QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “It's very difficult to go back to your body. You know that bit about without the body, we don't exist? You forget that! It's almost like we can just live in our heads.” — Harry Nilsson

SONG OF THE WEEK: “Where to Begin” — My Morning Jacket

Neil Young
Prairie Wind
2005
Reprise

Head out on Highway 2 from the Twin Cities toward Grand Forks, past the sprawling, soulless suburbs and endless, intrusive billboards. Breeze alongside the shrinking farm ands, through countless tiny, dying towns and one-horse speed-traps until you reach Devil’s Lake, North Dakota. Take a right, then point the nose of your metal beast north to Canada—zip through Calvin, up across the border and beyond the blink-of-an-eye burgh called Crystal City. From there, it’s a hop, skip and a jump to the wheat-laden prairie home Neil Young sings and writes about on his latest album.

Cypress River—aka “The Best Little Town On The Prairie”—lies on a lonesome, wind-swept stretch of land about 130 km southwest of Winnipeg. With a population of 240, a couple of churches, stores and modest, well-kept homes, it’d be pretty easy to miss. The town fathers describe the local landscape as “rock strewn hills, wetlands, forested sandy lands, and flat prairie fields,” and they sound pretty damn proud of it. Neil, who was born in Toronto and moved to the Winnipeg area as a child, sounds like he misses the hell out of it.

It’s not so surprising, really, that as he reaches 60 years-old, Young finds himself pining for the simpler, more visceral days of his youth. Having spent the first part of his life trying desperately to escape the work-a-day world he was born into—even going so far as driving a hearse to Southern California—he’s got every right to wonder if maybe life might be a bit easier to swallow outside of the roar and din of modern American society. On Prairie Wind, he explores this theme, as well as the loss of his father, the various paths he’s chosen over the years, and the inevitable dues one must pay in the end.

When he wrote and recorded Harvest, his fourth album, Young was a fledgling, 26 year-old solo artist. He’d already written a slew of classics-to-be, both with Buffalo Springfield and CSNY, but in terms of life and love experience, he was still a kid. The songs populating the album belied that fact, though—from the overwhelmingly melancholic opening track, “Out On The Weekend,” through the longing, love-hungry tales wending through the title cut, “Old Man” and “A Man Needs A Maid,” the record showcased an old soul with the young man’s blues—a feat rarely accomplished in pop music.

Backed by The Stray Gators—Tim Drummond, Kenny Buttrey and legendary pedal steel whiz Ben Keith—and a gaggle of all-star guests, Young created a country-rock masterpiece that became so popular and misunderstood that he changed musical directions (he once said about Harvest that it was so middle-of-the-road that he purposely steered his musical vehicle into the ditch thereafter) countless times in the ensuing years. 1992’s Harvest Moon found him, at mid-life, looking back on the trials and tribulations he and many of his peers had experienced in the ensuing years.

Prairie Wind, besides having exactly the same number of cuts (10) both of the Harvests did, also sees Young given to (sometimes harsh) self-examination and thoughtful retrospect. It also features the talents of Ben Keith again, on dobro, pedal steel and slide guitar. Keith is joined in backing Young by the legendary Spooner Oldham on piano, Hammond B3 organ and Wurlitzer electric piano, bassist Rick Rosas, and drummers Karl Himmel and Chad Cromwell. Like its two predecessors, Prairie Wind features special guests, including the awe-inspiring Emmylou Harris and Young’s wife, Pegi, as well as several string-and-horn-augmented cuts.

Kicking off with the soulful “The Painter,” Young immediately re-establishes the weeping, moaning grooves of both Harvest and H.M.—Keith’s pedal steel ringing out like the ghostly cries of an old prairie farmer on a cold Canadian evening. “No Wonder” has more of a bite—Oldham’s keyboards sidling up next to sharp snare cracks and Young’s snarling electric guitar. Over this, he sings of recent events (“That song from 9/11 keeps ringin’ in my head/ I’ll always remember something Chris Rock said/ Don’t send no more candles/ No matter what you do ...”), then lets his thoughts wander into deeper waters.

