Dream Comfort Memory Despair: Happy 75th birthday Neil Young
By 
I discovered Neil Young 40 years ago, in the heart of a Michigan winter (back when Michigan winters were still the real deal). I had just broken up with my first love, and I was in a bad place. One of my brothers had a copy of Harvest, and for some reason I put it on the stereophonic turntable.
This is the first song I heard.
I thought: This guy actually sounds more depressed than I am, which somehow made me feel much better for at least a few minutes.
Since then Neil for me has often been like Robert Frost’s definition of home: When you have to go there, he has to take you in.
De gustibus etc., but I would argue that Young is the single most interesting musical figure of the rock and roll era. His remarkably eclectic musical career is impossible to sum up in a blog post, so I’m just going to throw out a couple of dozen great Neil songs, mostly lesser known, that represent some though far from all the genres he’s mined, while pursuing what is now 55 years of relentless musical experimentation.
I’ve Been Waiting For You (1968)
A psychedelic rocker that captures the spirit of the Laurel Canyon music scene as well as anything. Check out the guitar solo at 1:16.
Cowgirl in the Sand (1969)
Epic ten-minute guitar jam that features Neil’s ability to make romantic infatuation sound like a key to the doors of perception. Purple words on a grey background. This live version features his band Crazy Horse at its most frenetic.
After the Gold Rush (1970)
Mystical sci-fi with a french horn interlude [ETA: Nigel Tufnel informs me this is actually a flugelhorn]. Epitomizes Young’s weird gnomic side, which pairs perfectly with his endlessly quirky singing voice.
Don’t Let It Bring You Down (1970)
Sure Neil, whatever you say. (At a CSN&Y concert: “Here’s a song guaranteed to bring you right down. It’s called ‘Don’t Let it Bring You Down.'”)
“It’s only castles burning” should be the official lyric of 2020.
Old Man (1971)
The pedal steel guitar in this song is like a winter wind blowing through an Alberta wheat field. You’ve heard it lots of times; listen to it again.
Last Dance (1972)
After the massive commercial success of the Harvest album, Young characteristically decided that selling lots of records was bad for Mr. Soul: “‘Heart of Gold’ “put me in the middle of the road. Traveling there soon became a bore, so I headed for the ditch.”
A 15-year-old Cameron Crowe wrote about how he was at the concert where this apocalyptic little number was unleashed on an unsuspecting audience. I played this pretty loud a week ago last Tuesday night, when things seemed to be heading al sur. It won’t be the last time.
Albuquerque (1973)
Tonight’s the Night is Neil’s bleakest, drunkest, and arguably best album. Naturally the record company initially refused to even release it.
Revolution Blues (1974)
I hear that Laurel Canyon is full of famous stars. Rick Danko and Levon Helm make a hell of a backing Band. Scary good.
Motion Pictures (1974)
This sounds like everyone involved in the performance might pass out or possibly die before they get to the end of the song. “I’d rather start all over again” sums up Neil’s career in six words.
On the Beach (1974)
“Though my problems are meaningless, that don’t make them go away” is perfect description of both postmodernism and low grade depression, assuming there’s a difference.
Campaigner (1974)
Written minutes after watching Richard Nixon’s resignation speech on a tour bus TV. Somehow manages to make its subject sympathetic for three minutes and twenty hypnotic seconds.
Will to Love (1975)
Weird Neil is the best Neil. Robert Christgau said this song written from the perspective of a salmon trying to swim upstream to spawn reminded him more of somebody masturbating in front of a fireplace, which I take is a judgment produced by what economists call asymmetric information effects (RIP Jeff Toobin).
Cortez the Killer (1975)
I’ve always thought this would be the ideal soundtrack for the last scene of Werner Herzog’s “Aguirre, The Wrath of God.”
Give Me Strength (1976)
A perfect love song. Unreleased for 40 years.
Four Strong Winds (1978)
A cover that sounds more like Neil than even Neil.
Powderfinger (1978)
What the hell is going on here? Neil turning some sort of history into some sort of mystical epic.
Sedan Delivery (1978)
When punk music arrived on the scene, all the 1960s icons were like “what is this noise?” Neil figured if they hated it something worth checking out must be going on.
Little Wing (1981)
Epitomizes Young’s ability to convey the sense that he’s in possession of some gnostic secret of infinite value (“The winter is the best time of them all.”)
Barstool Blues (original 1975; concert performance 1999)
And I might live a thousand years before I know what this means. Live version is hypnotic guitar jam that should go on forever; studio version is a two minute and fifty-nine second anthem for a 3 AM drunken existential crisis: your choice.
Ordinary People (1988)
Neil was going on Cletus safaris before Cletus safaris were cool.
Crime in the City (Sixty to Zero Part I)
Inadvertently listened to this while watching the Rodney King riots live on the TV. Seemed prophetic, as Neil often will.
Country Home (1990)
We got both kinds of music.
Natural Beauty (1992)
It’s just a hippie dream, but a beautiful one.
Change Your Mind (1994)
Haunted by the spirit of Kurt Cobain’s suicide note (“It’s better to burn out than to rust.”). Neil’s epic jams don’t always work but when they do you realize the wait was worth it.
I’m the Ocean (1995)
Recorded with Pearl Jam. Eddie Vedder: “It’s one thing to watch the lion in the cage and another to be inside it.”
Music Arcade (1996)
What I always think of when I give a panhandler money, which is what we call beggars in our exceptional nation.
Razor Love (1999)
On the road there’s no place like home.
Be the Rain (2003)
An anthem for the age. This man is 58.
Roger and Out (2006)
Knocking on Heaven’s Door reworked into my favorite Vietnam song. T.S. Eliot: “Bad poets imitate; good poets steal.”
ETA: A music professor writes: “Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” (1973) is if anything a rewrite of Neil Young’s “Helpless” (1970). So I don’t think it’s fair to say that Young is stealing from Dylan on “Roger and Out,” he could be stealing from himself!”
I could just as easily post another 30 songs that are just as good, and another 30 after that.
I hope this inspires somebody to discover Young’s music, and somebody else to return to it.