There are times when I'm actually quite proud to live in this odd little place. The other night, for only the second time in my life, I actually was able to see Neil Young in concert. It was the first time since I saw him on a bizarre one man electric show during one of his experimental periods in the early 80s. This was also, unbelievably, his first performance in Vermont in his long and unmatched career. He seemed remarkably happy to be here, and a lot of this relates to the unabashedly liberal politics of the state and the fact that VT is leading the fight against GMO - hence the name of his album The Monsanto Years. He gave $100,000 from the proceeds of the concert to back Vermont's legal fight. In the end he is a man of principle, and that's odd in the today's world of media whores.
Here's a playlist, which I wanted to get down before it faded away.
After the Gold Rush
Heart of Gold
Long May Your Run
Old Man
Mother Earth (Natural Anthem)
Out On the Weekend
Unknown Legend
Only Love Can Break Your Heart
From Hank to Hendrix
Harvest Moon
Wolf Moon
Words
Looking' For A Love
Moonlight in Vermont
A Rock Star Bucks a Coffee Shop
People Want To Hear About Love
A New Day for Love
Country Home
Down By The River
Workin' Man
Monsanto Years
Love And Only Love
Random reflections. The experience is still too unsettled and raw for the construction of a unified essay; plus, I"m taking time away from grading and my own research/writing, but maybe I'll revisit this later.
I got really emotional as soon as soon as he appeared on stage and started singing After The Gold Rush. Yes, I cried. Growing up out in the middle of nowhere in southern Indiana he meant everything to me. It was having someone out there who completely got the sense of alienation, but also oddly hope, that I felt. I've listened to songs like Helpless probably tens of thousands of times, and they still give me goosebumps. To see him, for what may be the last time (neither of us are getting in younger) was practically overpowering. I just feel that for years his music kept me focused. I think my mom was afraid that I spent way too much time listening to depressing music, but it actually had exactly the opposite impact. It taught me that its OK to be sad, and that sitting in the dark quietly reflecting on the absurdity and cruelty of life, is actually a very healthy thing; and that in the end it gives you a greater love and appreciation for the inherent beauty of life.
Young can still bring it. He's 69, and spent three hours thrashing with Promise of the Real, and a bunch of guys who are thirty or forty years younger than him. Their versions of Down By The River and Love and Only Love were incendiary.
Before the show Kelly and I were enjoying some fried dough when Daryl Hannah walked up and asked us questions about it, mainly whether ir was sweet or savory and how it was made. The best part of the experience was that Kelly clearly had no idea who it was, and when I told her after Hannah walked away she initially didn't believe me. I had one of those odd experiences where within about seven nano-seconds I had three contradictory experiences: shit, that's Daryl Hannah; wait, that can't be Daryl Hannah; oh, yeah, that makes perfect sense, it's Daryl Hannah. My only regret is that I didn't offer her some of the fried dough.
I had a great time with the excellent Kelly Thomas. She's quite the Neil Young fan herself, which I discovered a couple years ago and I left her in possession of some of my NY CDs when I took off for the UAE for a year. I thought for a long time that she really detested me (as many people do, quite appropriately), but now we've become great friends. She's a good, gentle soul.
He played several songs that I would not have bet a tired dime that he would actually play in concert. I liked that he play Words (Between The Lines of Age). It's a song which I love a lot more in its rough form (a couple of his albums replicate twenty minute versions where he is tinkering with it, which better displays the complexity of the song) as compared to the final polished version. He also played Lookin' For A Love. It's rare to hear a song off Zuma other than Cortez the Killer.
I actually sort of liked the new songs from the Monsanto Years album. They're a bit preachy, but you have to admire the fact that at 69 he's still passionate about things and won't back down.
Doubtless, more later, but it was an amazing night. It made me feel that at 55 I can still accomplish things, and that, to paraphrase a line from one of his new songs, it's a bad day for doing nothin'.
Here's a playlist, which I wanted to get down before it faded away.
