With "Silver and Gold" Neil Young walks a fine line. Between boring, nostalgic has-beenism and heard-it-before, turning-a-new-pagism. Know what I mean?
Seems to me, when it comes to classic rock legends still playing these days, there are two types. Those who, for whatever reason, can't accept the fact that their heydays have passed and, with graying hair and failed marriages, continue to beat themselves up on the road. And those whose need for acceptance has them "bending with the breeze" and entertaining from the hip bandwagon.
I'll put it this way: I recently saw Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton's tours when they came through. Ol' Bob tried his best to kindle that old flame, crooning his wretched cords like always and creeping around in those same pointy boots he wore for "Highway 61."
Mr. Clapton went the other way. His tour, sponsored by the rock and roll aficionados at Lexus, shimmers with a stellar orchestra and catchy riffs for his baby boomers in the crowd.
Then there's Neil Young.
Neil never lost his dignity. He's come real close, though. There've been some duds -- "Rockin' in the Free World" was cool but Godfather of Grunge? -- but, despite these minor embarrassments, Neil's still got it.
"Silver and Gold" proves it. It's got the Neil Young sound, that countrified acoustic rock scratched out with session players, that comfortable, sober feel. He still can't sing. Still sounds like a wheezing goose attempting to push its vocal range. Still talking about his Old Man who "went walkin' one day/Pushin tall weeds right out of his way." Still a little gritty and washed out, but that's the way I like my Neil Young.
But that's not it. If it were, "Silver and Gold" would be pathetic and stagnant. As it is, the album moves. The wise old sage is casting his spell for the future.
Or maybe he's not going anywhere. Maybe he's just doing his thing; you can take it or leave it. He says on the title track, "I don't care/if the sun don't shine/and the rain comes pourin'/down on me and mine/'cause our kinda life/never seems to get old."
Neil's got a good healthy relationship with his past. He seems comfortable with it -- keeps it far enough away so as not to hurt, so as to be able to joke about tense break-ups and good times in the same song, as he does in "Buffalo Springfield Again."
In front of a distinctly Springfield progression, he puts it all past him. In the first verse, he sings, "Used to play in a rock and roll band/But they broke up/We were young and we were wild./It ate us up./Now I'm not sayin' who was right or wrong."
Apparently, time has worked with Neil, healing wounds and bridging rifts. He even toys with getting the old band back together in a later verse, "Like to see those guys again/Give it a shot/Maybe now we can show the world what we got/But I just like to play for the fun we had." He's not clinging to any old life woes, he's just playin' because it's fun. Because why not?
I'm listening to the album for the first time, and I know it's a keeper because I don't find myself hitting the skip button past filler to the salvageable single. "Silver and Gold" is a good listening album. I won't lie, there's a couple songs that lose me. Sometimes when Neil gets off on his metaphorical love tangents, I think it's best to let him go where we're not supposed to follow. And he's not turning any heads musically. He never has. I'd imagine years of incessant G, C and D chords have frozen Neil's fingers into a carpal-tunnel stiffness. No modal experiments here. But that's fine. He's got his sound and he can tune it to feel. What else do you need?
And people like what Neil Young is doing these days. They're telling me the new tour with Crosby, Stills and Nash is something to see, the best concert they can recall. My dad says he likes to hear the harmonies. My roommate says he likes it because it kicks ass. Hey, whatever floats the boat at least it's still floating!
Since this is my first time through the album, I can't pick out a best song with any authority. Who needs best songs, anyway? I like the first one, "Good To See You," because it puts the two of us, Neil and me, on the same page. He opens, "Good to see you/Good to see you again." Well, good to see you too, Neil.
