Harvest
For some this might seem like a strange entry given the two that proceed it. For those that know me, and my adoration of the scence that hailed Mr Young the “Godfather of Grunge” it’s no surprise that I own this album. Problem is, to own this album is to love it.
While this isn’t the rock ‘n’ roll or grunge Neil Young, this album of more countrified acoustic songs is a gem. From the slow-burning yet captivating start of “Out On The Weekend” it’s clear how the rest of the album is going to sound. There’s a gentle drum, an acoustic guitar and a harmonica and then Neil’s voice enters with the line “Think I’ll pack it in, buy a pick-up, take it down to L.A. Find a place to call my own and try to fix up” before singing of the woman he loves.
There’s songs on this album that I must have heard a 100 times before but never really stopped and listened to as anything other than background music or something playing on a radio elsewhere. Songs like ‘Heart of Gold’ and ‘Old Man,’ for example, must be some of the most well known songs on here but when you hear them in the context of the album and their original form, they become more arresting and, combined with songs like ‘The Needle and the Damage Done’ it’s clear why acts like Pearl Jam revered Neil so much. There’s a genuine ache and hurt in his voice and the near minimal accompaniment bought the pain home that little bit harder. The angst he expertly feeds out over tender arrangements would fuel a thousand Better Mans and Blacks over the years to come.
As this is a personal Essential Albums list I’ll mention my favourite track on this album. The oft-over-looked closer, ‘Words (Between The Lines of Age).’ Bringing in the band for something of a musical work-out, Young throws up a number of timing changes between verse and choruses and some real complex ones for the interludes making for a mammoth song to finish an excellent album.
While the songs on this album do sound like songs heard many times before, it’s Young’s lyrics that pack a punch when sang so hauntingly in his amazing tenor. Observations, songs of loss and yearning and even a warning about drugs (though let’s not mention the irony of Martin Scorsese having to post-edit a lump of cocaine from the singer’s nose for The Last Waltz) are all wrapped up in an album that arrives so gently then leaves in a similar under-stated state a little over half-an-hour later.
You just have to listen to it a second time through and absorb all those lyrics another time, there’s always something else that grabs you.
Have a listen:
The start;
Out On The Weekend
and the finish;
Words (Between the Lines of Ages)
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