“Falling Off The Face Of The Earth,” an inspirational tribute to true love, eases in on soft acoustic strumming with Young intoning reverently: “I just want to thank you/ For all of the things that you’ve done ...” “Far From Home” finds the horn section kicking in, Young blowing hard on his harp and reminiscing about his halcyon youth: “Those were the good old family times/ That left a big mark on me,” he boasts, then makes his real intentions clear: “Bury me out on the prairie/ Where the buffalo used to roam/ Where the Canada geese once filled the sky/ And then I won’t be far from home ...”

The title track rolls out over grim acoustic guitar and a dire horn section, Oldham matching Young’s harp licks with great, chuffing blasts of Hammond organ: “I try to remember what my daddy said/ Before too much time took away his head ...” Here Young not only eulogizes his late father and touches upon the dementia he suffered before his passing, but also finds himself in a state of wonderment over the fantastic gifts—musical, familial, and geographical—that were passed down to him.

“This Old Guitar” could’ve been an outtake from Harvest Moon; indeed, some of the acoustic guitar lines are almost note-for-note the same. The subject matter, though, is straight forward: Young is not only celebrating his beloved instrument (“This old guitar ain’t mine to keep/ Just takin’ care of it now/ It’s been around for years an’ years/ Just waitin’ in its old case/ It’s been up and down the country roads, it’s brought a tear and a smile”) but also the various styles and genres he’s conquered along the way. With angelic backing vocals from Emmylou Harris and lyrics that match most from the original Harvest, this track is probably the strongest in a batch of mighty new Young tunes.

Closing with the elegiac, piano-driven ballad “When God Made Me,” Neil poses the age-old question of whose God is the right God: “Was He planning only for believers/ Or for those who just had faith?/ Did He envision all the wars that were fought in His name?/ Did He think there was only one way/ To be close to Him?/ When God made me ...” Probably the most confrontational song on the record, it’s also the most beautiful, and thought-provoking, number he’s written in some time. Though Young has proven to be a well-informed, necessary voice during times of crises and tragedy over the years (“Ohio,” “Southern Man,” “Let’s Roll,” etc. etc. etc.), this tune strikes the deepest chord, as he plants a well-deserved arrow right into the dark heart of modern fundamentalism, religious extremism and mindless moral servitude.

Other than the overt musical style, there’s really no stand-out connection here to the first Harvest album, beyond the fact that it finds that same man—now fully-grown both mentally and spiritually—ready, able, and willing to look back with brutal honesty and forward with a longing for a full-circle return to his roots. Funny thing is, he probably already said it best back then, when we (and maybe he) thought he was singing to his own father.

Maybe he was really singing to his future self when he wrote the words: “Old man, look at my life, I’m a lot like you were ... live alone in a paradise that makes me think of two/ Love lost, such a cost, give me things that don’t get lost/ Like a coin that won’t get tossed, rollin’ home to you/ Old man, take a look at my life/ I’m a lot like you/ I need someone to love me the whole day through/ Ah, one look in my eyes, and you can tell that’s true ...”

Prairie Wind will be available on CD and DVD on September 27. Vinyl copies should hit stores a week earlier. For more info and tour dates, check out NeilYoung.com.

GIG OF THE WEEK: Check out the new acoustic night, Acoustic Crash, at the 331 each and every Sunday night. The line-up for Sun., Sept. 25, includes Prokiev, Andy Keroakos (of The Bloodshot and Howlin’ Andy Hound fame) and host Beight. Tunes kick off at 9 p.m.. Be there!

We’re outta space again, gang. Tune in again right here for more of the same. Until we meet again—make yer own damn news.

If you have local music news/gigs/events you’d like to see listed in this column, or you’d just like to learn how to really bite the bullet, send replies to: Tmygunn777@peoplepc.com. ||