!? The Big Sky guy, really? One of the most blatant crossover vocal anthems to emerge in the last half-decade, and you're championing him as one of your saviors of the underground? Have you really grown so desperate?" Chaps like J00F, Lolo, and John Askew, I can see, but not O'Cally, not after this album. Unless he was initially pressured by Armada after signing with them to make such music, which I could totally see happening given the label's ridiculous homogeny at the time.

I guess I shouldn't be too hard on him - after all, I gave him the benefit of the doubt going into this album, having enjoyed Something To Live For. I probably go on a bit too much about that aspect in this review (to say nothing of yet another overlong explanation of a now-pointless rating). And if I'm honest, I've lightened up a little on Big Sky, at least on the lyrical front. The other vocal tunes are still pants though.)


IN BRIEF: After a bigger piece of the vocal trance pie.

It’s not that a writer won’t get hate-mail for negative reviews of popular-but-poor releases – that’s common. Yet, the content of such ‘letters’ oftentimes has an acceptant tone to it, as though the hate-mailer knows the music is of lesser quality but doesn’t care one way or the other. The matter is then quietly dismissed and everyone moves on. Nay, the really controversial reviews are those that are generally accepted as poor, but the reviewer actually likes.

Without getting into the numerous examples of such here at TranceCritic, I’ll just touch upon the one that pertains to this review: John O’Callaghan’s first album, Something To Live For. I liked it. Sure, it was far from a brilliant album, but as a collection of simple, energetic epic trance and bangin’ tech-trance, it was enjoyable. In fact, I found it downright nostalgic, as O’Cally recaptured some of the spirit of the genre’s raise in prominence near the end of the ‘90s. For whatever reason though, a great many folks out there hated it, as poor ol’ John became an unofficial whipping boy of all that’s gone wrong with trance in recent years.

The reason I bring this up is, if anyone here could give O’Callaghan’s latest album - Never Fade Away - a fair shake, it’d probably be me, as I have no previous anti-bias against his work going in. However, what we have on this CD is much different than what was offered on Something To Live For, as O’Cally has promptly abandoned much of his previous sound in favor of something far more financially lucrative.

It’s quite pointless to accuse him of selling out because John knows full well it’s what he’s done. And who can blame him? When the sales of the post-Something… single Big Sky (included here in a ballad version) were far exceeding material like Space & Time, the writing was clearly on the wall: if you want to make it in this industry, produce tracks with vocals. And boy has he ever.

Eight of the twelve tracks on this album feature vocalists, all female. Although a few are fairly known in the scene (Audrey Gallagher, Sarah Howells, Lo-Fi Sugar), they’re all pretty interchangeable, with lyrics consisting of your usual simple couplets regarding love and such. Inoffensive material for the most part, although if the thought of over-emoting choruses sends cold shivers down your spine, you’d best stay well away. Truthfully, there isn’t anything particularly wrong with these choruses – they’re catchy enough that they’ll lodge inside your head as they play, but will promptly fade away shortly after (which makes the title of this album hilariously ironic). There’s very little about these vocal tunes that lift them above the usual euro-trance glut.

And unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem to be had with this album: O’Cally’s complete lack of personality as a producer. Were you to lodge any of these vocal tracks into a Trance Divas compilation, they’d promptly be lost amongst the Mike Shivers, Ronski Speeds, Langes, Above & Beyonds, and any other notable vocal-fluff femme-trance producer. There is absolutely nothing here that makes you say, “This is the John O’Callaghan sound!” Rather, it’s the sound of simple and safe production so a licensing company can come along and pick any one of these tracks for their Euro Vocal Trance Ibiza Voice compilation. This may work to O’Cally’s favor if he ends up sharing compilation duty with the likes of Cascada or Lasgo, but not with his newfound roster-mates at Armada.

There’s one stretch on here where O’Callaghan does exhibit a musical persona, with the blissy three-track run of Out Of Nowhere, Never Fade Away, and Tom Colontonio-collaboration Through The Light. This is perfectly pleasant music, touching on the tranquil Ibizan-tinged trance vibes that makes light-weight fluff such as this a guilty pleasure for many (although Never Fade Away is actually more of a ballad). Granted, it’s just as safe and unsurprising as anything else here, but I challenge even the bitterest trance-cynic out there to not enjoy the sequence of these three songs at some level.

So, with this many perfectly average pop-trance tunes on here, this should earn Never Fade Away a perfectly average 5/10 score –yet, the final grade is actually lower than this, and, perhaps surprisingly, is primarily due to the non-vocal cuts. Aside from the aforementioned Through The Light, these tracks are generic in the worst sense of the word. Heck, Broken is bordering on parody, coming off like a desperate attempt on O’Cally’s part to prove ‘he can stills be tough tech-trancer’; despite a killer hook being hinted at in the breakdown, it just meanders about with dull bangin’ beats. Meanwhile, Liquid Fire and Megalith sound like left-over ideas collaborators Giuseppe Ottaviani and Aly & Fila had for other tracks, while Don’t Look Back is a rehash of the much better Through The Light. Bottom line is if you’ve been listening to trance for even a year, these will sound utterly over-familiar, with O’Cally’s lack of production personality hobbling their appeal more than ever.

