[rating=6.00]
The topical concerns that permeate the songs on The Monsanto Years shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s listened to Neil Young over the course of his career and particularly in recent years. And if nothing else, the collection of material maintains the viability of the album as a collection of recorded material, in a time of increasingly prevalent attention to a single song instead of an extended work.
But the cover art is an accurate representation of the music it encloses, its deceptively jumbled images mirror the flashes of brilliant clarity within the nine songs inside. The raw material is here for an excellent album that, with more focused attention, might well attain the more provocative result of the self-deprecating “If I Don’t Know” that, fittingly, concludes this album. In a measure of how his agenda belies his introspection, Neil Young remains keenly self-aware here—but goes on to proselytize and sloganeer anyway.
This latest release of Young’s, then, has more than its share of continuity most obviously in his collaboration with Promise of the Real. Playing with this band led by Lukas and Micah Nelson, offspring of country hero Willie Nelson with whom Neil has spearheaded Farm Aid for two decades, there is also a clearly-defined line to the Canadian rock icon’s work with Crazy Horse, in the deliberate tempo and near cacophony of “New Day for Love,” and even more so in the often (but not always) charming spontaneity of the musicianship. Bordering on sloppy at times, on the title song and “Rules of Change,” the ensemble moves resolutely but nevertheless tentatively along that borderline where the band sounds like it’s ready to fall apart, yet actually never does.
Needless to say perhaps because there’s no overly polished production applied to The Monsanto Years, this casual approach begs the question of how seriously Neil Young takes this project. In fact, on that introductory tune, a more-finely tuned mix highlighting the guitar solos would heighten its force. The same is true of the country folk tune that follows, “Wolf Moon,” where the far-off echo of a guide vocal is all too evident when the familiar quaver of Young’s voice appears more upfront–the rough-hewn harmony vocals that accompany him sound made up on the spot.
The point of those songs is thus muddled as a result, but “People Want to Hear” balances precariously on the author’s recognition that protest material often falls on deaf ears. And the four-square mid-tempo of “Big Box,” combined with the cliched liberalism of the lyrics, almost functions as an object lesson of that premise: as has been the case with many of recent live appearances and the often-contrived insertions in his two books (Waging Heavy Peace and Special Deluxe). Neil is again preaching to the converted, not illuminating new information or, as on his splendid 1970 dirge/march “Ohio” (with Crosby Stills and Nash) , offering a perspective almost as unsettling as the event that prompted it (the deaths of four Kent State students at the hands of National Guard troops).
It remains to be seen if tracks such as “Rock Star Bucks” and “Workin’ Man” grow to similar stature as “Walk On” or “Don’t Be Denied.” Neil Young might’ve more artfully served his conceptual purpose here (not to mention elevate his credibility on his chosen subjects) if his plan of execution involved more keenly honing this opinionated material and the recording of it.
