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Few artists have made such chameleon-like transformations throughout their careers with the daring consistency demonstrated by Neil Young. Dylan, Bowie and Lou Reed may have come close, but none of them have altered their artistic intentions with as much rabid daring and determination. Whether operating under the guise of winsome folkie, rabid rocker, country crooner, political pontificator, avant garde auteur or big band leader, Young has a habit of keeping his fans guessing with each new offering, and while more than a few of his choices have been perplexing and confounding (remember Trans and Re-Ac-Tor), he definitely deserves credit for not settling for sameness while pushing his parameters ever farther.
Indeed, one of the joys of Young’s Archive Performance Series has been to revisit the various mutations he’s assumed along the way while being given the opportunity to reexamine the material that was produced in the process. This particular chapter, titled Bluenote Cafe, focuses on one of his briefest flirtations, that of a blustery bluesman who toured with horns in tow. While some of the songs were culled from the single album he recorded with the Bluenotes, his horn-oriented backing band at the time, the real treat here comes by way of seven songs that never found their way on to any recording up until now. Suffice it to say that alone will delight Neil’s loyal legions, given the fact that much of the fascination with Young lies in the fact that his treasure trove of unreleased material is legendary.
Sadly though, most of the new titles are unexceptional, bound by the constraints of a big band format that’s based on the blues without any real attempt to bend the boundaries. It’s fine for what it is, but the melodies don’t bear much distinction. The only real exceptions are the joyful “Sunny Inside” and the pseudo soulful “new” offering “Soul of A Woman” (which, ironically, is followed by “Married Man,” the ying to its yang). Completists will crave them of course, but it’s doubt they’ll give them recurring listens. Indeed, the real highlights here are the two tracks that are also the most familiar, a blistering version of the Buffalo Springfield gem “On the Way Home” and a dramatically reworked take on “Tonight’s the Night.” Those two offerings alone are alone nearly worth the cost of admission.
After so many years — make that decades — of waiting for Young to open his vaults, it’s a treat to gain access to this late ‘80s output, as encapsulated in a two CD set. As always, however, the question remains — what will Neil offer up next?
