Published on Mar 2, 1998
With the vastness of the Pierce Archives and my constant desire
to feature different artists on these pages, often worthy artists
and albums get shafted for no good reason. Neil Young has only
graced these pages twice in our almost 14 months online, and I
really have no good explanation why this is so.
So, into the Archives (where we’re still in mourning over Dave
Coutts’s being fired from Talk Show), and out with
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, Young’s 1969 effort, and
his first with Crazy Horse. And while this album features a few
rough edges, it still is one of Young’s most enjoyable efforts
ever.
With a rhythm section like Ralph Molina and Billy Talbot (who
still perform with Young), and a guitarist like Danny Whitten
(whose drug overdose death prompted Young to write
Tonight’s The Night), there was little that Young could do
wrong. This is evidenced in the opening song “Cinammon Girl,” a
track which remains one of my favorite songs to hear when I’m
driving. Young has rarely sounded this good on vocals, and the
harmony work featured here is incredible. Plus, Young is the only
person I know of who can get away with a one-note guitar solo and
not have critics like me piss on him.
The power continues throughout the all-too-short first half of
the album. The title track is an interesting dive into
country-fried rock, and while it might not have been a song
featured on the radio all these years, it is no less enjoyable.
“Down By The River” is a slice of controlled panic and emotion all
wrapped up in a nine-minute package. While Young might have been
able to cut out some of the guitar noodling, I don’t think it hurts
to have left it in. And the beauty of Young’s songwriting and
singing comes forth on “Round & Round” (with harmony vocals
from Robin Lane). For almost twenty minutes, Young is able to make
you forget he was ever in Buffalo Springfield or ever played with
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.
But the energy level doesn’t quite carry over to side two of
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. “Cowgirl In The Sand” seems
to try to recapture the glory of excess found on “Down By The
River”, and while it passes quickly for a ten-minute track, the
magic just isn’t there. “The Losing End” and “Running Dry” both
aren’t bad songs, but they don’t stand up next to Young’s best
work.
But in the grand scheme of things, one really can’t blame Young
or his band. Young has always been an artist in transition, and he
was still dealing with the dissolution of Buffalo Springfield while
trying to bang out a name for himself. And I know that “Cowgirl In
The Sand” is considered to be a classic from Young – it just
doesn’t light any fires under me. I didn’t say it was
bad – I’ll reserve those cracks for his… whoops, getting a
little ahead of myself.
The real danger in any of Young’s albums is that you really
don’t know what to expect when you first drop the needle on the
vinyl – you have to be willing to allow yourself to be placed in
the passenger seat for Young’s wild rides. This is really easy to
do with most of
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere – it’s not often I find
myself looking forward to listening to a nine-minute song
repeatedly.
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is one of the better choices
for you to pick up if you’re wanting to find out more about Young
than the hits we hear on the radio or you found on
Decade. If anything, the disappointments on the second side
are still better than the best moments of some flash-in-the-pan
bands of today.