Neil Young
Living With War

THE REVIEW

The political dimension has always been a constant in Neil Young’s universe: from the hippie sparks of CSNY to the cover of his masterpiece "On the Beach," featuring in particular a newspaper with a headline on Watergate, epitome of his generation's failure.

Young has always had a combative and direct attitude in this regard, never flattening himself on liberal stereotypes: occupying surprising positions, even reaching to graze populist shores at the height of disillusionment coming out of the '70s. Conceiving music as an outlet for political tensions, the author of "Harvest" has forged vivid frescoes that have gone down in history, such as "Ohio", "Southern Man", or "Rockin' in the Free World". He is not a prophet like Dylan, his poetic dimension is reserved for other aspects of his imagination: for example, the artist tormented by his ghosts and rust.

The political Young is frenetic, writing impulsively about what doesn’t sit well with him in society: he can write a masterpiece like "Ohio" in a few minutes, in front of an astonished David Crosby. It is therefore no surprise that his much-talked-about "Living with War" is an instant record, conceived and recorded around the month of April, and already available on the web on the official site. Even the stones of Matera now know that in the Canadian’s (since 1965 transplanted in California) sights is Bush's America and its disasters, from the Iraqi deserts to the swamps of New Orleans. Many titles are emblematic: "Shock and Awe" (code name of the operation that deposed Saddam Hussein), "Lookin' for a Leader", "Flags of Freedom", and even "Let's Impeach the President". Let’s be clear: we are not facing a tediously long sermon. Young’s barbs are illuminating insights on today’s USA, dazzling and even ironic chronicles. And then the Music, indeed. It was to be expected given the themes addressed: "Living with War" marks the return to rougher and more electrifying sounds, even without the faithful Crazy Horse.

Apart from the two concluding episodes (the midtempo of "Roger and Out", an innocuous nod to "Helpless" and the gospel diversion of "America the Beautiful"), Neil’s new effort reconnects the threads of electric tension, lowering the delicate harvestian flavors of the previous "Prairie Wind". The guitar parts are all his, and you can bet that our hero had a great time: it’s been since "Ragged Glory" and "Sleeps With Angels" that we haven't heard the perfection of those curare-laden riffs, of that distorted guitar as in "Shock and Awe" or the very intense "The Restless Consumer", both jewels with the drive of the best days. The rest of the album, though not reaching the peaks of these two episodes, flows like a river in flood, a worthy soundtrack to its author's anger. It’s spontaneous to compare it with Neil's last effort on Crazy Horseback, that "Greendale" endowed with contemporary political prerogatives, ambitious and perhaps slightly pretentious: far more agile is the listening to simple but perfect rock concoctions like "After the Garden", "Living with War", or the poignant "Families", often embellished by unexpected trumpet solos and choruses that emphasize the album’s message.

"Don’t need no TV ad tellin’ me how sick I am" exclaims an indignant Neil in "The Restless Consumer", and we all understand - quoting Public Enemy - that it’s the music that’s the message of this wonderful sixty-year-old.

PS three and a half stars