 
With his last release, Greendale (the soundtrack to his stage/concert concept album), Neil Young had everyone but the diehard scratching their heads; they seemed surprised. But the only surprising thing at this point is that people still get surprised when he puts out something …er, unusual. As a musician known for jumping styles, changing bands and going on tour playing completely new sets of material, this kind of shenanigans is expected, it’s what makes him such a force. Prairie Wind, with its largely acoustic make-up and somber worldview, may be the sequel to 1992’s Harvest Moon (which, in turn, might’ve been the sequel to 1972’s Harvest). In the past, these acoustic records have signaled either an end or beginning of a particular creative cycle. After Harvest, Mr. Young went on a career defining dark period that culminated with two landmark records, Tonight’s The Night and On The Beach. By contrast, Harvest Moon came at the end of another creative peak in the early 1990’s. So is he throwing us a bone with these easy acoustic records? Is he giving us time to catch up with him or is it another calm before the Neil Young storm of creativity? We’ll see, I guess. This new one is far less starry-eyed than Harvest Moon and as early as track two, the dark mood of the CD is set. It’s not just the repeated bird imagery or the slow pace of the music but the overall funeral-like atmosphere as, once again, he reflects the mood of his adopted nation. We’ve got a drawn-out war with no clear exit plan, and the people who are paying for the war are split as to its relevancy. Meanwhile, the administration is running the country like the Titanic: rich folks on top where the view is sweet and the poor folks on the bottom, away from the lifeboats. In “No Wonder” Mr. Young plays out a scene in slow motion which reads in part: “Tick tock / No wonder we’re losing time / Toll, toll / the fallen soldier bell / the old church on the hill / still stand when so many fell”. Given its frame of reference, “It’s A Dream” may be one of Young’s most poignant songs to date, outdoing even his old chestnut, “Helpless”, in the break-your-heart vocals. A six minute soft waltz with strings, trap set, pedal steel and lyrics straight out from the small town worlds of Sinclair Lewis: “I try to ignore what the paper says/ I try not to read all the news / and I’ll hold you if you had a bad dream / and I’ll hope it never comes true / ‘cuz you and I have been through so many things together/ and the sun starts climbin’ the roof…” Then he hits you with the chorus: “It’s a dream / only a dream / and it’s fading now / fading away / just a memory without anywhere to stay” Jesus, I don’ t want to hear this song ever again. I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that the toughest part of making these quieter records is the sequencing. How does one go about following your own painful illustrations? Luckily Mr. Young has almost forty years of experience of layering songs, always piecing them together perfectly. He knows when to add light and shade; in fact he’s treated his entire career as light and shade. It comes as a relief, then, that not all the songs are on the down side, but the best ones are. “Far From Home”, and “The Painter” are good and a bit more upbeat, although his tribute to Elvis Presley, “He Was King”, seems like a throwaway. It’s getting tougher and tougher to understand Presley’s impact if you are not a member of Club Baby Boomer. One of those you-had-to-be-there moments and while it’s obvious that Presley was amazing for a few extremely crucial years (1955 – 1957); the rest of the legend is based largely on an older generation’s sentimentality. What could be the album’s corniest song comes off as the best and most endearing and one that wouldn’t work from anyone else. Again, borrowing a guitar line from one of his old songs (this time “Harvest Moon”) Mr. Young strips away all pretense, almost whispering the words to “This Old Guitar”: “It can’t be blamed for my mistakes / It only does what it’s told / It’s been a messenger in times of trouble, in times of hope and fear / when I get drunk and start seeing double / It jumps behind the wheel and steers…This old guitar ain’t mine to keep/it’s mine to play for a while…” There is a female backing voice on a couple of songs that may or may not be Emmylou Harris and a horn section thrown in on a few songs, too…but I have no idea who this may be because Warner Brothers scrimps on their advance CD’s and withholds all pertinent information that I might need. So, no, I haven’t a clue as to who may be playing on this one but it sure ain’t Crazy Horse. Either way it’s one of Neil Young’s most gentle records and, at ten songs, he doesn’t overstay his welcome, just gets in gives his side of the story and gets out. Prairie Wind is no fun, but it’s always good. - Andrew Lau
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Neil
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