Then again, I kind of doubt this album is intended for the veteran trancer. Nay, it’s primarily for the new kids on the scene whom have ‘graduated’ from the likes of Milk Inc., Scooter, and ‘donk’ music. And that’s absolutely fine, especially so since O’Callaghan has specifically targeted this audience anyway. The trouble with his album, however, is in a field with so many others catering to this crowd, plus dozens of similarly-themed compilations readily available any given month, ol’ John hasn’t done anything here to make Never Fade Away stand out – in fact, he’s gone out of his way to sound exactly like every other euro-trance producer out there. If you’re in the market for this particular genre, you’d be better off picking up a random Armada compilation, since O’Callaghan’s simply copying the label’s biggest producers anyway.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

The Irresistible Force - Nepalese Bliss

Ninja Tune: 1998

Won't front, I was disappointed in this single. Totally my fault, of course, expecting Nepalese Bliss to show as much diversity as the Fish Dances EP, but I failed to realize the two are totally different wee-beasts. Fish Dances was more of a mini remix album, nicking various tunes from It's Tomorrow Already for re-rub duty rather than a sole focus on a single song. Hell, another remix of Nepalese Bliss was added to Fish Dances, as though there just wasn't enough room on its own single! Perhaps so if we're dealing with the vinyl version, plus it's possible a couple more remixing names were drawn in after the fact, missing the initial street date of the album's lead single.

Yeah, far as Lord Discogs can tell me, Nepalese Bliss was intended as an introduction of Mixmaster Morris’ style to the Ninja Tune, just in case a full album was too much to digest all at once. Released a month before It's Tomorrow Already hit the streets, this track’s about the closest thing on it at capturing the jazz-hop sound Coldcut's label grew famous for. Heck, Mr. Irresistible Force probably produced it specifically with their audience in mind, because the regular Ninja followers sure weren't likely to give a psychedelic ambient-techno noodler much care otherwise. Here, just try out some Nepalese Bliss, it’s like that ganja smoke you toke, only more, more, more so. Well, the voice-over claims it’s the street term for hashish with streaks of opium ash in it, definitely a vibe the acid jazz folks could dig on in their dens.

To further sell The Irresistible Force upon their dedicated clientele, Ninja Tune brought in two of their heaviest hitters for the rubs, DJ Food and Amon Tobin. As part of the label since its inception, it’s little surprise the Fooded Ones (Strictly Kev, plus Patrick Carpenter at this point in the project’s life) go deeper into the deep acid jazz vibes: less psychedelic flashes, more smoky haze. Amon being Amon, it’s all about the dip and drop into trip-hop skunk – something a bit heavy in that cut of Nepalese bliss, methinks. Fila Brazillia were also brought in from Pork Records for an upbeat funky nu-jazz remix, because it’s Fila Brazillia, and that’s just what they does.

So the music’s fine on this EP, but as mentioned, rather pedestrian as a package. The remixers offer exactly what you’d expect of the names, and I’ve no idea why a Radio Edit would be included here – Hell, would anything from Mixmaster Morris ever get airplay? No, modern micro-niche internet radio streams don’t count. This was the late ‘90s, yo’, this music’s only ridin’ proper AM or FM waves out there. Still, one curious thing about the CD inlay is how there are seams creating twenty-one equal-sized rectangles, as though intended for separation and used as a make-shift puzzle pieces of the cover. Cool idea if so, but wouldn’t that devalue the single’s resell worth on the used market?

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 1: Disc 8 - North Country (1971-1972)

Reprise Records: 2009

“Mr. Young, you've achieved fame and fortune before your Thirties, have achieved more in a decade's worth of music than most could hope for in a lifetime, performed with a multitude of talented musicians covering a wide range of rock, country, folk, and even a God damned symphony while in London. What do you plan on doing next?”

“I'm gonna' get me a ranch, and get away from all you spazzes.”

Well, okay, he didn't say exactly that, but he was inching ever closer to diving “for the ditch”, as Young so eloquently put it in a few short years. The final music disc of Archive, Vol. 1 is almost bittersweet in how it caps off the box-set at the absolute peak of ol' Shakey's commercial success, most of his material from Harvest accounted for. That's another album I've already reviewed, so check that one out for the particular details of how his most popular record came into being. The only additions from the Stray Gators sessions that didn't appear on Harvest include Bad Fog Of Loneliness, Journey Through The Past, and an extended take of Words (Between The Lines Of Age). I think this material was featured in Young's movie soundtrack, but I never bought that, despite the allure of having Young and a rare-ish Beach Boys tune on the same record!

