It’s borderline startling to watch the video portion of Way Down in the Rust Bucket. Neil Young and Crazy Horse play with naturally fluid chemistry that belies the physical exertion and mental concentration they bring to bear on stage in Santa Cruz on November 13, 1990. But close observation also reveals the foursome knows very well what an extraordinary performance they are offering.
Young and the Horse take their time from the very first number at The Catalyst, a venue the bandleader had played numerous times before. This leisurely reading of the lighthearted “Country Home” somewhat camouflages its personal meaning for the iconoclastic man that wrote “The Loner.” But it still allows plenty of time for tuneful solos from both the bandleader and guitarist Frank Sampedro; the styles of the two have rarely, if ever, sounded more complementary. Meanwhile, drummer Ralph Molina gleefully bashes away in time with Billy Talbot’s metronomic bass playing, the combination of which might sound tedious if there wasn’t such a palpable sense of joy in the musicianship.
The bond of these four not only unites but uplifts them and the momentum grows through the interweaving of a wide range of material. “Surfer Joe and Moe the Sleaze” and “T Bone” first appeared on 1981’s Reactor, one of the quartet’s lesser-known LPs. In contrast. “Cinnamon Girl” is a seminal cut from the landmark 1969 issue Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. Then there’s “Don’t Cry No Tears,” ”Cortes the Killer” and “Danger Bird,” all culls from the 1975 Zuma album on which ‘Poncho’ first appeared in place of original Horse guitarist/songwriter/vocalist Danny Whitten (the last-named tune actually made its first live appearance this evening).
Not surprisingly, virtually all of September 1990’s Ragged Glory shows up here, including the tongue-in-cheek cover of “Farmer John (the exception is the LP’s concluding non-sequitur “Mother Earth”). Even at the tremendously high volume, this recording compels, melody wins out over noise (but just barely!), thanks to John Hanlon’s mixing from the original analog tapes. It’s a dynamic range that mirrors the pacing of the three sets nurtured via respites from the prevailing intensity through songs as slight as “Homegrown” (originally from American Stars ‘n Bars, but actually the title tune of 1975 work never issued in its entirety till 2020).
The extent to which Neil and the band stretch out on any given number is key to its relative importance, not only in this particular context but also in Young’s overall discography. One of his most venerable numbers, “Like A Hurricane,” for instance, is the second-longest cut here, edging out only “Love and Only Love,” from the aforementioned studio album just recently-released prior to this gig: both are in the thirteen-minute range. The latter number is as close as Young has ever come to clearly depicting his state of mind at any given juncture in his career, and, perhaps not coincidentally, given his stage of life at the time—in the wake of Freedom, a remarkable return to form from just the year before–it’s a succinct exposition of utter positivism. The Canadian rock icon is unusually grounded as he looks behind and ahead, even as he’s reveling in the present.
Audio and video of three hours approximate may or may not placate completists and budgeteers who choose to quibble with configurations and avenues for purchase of Way Down in the Rust Bucket (there’s no Blu-ray, for instance, while the DVD contains one additional performance of “Cowgirl In The Sand” which does not appear on the vinyl or CD editions). And there may be those who find this latest archive release redundant given the continued availability of the previously-released album from this period, Weld.
But in contrast to that double-CD, taken from various concerts in support of its studio counterpart, this one-night-only piece marks a point where creativity transcends commerce, further preserving what’s unarguably one of the pinnacles in Neil Young’s artistic history.
