How do you archive someone who’s still relevant and still produces?
Neil Young’s found a way. In the midst of all the live archival stuff
that’s been falling from hyper rust heaven, the singer-songwriter-activist-workaholic
keeps pumping out new titles as if he’s been reborn with new powers of
creation. Now, just to shake things up in his own shaky way, Neil Young comes along with
Chrome Dreams II, the sequel to Chrome Dreams,
an album slated for 1976 that was never released. While bits and pieces from
the intended record have filtered out in one form or another, the follow-up
is a fresh batch of tunes that borrows bits and pieces of Young’s diverse
range of stylistic dalliances to create an expressive and moody album addressing
the human condition.
For Chrome Dreams II, Young relies on minimal support, enlisting
Crazy Horse drummer Ralph Molina, pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith, and bassist
Rick Rosas to help dot the I’s and spackle the holes where and when they
can. “Beautiful Bluebird,” the record’s opening track, sounds
like it flew in from eating scraps at the Harvest wrap party
— simple, elegant and sure to please the romantics. Drowning in wild west
reverberation, “Boxcar” emanates from the gut, the head and the
heart, hiking the trails of the Appalachians in search of redemption. Or maybe
it just stems from the singer’s love of trains, as the lyrics illustrate:
“I’m just a passenger on this old freight train/I ride a boxcar
through the night.”
At the center of Chrome Dreams II is Young’s 18-minute
opus with the rather extraordinary title of “Ordinary People.” Frank
“Poncho” Sampedro joins in on second guitar, and the execution is
pure Crazy Horse. The arrangements seem less ragged than what the Horse grinds
out; the smooth curvature of the verses almost CSNY. Young’s stinging
leads play leap frog with the horn section as the singer zeros in on a shady underground of war lords, gun runners, business men, politicians
and crooked doers of evil — all in spite of ordinary people. Just as your
head settles in the fairy gold dust of the epic, Young woos the weary
soul ala “Shining Light,” a gospel-like feel goodie that’ll
have you swaying and swinging bountiful mugs filled with ale like a pirate on
holiday. “The Believer” keeps those positive vibes flowing, recalling
Young’s happy-go-lucky-turns on 2002’s Are You Passionate?
Then, it’s time to let loose with “Spirit Road” and “Dirty
Old Man,” a pair of kick-in-the-dirt rockers that sound the alarm of Young’s
handle on the loud and restless. “Even After” provides the needed
pause your ears yearn for as it lazily brushes its ambling melody across a layer
of acoustic magnificence. And you wonder if Hank Williams is listening and why
in the hell can’t the rest of today’s country music be this atmospheric
and reverential. Moving on, Young isn’t done making noise, which he proceeds
to do without hesitation on another multiple minute saga called “No Hidden
Path.” Of course, no record is complete without a happy and hopeful ending.
To that end, Young delivers the uplifting “The Way,” which gets its bounce
from The Young People’s Chorus Of New York City. Yes, it’s time
to breathe another sigh of relief that Neil Young is still making new music.
The spiritual essence of Chrome Dreams II is almost enough
to save the album from its faults, which Young fans work hard to pinpoint on
every release due largely to the man’s sheer volume of work. A select
panel of armchair rock and roll scholars even argue that Young should cut down
on all the new activity, and instead devote his energies to the Archives
project, which is only now coming out in small doses. And again, you have to
ask: How do you archive someone who’s still relevant and still produces?
In Neil Young’s world, a journey through the past still allows the muse to drop in now and
then.
~ Shawn Perry
