Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s World Record is not all that different from the foursome’s previous two albums, 2019’s Colorado and last year’s Barn. That’s to say it’s mostly a lowkey and informal piece of recording, one that may suffer from too much spontaneity for its own good, even with the presence of co-producer Rick Rubin (who supervised Johnny Cash’s final records and was heavily involved in the assembly of Tom Petty’s Wildflowers.
It is, however, distinguished from its predecessors by exactly the kind of two guitars, bass, drums, and vocals workout missing from those records. Granted, the thirteen minutes-plus of “Chevrolet” is not a tour-de-force the likes of which populated 1969’s Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere or Ragged Glory some two decades later. But, placed as the next to the last cut, it is the culmination of a deceptive, barely discernible momentum that grows through the progression of the prior nine tracks.
Hearing Young leading Nils Lofgren, Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina prove the enduring mettle of their long-standing relationship. More importantly, it also provides time for a listener to contemplate that which has preceded this penultimate cut (not to mention the placement of a front cover photo of Neil’s father Scott, and the inclusion in the credits of what appear to be the birthdates of everyone involved with this project).
Hearing songs such as the opening pair, “Love Earth” and “Overhead,” is like hearing excerpts from Neil Young’s diary set to music, which he then plays with Crazy Horse in a mostly quite relaxed fashion. It’s not as if the imagery in “Break The Chain ” isn’t lucid, for instance, but only that its lyrics sound assembled with the same nonchalance as the musical accompaniment. As with World Record overall, the wholes of those songs are greater than the sums of their parts, but they don’t always make for compelling listening
The former Buffalo Springfielder seems to be championing insularity (“Walkin’ On The Road (to the future)”) as much as he’s encouraging activism (“The World (is in trouble now)”). And he’s wisely putting the proverbial little things in proper perspective within the world at large, from his particular (peculiar?) point of view (“I Walk With You (earth ringtone)”). Unfortunately, there are few energetic solo interludes to elevate such tracks.
A piano-dominated piece accentuated with accordion, “This Old Planet (changing days),” doesn’t crystallize the listening experience. Nor do Neil and The Horse comport themselves with authority on their instruments during “The World (is in trouble now)” or in delineating the arrangement for a comparatively clear-headed contemplation upon the passage of time titled “The Long Day Before.”
All of which are uncomfortably similar to the predecessors of World Record. Perhaps that’s because the author’s reflections in the songs seem just momentary notions, not deep-rooted questions or newly-arrived epiphanies. “Walkin’ On The Road (to the future)” certainly doesn’t bounce with the relish of living its title might suggest and the foursome doesn’t fully embroider upon the expectant self-discovery in “The Wonder Won’t Wait.”
But, within this track sequencing, the juxtaposition of that cut with “Chevrolet” becomes telling. Given Neil Young’s fascination with automobiles–see his second book Special Deluxe: A Memoir of Life & Cars, it’s perhaps not surprising he brings a palpable measure of glee to playing a tune named after a famous brand name vehicle. But when the Canadian shouts out ‘We took it fast before we took it slow…’ he and the Horse follow suit: the quartet sounds ready to explode any second from the first minute on, a dramatic ambiance accurately recorded and mixed by Ryan Hewitt at Rubin’s Shangri La Studios.
In the company of his most longstanding accompanists, Neil Young’s no doubt comfortable–and perhaps too much so–on these last three LPs. That said, in the wake of that extended workout for him and his favorite (?) band, the hushed take on “This Old Planet reprise” sounds like the man contemplating his place on earth to genuine thought-provoking effect; this number is not simply one more of a series of ruminations on his own mortality or even a collection of such thoughts as an end itself. It’s an expression of acceptance of his lot in life that’s all the more liberating for its intimacy.
Consequently, with his customary idiosyncrasy, this erstwhile compatriot of Crosby, Stills, and Nash is closing World Record on a most appropriate note. This forty-fifth studio album of Neil Young’s may not rank as one of his greatest, but it may well be the most true-to-life effort he’s ever released.
