NEIL AND HORSE GIVE OLD SONGS NEW LIFE

AMERICANA

Neil Young and Crazy Horse

Even though Americana features old folk songs Neil Young himself did not write, the way he plays them with Crazy Horse make them rock as hard as any of his best.

           

Out of the eleven songs on the album, five or six in particular stand out. I consider that an amazing ratio, because some great bands have only one or two songs worth repeatedly hearing on a given album. If you gravitate toward “Powderfinger,” “Cortez the Killer,” and “Love and Only Love” for the power-groove that Neil and only Neil gets, and only with Crazy Horse, you’ll understand exactly what I mean.

           

Frank Sampedro’s rhythm guitar, Billy Talbot’s bass, and Ralph Molina’s drums form the signature sound with Neil’s lead guitar and earnest nasal vocals that unearth “Oh Susannah” and “Clementine” and send them hiking up their skirts and dancing away on fresh legs.

          

 It would be a dandy of an album to have on vinyl. Nice cover with what looks like Neil and the boys’ faces superimposed over four Native Americans posing in a car about a hundred-plus years ago. I couldn’t find online whether one of those guys is Crazy Horse, but I did find that the cover design comes from Tom Wilkes, who did covers for the Rolling Stones and George Harrison, among others. Died three years ago, turns out.

           

The last time Neil put out an album with Crazy Horse was 2003's Greendale. That’s a noble project with fantastic songs, but the songs don’t have that Crazy Horse sound. (I think Frank might have skipped out on that one, actually, which would account for things entirely.)

           

The best Neil and Crazy Horse album prior to this one, Ragged Glory came out at a time when, looking back on it, Neil was in his prime, and yet even that album was considered some kind of comeback because he’d played on stage with Pearl Jam and showed everybody how it’s done.

           

Here he’s done it again. Except no Pearl Jam, of course, for many years now. “Travel On,” “High Flyin’ Bird,” “Jesus’ Chariot"--listening to Neil make a song his own is like watching Bruce Lee put together parts of different martial arts and making something more.

           

Increasingly, rock stars are becoming like Jedi knights. Which is to say that more and more we’re getting less and less. The kid that I talked to at the record store had actually never even heard of Neil Young. Probably ditto with Jedi knights. But that’s okay with me. I’ve never once watched an episode of “American Idol.”

DYLAN'S "TEMPEST" A NEW BEST

Bob Dylan’s thirty-fifth studio album offers an upbeat old-time blues and bluegrass-sound, and deals with themes of death with fierce grace.

           

The gravelly growl of the voice of experience, ragged, resonant, and reference-rich. Dylan’s double-entendre-laden and cracked, sardonic whispers roll by in couplets tumbleweed-like.

           

On recognizing the “forests of the night” allusion to William Blake’s “The Tyger,” glee scarcely contained.

           

The beer garden rhythm of the album’s namesake (and yes, I still call them namesakes) can’t help but slosh invisible upraised steins—for almost fourteen minutes! Though the lyrics concern the oft-dredged, always applicable disaster of The Titanic, the sound just says good times.

           

The second song, “Soon After Midnight,” is, at three minutes and twenty-eight seconds, the shortest and the sweetest of the bunch. “Scarlet Town” features banjos, bluegrass, and—like all of the ten songs on Tempest—plenty of focus on the words.

           

Then again, compare “Early Roman Kings” with Muddy Waters’ “Mannish Boy” and hear in the unmistakable beat Bob’s homage to the great blues legend. He’s that old guy now.

           

Haunting and hypnotic, “Tin Angel” paves the way for “Roll On John,” Dylan’s ode to John Lennon.

           

“Tempest” is not a depressing album at all. Neither is it his jauntiest. Even if you’ve never heard of the guy, hey, it’s at least decent background music. 

           

“We cried on a cold and frosty morn,” says the guy who wrote “Blowin’ in the Wind” in his patented nasal sandpaper hiss. “We cried because our souls were torn / So much for these tears / So much for these long and wasted years.” Baby Boomers take note: Bob makes being 71 hip.

           

To be sure, Blonde On Blonde is still his best studio album. And he’s got some that I don’t think even he can stand.

           

But Tempest ranks high, even calling to mind Shakespeare’s play of the same name. Prospero-like, the venerable poet pulls together veritable strands right out of his career, so to speak.

           

And behold, a marvel!

NEW VAN HALEN RINGS TRUE

 

 

          

Van Halen, with David Lee Roth, has a new album out that’s just as good as their best.

           

We’ve been waiting twenty-eight years for this album.

           

And it’s totally worth it!

           

The only dude missing from the picture is the only expendable one, really. Michael Anthony hooked up with Sammy Hagar and Joe Satriani to form Chickenfoot, so Eddie Van Halen’s wee bairn Wolfgang plays bass, instead. I don’t know that Wolf plays hugely better that Michael Anthony, but he’s definitely at least as good.

          

 A Different Kind of Truth boasts thirteen songs, twelve of which are fast enough and loud enough to compare favorably alongside the Ramones. Like a fine cheese, Van Halen has only sharpened with age.

           

“Tattoo,” “You and Your Blues,” “Blood and Fire,” and “As Is” all stand out in particular as examples of what’s missing in rock n’ roll today. In an age when most of what is called new music is actually mere dancing, Van Halen’s having a blast.

           

Their first album, plus Women and Children First and Fair Warning, form the band’s core body of work. The second album has some weak spots, as does Diver Down–“Happy Trails” exemplifies the kind of filler that took them in a wrong direction–and {1984} uses too much synthesizer. Those are all good albums. But A Different Kind of Truth ranks right up there with their top material.

           

No pics of the group when you buy the CD. Apparently they don’t want to be accused of packing aging in the packaging. But they do include the lyrics, now. They never used to do that.

           

“Big River” mentions Credence Clearwater Revival and Tina Turner. “You and Your Blues” refers specifically to the Rolling Stones’ “19^th Nervous Breakdown.” Listen to “Stay Frosty,” which is the one sort of comparatively subdued track, and see if you hear a taste of Led Zep’s “Friends,” off their third album.

          

 That’s right. I’d like you to see if you can hear a taste.

           

Hey, blame it on spring. It’s in the air--getting drowned-out by Van Halen!