The logic behind Neil Young’s record releases, archival and otherwise, isn’t always readily discernible, but the progression of the ‘Official Bootleg Series” is fairly clear. Sequential numbering of the titles aside, the first three issues were from Young’s classic period of the early Seventies, after which was an early venture into the man’s self-proclaimed ‘ditch,” Citizen Kane Jr. Blues. Somewhere Under The Rainbow 1973 is a logical successor to that title, in marked contrast to which is The Ducks’ appropriately-titled High Flyin’ 1977.
Still, both entries in the archival initiative are evidence of the courage it took for Neil Young to eschew the celebrity that came with the massive commercial success of 1972’s Harvest. Recorded with the band dubbed ‘The Santa Monica Flyers’–multi-instrumentalist Nils Lofgren, steel guitarist Ben Keith, bassist Billy Talbot and drummer Ralph Molina–this appearance at the British venue correlates at least somewhat to 2018’s Roxy: Tonight’s the Night Live.
However, in place of the exultant sense of relief emanating from the latter performance (soon after the completion of Tonight’s The Night), the recording of Somewhere Under The Rainbow (by Pete Long who also contributes an essay on the four-page insert) radiates palpable resolve and despair in almost equal measure, plus an air of genuine catharsis, all this despite the murky audio quality remaining in the wake of mixing and mastering by the artist himself and long-time technical collaborator Niko Bolas.
Like the live presentation of Greendale in 2004, Neil and the band proffer vintage material only after the main novel content that comprises the bulk of the concert. Virtually all of the aforementioned 1975 albums Warner Bros. initially refused to release precedes “Helpless,” “Cowgirl in the Sand” and even a Buffalo Springfield cull, “Flying On The Ground Is Wrong;” the rapturous audience response to the latter numbers is nevertheless out of proportion to the agonizing spontaneity of the musicianship.Â
While it’s not quite ragged glory, the performance nevertheless served its purpose, that is, to exorcize the demons that arose in the wake of the tragic passings of Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten and CSNY roadie Bruce Berry (both of whom are prominently pictured on the package). In marked contrast is the gleeful relish that permeates The Ducks’ High Flyin’ 1977, proof positive Young was fully taking charge of his career at this point.
Though this quartet doesn’t jam to such great lengths, their music does recall Neil’s earliest country-tinged work with Crazy Horse. Everyone in this foursome has a chance to do some lead singing on their original material, while Young relegates himself to lead guitar chores and steps to the fore on vocals for songs of his own such as “Human Highway” and “Mr. Soul.”
Abandoning the frustration of his efforts to collaborate with his famous three friends at this point, the Canadian rock icon had found himself a situation where he could enjoy playing for the sake of playing. He is virtually a co-equal member of an ensemble including guitarist/vocalist Jeff Blackburn–who co-wrote “My My Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)”–one-time bassist/vocalist Bob Mosley of Moby Grape and drummer Johnny Craviotto (who drummed in reunions of that latter group).Â
Emblematic of the facetious fable on the one-page insert behind the eye-catching cover art here, Neil Young is having a bit too much fun to sustain anything genuinely intense over the course of these nearly two-hours on stage and in rehearsal with his cohorts. Still, it’s hard not to become caught up in the joy of it all before it’s over, because songs like “I Am A Dreamer” are infectious by their very lack of affectation.
Both of these two-CD ‘Official Bootlegs,’ each in its own way, reaffirms that the seeming vagaries of Neil Young’s career are not random anomalies, but rather a pattern of purposeful behavior. Therein lies the source of fascination with this man’s work, a sensation shared not only by his most devoted fans but also, apparently, by the artist himself: his concentration on his archives in recent years evinces a definite sense of rediscovery of the value in his music, no matter what form it may take.