After the Gold Rush
Heart of Gold
Long May Your Run
Old Man
Mother Earth (Natural Anthem)
Out On the Weekend
Unknown Legend
Only Love Can Break Your Heart
From Hank to Hendrix
Harvest Moon
Wolf Moon
Words
Looking' For A Love
Moonlight in Vermont
A Rock Star Bucks a Coffee Shop
People Want To Hear About Love
A New Day for Love
Country Home
Down By The River
Workin' Man
Monsanto Years
Love And Only Love
Random reflections. The experience is still too unsettled and raw for the construction of a unified essay; plus, I"m taking time away from grading and my own research/writing, but maybe I'll revisit this later.
I got really emotional as soon as soon as he appeared on stage and started singing After The Gold Rush. Yes, I cried. Growing up out in the middle of nowhere in southern Indiana he meant everything to me. It was having someone out there who completely got the sense of alienation, but also oddly hope, that I felt. I've listened to songs like Helpless probably tens of thousands of times, and they still give me goosebumps. To see him, for what may be the last time (neither of us are getting in younger) was practically overpowering. I just feel that for years his music kept me focused. I think my mom was afraid that I spent way too much time listening to depressing music, but it actually had exactly the opposite impact. It taught me that its OK to be sad, and that sitting in the dark quietly reflecting on the absurdity and cruelty of life, is actually a very healthy thing; and that in the end it gives you a greater love and appreciation for the inherent beauty of life.
Young can still bring it. He's 69, and spent three hours thrashing with Promise of the Real, and a bunch of guys who are thirty or forty years younger than him. Their versions of Down By The River and Love and Only Love were incendiary.
Before the show Kelly and I were enjoying some fried dough when Daryl Hannah walked up and asked us questions about it, mainly whether ir was sweet or savory and how it was made. The best part of the experience was that Kelly clearly had no idea who it was, and when I told her after Hannah walked away she initially didn't believe me. I had one of those odd experiences where within about seven nano-seconds I had three contradictory experiences: shit, that's Daryl Hannah; wait, that can't be Daryl Hannah; oh, yeah, that makes perfect sense, it's Daryl Hannah. My only regret is that I didn't offer her some of the fried dough.
I had a great time with the excellent Kelly Thomas. She's quite the Neil Young fan herself, which I discovered a couple years ago and I left her in possession of some of my NY CDs when I took off for the UAE for a year. I thought for a long time that she really detested me (as many people do, quite appropriately), but now we've become great friends. She's a good, gentle soul.
He played several songs that I would not have bet a tired dime that he would actually play in concert. I liked that he play Words (Between The Lines of Age). It's a song which I love a lot more in its rough form (a couple of his albums replicate twenty minute versions where he is tinkering with it, which better displays the complexity of the song) as compared to the final polished version. He also played Lookin' For A Love. It's rare to hear a song off Zuma other than Cortez the Killer.
I actually sort of liked the new songs from the Monsanto Years album. They're a bit preachy, but you have to admire the fact that at 69 he's still passionate about things and won't back down.
Doubtless, more later, but it was an amazing night. It made me feel that at 55 I can still accomplish things, and that, to paraphrase a line from one of his new songs, it's a bad day for doing nothin'.
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| The excellent Kelly Thomas on the way to get fried dough, and face mysterious destiny. |
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| Kelly's great friends Chris and Carolyn. I didn't get to spend enough time with them, but they seem like great folks. I did get to chat with Carolyn about Young and Lucinda Williams, and these are obviously essential foundations of an excellent person. |
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| It was odd, in some ways, to have the concert at the Fairgrounds, but we're a small state and this is our biggest venue, which may also explain why Young had never made it to Vermont before the other night. It was a night that threatened storms, but in the end only provided a wonderful backdrop to an amazing concert. The lightning in the distance made the end of the concert even better. |
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| A terrible picture, but an amazing moment. Neil's first song was After The Gold Rush, with the requisite replacement of "in the 1970's" with "in the 21st century." I cried as soon as he started singing. It's hard to express what his music has meant to me over the decades. |
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