donjunio

Yes, "ICORMN" by Crosby wouldn't have been the same without the help of various Garcias and Young himself, but conceptually it's an album by David (who almost entirely composed it on his own). In my view, it's a more memorable work compared to the excellent solo debut by Stills, because it served as a genuine collective experience of the Californian psychedelic era, which was also beginning to fall into cognitive dissonance with itself. This is because Crosby had something more from a poetic standpoint, while Stills has always been the more straightforward and rock soul within CSNY (and that doesn’t take away from the fact that he still wrote great songs).

Great question. I love both of them so much, especially for their chemistry during the Buffalo Springfield days. "Again" is one of my all-time favorite albums, and I really couldn't say whether "Bluebird" or "Rock and Roll Woman" (Stills’ versions) are better, or if Neil's "Broken Arrow" and "Expecting to Fly" take the prize. Stills was definitely more gifted as a guitarist (as shown in the Supersessions you mentioned), but Neil had an unmatched poetic sense that allowed him to transcend the banal dimensions of songwriting. In many ways, they were like day and night (Stills brash and sunny, a showy musician capable of linking exceptional artifacts at the crossroads of diverse genres, bringing pure flower power melodies; Young, twisted in crafting nervous and melancholic ballads, more prone to a lysergic-experimental ecstasy), and they influenced and greatly improved each other: that’s why Buffalo Springfield was so special, with two such unique artists (not forgetting Furay and Palmer). Back in the Buffalo days, I believe their rivalry ended in a tie, if not slightly in favor of Stephen, who was the undisputed leader. However, from the 70s onwards, I don't think it's even a competition. Stills produced some very interesting work, but never at the level of Crosby's "If I Could Only Remember My Name" or Young's famous masterpieces: albums that captured the spirit of the era around them. His creativity also gradually waned, just like Crosby’s, partly due to substance abuse and a certain bourgeoisification. "They were lost in crystal canyons," Neil sang on "Thrasher," referring to his old pals. Young, on the other hand, always managed to bounce back, thanks to his own perverse work ethic (stemming from having always been considered inferior to his mates, at least until "Harvest"), even managing to rise again after the traumas of the 80s and ride the grunge wave, resurrecting and renewing his intentions with Crazy Horse. To make a sports metaphor: if the race between Neil and Stephen had been a 100-meter dash, the Texan would have certainly won. But in the marathon of 40 years of career, there’s really no contest in favor of Neil. The best testament to this splendid love-hate relationship, I believe, is found in the version of "Southern Man" on CSNY's "Four Way Street." Fabulous are the solos of the two, intertwining, stretching, chasing each other without ever covering or overlapping: a metaphor for a relationship that is as tumultuous on a personal level as it is magnificent artistically. Bye, bubi.

Anyway, Neil and Stephen are still great friends: in their own way, of course...

I love black cats; one of my kitties is a majestic black Persian with amber eyes... a malevolent cat a la Cagliostro. I also like Paul Auster, so you’ve definitely intrigued me!

Yes, the album was a partial disappointment, especially when compared to the marvels previously created by Young and Stills, particularly during their time with Buffalo Springfield, when the two friend-rivals had an almost osmotic relationship, artistically superlative. Here, instead, as you well pointed out, everything feels far too fragmented. Stills' talent, worn down by a decade of terrible abuse, seems dried up and sterile, marked by a mannered blues. Neil saves the album from sinking with delicate gems like "Long may you run" and "Midnight on the bay," but the choral West Coast magic is dissolved in the cold nudity of the seventies. Not by chance, Neil left Stills hanging at the beginning of the promotional tour, sending him a malicious telegram, ending with "Eat a peach, Neil." A solitary horse like Neil preferred (as he almost always does) to run free. Stills got quite angry, and at the first concert without Young, in Florida, when the audience called for the Canadian, Stills replied irritably, "Fuck Neil Young, I'm doin' this show and if you don't like it, fuck off."

may you run for long, dear deldavid....good job, get to work!

I miss these, you intrigued me... excellent review as always!

A certainty!

Useless collection, with which Geffen tried to recover some of the many dollars he thought he would pocket by hiring Young. Intuitively, because the album didn't even chart. The hyena David would make up for it with interest by someone who quoted a line from Neil in his farewell message, and he’s still profiting from it. There's little to say about Neil's 80s: it’s an important piece for understanding the Young mosaic, more on a human level than an artistic one. Anyone who cares about the thousand facets of the inscrutable loner should get all those records; they certainly won't get bored, otherwise, they should turn to other periods of the Canadian. It’s a pity that "Payola Blues," "Computer Age," and "Like an Inca" are missing, though. Welcome to another Young fan on the site!

"trompe le monde" is a peculiar album: filled with keyboards, "deviated" but not as brilliant as the previous ones, and with some frankly static tracks, like "U-mAss"....however, the cover of "head on" by the Jesus and Mary Chain is splendid...shattered and splattered like every cover should be.