After spending most of the
eighties as the least
hip man in pop, Neil Young has become an unassailable
icon, his every utterance
greeted with unanimous approval. that he
supported Reagan and then Ross
Perot seems forgotten in the drive to
canonise him as the weathered old
sage of rock. Niether his clothes-
peg-on-nose whine or his raspy guitar-playing
ever comes in for any
criticism - they're considered proof of his rugged
individualism.
Sleeps With Angels is, believe it or not, his 28th solo album
since 1969.
The last studio album, 1992's Harvest Moon, was Young-as-usual,
but in a
softer than normal mode that recollects his early albums. Sleeps
With Angels,
though, has only a superficial resemblance to anything he has
done before.
For once the automatic praise is well deserved.
The
title track eulogises Kurt Cobain who, it seems, Young tried to
contact
before his suicide. One of the noisiest songs on an essentially
low-key
album, it's full of distortion and big guitar, through which
Young's voice
fumbles faintly.
Driveby deals with the same basic
subject - the death by shooting of a young
person - in a different way,
with sombre piano and slow, deep-voiced choruses
Backing group Crazy Horse,
who have returned to Young after an absence,
extract maximum emotion from
their harmonies.
Most the album isn't as depressing as that.
Young's main preoccupations
are love and family and the state of the world
- in that order. Western
Hero, Trans Am, Safeway Cart and Piece of Crap are
Neil the old Woodstockian
having a go at the establishment. The satirical
heavy rock of Piece of Crap
is cunningly situated just after the elegant,
emotive Trans Am. Before that,
Young's moody guitar playing compensates for
Safeway Cart's pretty awful
simile about life being like a supermarket
trolley.
The best songs are the first two, whose brooding, musing
feel depict a Young
facing middle age and beyond. Prime of Life is a
lilting LA cowboy rock
rendered melancholic by Frank Sampedro's keening
flute; My Heart opens with
perky "tack piano" and turns into a
subdued, almost ethereal ballad
containing some of the band's most moving
harmonising.
Whatever Young comes up with next, he'll have a hard
time bettering the
heartaching prettiness of Sleeps With Angels.
Christ, what
a crappy review, I could have written
better without having heard the
bloody album. Still...
BTW, folks, can we keep the noise down
today, as I'm suffering from the
Mother of All Hangovers after seeing Roy
Ayers at Ronnie Scott's last night.
Great gig ("Everybody Loves The
Sunshine"...), and this guy played
until 2.15am! But that Lowenbrau
Pils has got some kick to it, I can tell
you...
Ducking to avoid
the flames from all those fervent real ale drinkers out
there... Don't
worry, guys, back on the Sam Smith's tonight..!
Neil Young Album Reviews
Thrasher