Overrated/Underrated Round 3
Artist: Neil Young
Background: With maybe the exception of David Bowie, no artist had a better 1970’s winning streak than Neil Young. From 1970 to 1979, Young released nearly a dozen albums that ranged in quality from very good (American Stars n’ Bars) to downright classic (Tonight’s The Night). Every year yielded another stunningly strong album of Young’s unparalleled songwriting.
Whether it was the soft-spoken hippy-dippy folk of Comes A Time or the raucous, Crazy Horse dumb-guy stomp of Rust Never Sleeps, Young kept the listeners on their toes, changing styles from album to album, song to song, without it ever sounding anything less than organic…
Overrated: Harvest
…well, there was this one time, actually.
When all is said and done, Harvest is a pretty spectacular album. It contains what are inarguably a handful of Young’s all time greatest songs (“Out On The Weekend,” “Heart of Gold,” “Old Man,” “The Needle And The Damage Done”), and it’s easily his highest selling album to date. Add to that the fact that some mook recently wrote a book about the top 100 Canadian albums and crowned the 1972 album to the top spot of what I’m sure is quite the auspicious list, and you have the Young album that is proudly tucked away in record collections of millions of music nerds and non-nerds alike.
But while a whole hell of a lot of the album is absolutely stunning, it ain’t exactly perfect. Any album that is going to be thrown on the top of any list, published or not, should be just about perfect. Harvest is not perfect.
Exhibit A: “A Man Needs A Maid”
One of the defining characteristics of Harvest was Young’s employment of the London Symphony Orchestra. It was a major sonic risk and subsequently one of the only times Young’s quivering, nasal vocals have been ill fitting with the music. “A Man Needs A Maid” is a middling piano ballad that builds into an ugly orchestral mess, with one of Young’s most grating melodies and some of his most painful lyrics. Even at the best of times, Young’s piano ballades run the risk of being saccharine and overwrought. At it’s worst, like it is here, it’s a totally forced and grating.
Exhibit B: “There’s A World”
After the cool, caustic folk of “Old Man” comes one of the most jarring moments of bad album sequencing in musical history. There’s no easy way to rectify that, however, since “There’s A World” would sound awful on just about any album. “There’s A World” lets the strings, woodwinds and percussion blast through in such a way that the listener is forced to jump to the next track. Skippable tracks are not allowed on classic albums, and “There’s A World” is the most glaring reason as to why Harvest isn’t the hot shit that some middlebrow artists and critics will have you believe.
Harvest represents the very best and worst of Young’s efforts. Also, somewhere in the middle there are a handful of average tracks that simply sit there and take up valuable space (“Are You Ready For The Country,” “Alabama” and “Words”). In reality, Harvest is a seven, not a 10.
A better place to start, for all you Neil newbies, is 1970’s After The Gold Rush, which neatly summarizes all of his most worthy attributes, from whimpy sci-fi protest folk (“After The Gold Rush”) to angry, thudding barn-stompers (“Southern Man”) to glorious, group-sing folk pop (“Cripple Creek Ferry”) and everywhere in between. Not a faulty track of the whole batch, and the real place to start for Neil lovers.
Underrated: Time Fades Away
After the incredible success of Harvest, Young and his bandmates took to the road - tired, angry and strung out. In a move that said “classic Neil” all over it, Young refused to meet the audience’s expectations of gooey radio folk like “Heart Of Gold” and “Out On The Weekend” and instead performed snarling, ragged, pissed off new songs that were foreign to the typical Neil Young fan. Young brought along some recording equipment and compiled performances from several different shows. The result was Neil Young’s first live album, Time Fades Away. It was a huge critical and commercial flop.
Time Fades Away is an unapologetically bitter, pessimistic album – one in which Young has since rejected, and refused to release beyond it’s original vinyl form. Part of the reason may be that it is so raw emotionally, or maybe because the album is steeped in heroin use (guitarist Danny Whitton OD’d just prior to this tour) or maybe it’s because many of the more raucous songs are performed so raggedly that Neil secretly wishes that he had first put more polished versions to tape. Yes, it’s a mess, but it’s a wonderful, engrossing mess.
The title track opens the album, with a dumb-as-a-bowl-of-mice honky tonk stomp, strained harmonies and Young screeching “14 junkies, too weak to work.” It’s a great indicator as to where the rest of the album is going, and the saloon piano implies an angry, electric wild west that is best not remembered to fondly.
“Journey Through The Past,” “Love in Mind” and “The Bridge” are the three ballads that make up Time Fades Away. The first recalls “After The Gold Rush” melodically, but there’s more sadness and regret here, and none of the timely, hippy-dippy gobbledygook that makes up “Gold Rush.” “Love In Mind” (streaming below) is a short, tender piano ballad that boasts a stunning middle third where Young asks himself “What am I doing here?” It’s so moving that the 20-second passage could very likely eclipse the whole of Young’s 70s output. “The Bridge” runs along the same lines, sonically, but its pre-chorus build make the song feel like a full band performance as opposed to a mere solo track.
“This’ll be kind of experimental,” concludes Neil before kicking into the rousing, bluesy “Yonder Stands The Sinner.” Young screeches and roars, while the band howls (literally) and jams behind him. It’s greasy stuff, but it’s why we love Neil so durn much. “L.A.” is another aggro song that sports some slick slide guitar and a mood-altering retardando on the chorus. It’s simultaneously the most and least predictable Young song I’ve heard. The verses will be nothing new for those brought up on “Keep On Rocking In The Free World,” but the chorus’ tempo drag and final shots make this an unheralded Neil classic.
“Don’t Be Denied” (streaming below) finds Neil in mid-tempo power pop mode (almost). This is a facet of Neil’s songwriting that gets the most overlooked, I believe. Along with “Denied,” songs like “Walk On” from On The Beach and even the slightly folksier “Cripple Creek Ferry” boast a more upbeat demeanor, complete sing-along vocals and guitar hooks. They are the best of Young’s songs, and this is no exception. “Last Dance” ends the live album on a fairly downcast note, but it’s got the dirge quality that defines some of Neil’s best extended jams.
Time Fades Away was a far cry from the feel good hit-making of Harvest, and the listening public expressed that with a collective rejection of the album, but Time marks the beginning of an interesting and perhaps the most creatively rewarding period in Young’s career. Gone were the ultra crisp, wistful tunes of early Neil. This was an angry Neil, witnessing first hand the decadence and decay of the 70s. Surrounded by bad vibes and deadly dealings, Young documented his experiences with the infamous “doom” trilogy, which began with this album and includes 1974’s On The Beach and 1975’s Tonight’s The Night. Time ain’t pretty, but it’s a hell of document of 70s excess and paranoia. Time’s tracks don’t glisten like the best of Harvest, but even at it’s worst, the live album doesn’t succumb to the same depths. It’s a mood piece, and for those in the mood to hear Neil Young at his rawest, it’s the album of choice. Now where’s the petition to get this thing released on CD?