Another live recording of Heart Of Gold starts out North Country (1971-1972), included as evidence for his admittance at having little prior experience using a mounted harmonica (I guess). The back end of Disc 8 includes a couple more examples of Neil’s “heavy political material” in Soldier and War Song with Graham Nash (what, no Crosby or Stills?). And that’s it, the end of Archives, Vol. 1. We’re done, over, finished. Boy, that week blew by fast. Thank God though, as I couldn’t take much more Neil in such a single sitting again. I enjoy his music, but not that I must hear it all the time.

Is this where I absolutely, definitely, positively recommend this box set? No, of course not - only a hardcore Rustie should bother with Archives, Vol. 1. If you do intend to take the plunge based on hearing a few songs from this era, I still wouldn’t recommend it much as an exploratory dive-in point – checking out the albums is a safer bet. That said, Archives, Vol. 1 is handy in gathering all his disparate output into one, tidy package, and the sound quality can’t be beat if you spring for the DVD or Blu-Ray bundle. Plus, every track has a different custom ‘video’ crafted for it, a short film of either a record (official release), reel-to-reel (previously unreleased material), or other medium (cassette tape, 8-track (lol)) playing in a unique setting surrounded by pertinent memorabilia – yes, even for minute-long ditties like Cripple Creek Ferry. With one-hundred twenty-eight tracks total, that’s a remarkable amount of affection and care given in presenting Young’s material. Would any self-respecting Rustie expect less?

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 1: Disc 6 - Topanga 3 (1970)

Reprise Records: 2009

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 in that time, 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 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.

Also, something must have lit a bug up his ass, because Young got incredibly political at this point in his career – post hippie activism, I guess. Southern Man was already an incendiary condemnation of, well, southern redneck ‘justice’ and treatment of African-Americans. Then the Kent State shooting occurred, and within days, Young was calling upon his super-group brothers-in-arms Crosby, Stills, and Nash, ready to unleash an incendiary attack on Nixon for the travesty (Ohio). After all, if you’re being billed a very important rock band, might as well use that platform to get a very important message out there too. It’s a trick the group would do again while touring together as Young was promoting his Living With War album during Bush Jr.’s administration.

Some live stuff from CSNY round out the rest of Topanga 3 (1970), including a bit of silly stage banter while struggling with a bass guitar set-up. After fuffing about, Neil says, “We’d like to do a serious song now.” “Some of our heavy political material,” Stills deadpans. “This song of Neil’s got us thrown right out of Kuwait.” Ohio? Nope, Tell Me Why. Oh, those jokers.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 1: Disc 4 - Topanga 2 (1969-1970)

Reprise Records: 2009

Having gotten the solo stylee out of his system, Neil Young finished off his modest first tour and high-tailed it back to Topanga. He had unfinished business with that Crazy Horse trio of Danny Whitten, Ralph Molina, and Billy Talbot he stole from The Rockets, an album with them to complete after enjoying such an invigorating first session that saw Down By The River and Cowgirl In The Sand emerge. Having spent some time properly preparing for new recordings, the songs written were far shorter, less about extended rock jams and such. The big tune off this outing was Cinnamon Girl, and if you’ve still yet to hear it after I explicitly told you to in the Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere review… Well, now you have no excuse. Ignore my recommendation once, shame on you, ignore my recommendation twice, double-shame on you!

This second recording session included a few more songs that ended up on the group’s first album, plus a handful more that would fill out Young’s second solo outing After The Goldrush. Crazy Horse were also working on their own album, which would have the fun country-stomp romp of Dance Dance Dance as a highlight even though Young often played it solo too. On Disc 4 is a ridiculously charming drunken hoe-down version – what’s even going on with those hi-hats? Love it!

While back in Topanga, his old musical comrade/nemesis Stephen Stills from the Springfield got in touch with Neil about joining his current band, Crosby, Stills & Nash, the idea they’d become an American super-rock group that could creatively rival anyone from the UK. Okay, maybe it’s just my being of a totally younger generation, but really? Neil Young’s awesome, no doubt, and Stills plus David Crosby were undeniably at the height of their musical potential in the late ‘60s, but I’ve a difficult time believing this group was anything close to The Beatles or The Who. Then again, Stills and Young did have the same creative synergy going for them that Lennon and McCartney had, so who knows, maybe they were onto something after all.

The other half of Topanga 2 (1969-1970) mostly features tunes recorded in anticipation for the first CSNY tour, including their performance of Sea Of Madness at Woodstock. Oh yeah, Young was at Woodstock, because of course he would be, though he mostly kept out of sight even when on stage. Guess he hadn’t gotten over that ‘too big an audience’ hang-up he had that led him to playing coffee houses in the first place. Dammit, he wouldn’t have this problem if he would just stop making great music, but Young never lets his creativity sit fallow for long.

Anyhow, the CSNY tunes on Topanga 2 are nice, vastly more studio polished compared to the Crazy Horse stuff. Can’t say I’m much of a fan of this super-group, at least with the songs Young initially contributed. Shortly though, he’d kick out one of their all-time classics.

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).