To crudely paraphrase Nick Cave, it seems like I’m forever near a stereo asking how is it possible there's another new Neil Young release.
This week brings the release of World Record, his third consecutive album with a revitalized Crazy Horse since 2019, which is a streak that betters not only any of his peers but any rocker this side of Ty Segall. These three records are just a fraction of what he’s released since Colorado in the fall of 2019.
By my count—and I may well have missed a reissue or two—this is what Neil has released since the dawn of the COVID-19 pandemic:
2020
Homegrown
Return to Greendale
Archives, Vol. II
After the Goldrush [50th Anniversary Edition]
2021
Way Down in the Rust Bucket
Young Shakespeare
Carnegie Hall 1970
Barn
2022
Original Release Series, Discs 13, 14, 20 & 21
Dorothy Chandler Pavilion 1971
Royce Hall 1971
Citizen Kane Jr. Blues
Noise & Flowers
Toast
World Record
Harvest (50th Anniversary Edition)
That’s an astonishing amount of music, particularly over the last year, when the releases came so fast and furious that I missed that Toast—a scrapped album from the early 2000s, one that pops up whenever I open the Xperi/Allmusic Young database—actually received an official issue. (It's not bad!) I blame that oversight on the vagaries of its release—it arrived when I was busy with a family vacation—as I have otherwise diligently kept up with each of these records, listening even when I haven’t been in the mood.
You’ve got to be in the mood for solo acoustic live Neil and there’s been a lot of those records as of late. The clutch of Official Bootleg Series released this past May generally all blended together—Citizen Kane Jr. Blues is the exception, as it captures a concert given a few years later when Neil was running through On the Beach material--as did Young Shakespeare and Carnegie Hall 1970: they're all good, they're just not particularly distinctive, especially when compared to the monumental electric set Way Down in the Rust Bucket https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/neil-young-and-crazy-horse-way-down-in-the-rust-bucket/, recorded just as Young was getting ready to take Crazy Horse out on the road to support Ragged Glory.
The thing I find about this steady thrum of new Neil projects is that they've added dimension and footnotes to the established narrative instead of offering revelations. Even the unreleased completed albums Homegrown and Toast flesh out their respective eras instead of revising our perceptions of his history. And that's fine! There's nothing wrong with having more Neil Young music readily available, especially as it is indeed good Neil Young music, but this open firehose of material does make me appreciate the careful curation of the Bob Dylan Bootleg Series.
I do like the brand-new World Record, though. I'll have more thoughts on that later.
Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2022
Try as I may, I just can't muster up strong opinions about this year's Rock & Roll Hall of Fame class--and, believe me, I have tried. I talked about the nominations on the Who Cares About the Rock Hall podcast, I submitted my ballot to the Hall, I wound up picking career highlights for the inductees for the AV Club. Given all that, I think I should be able to remember everybody who's gotten the nod this year but I need to jog my memory to remind myself of inductees who aren't Duran Duran and Pat Benatar. I'm very happy Duran Duran made it in: they're a distinctive, era-defining band who is still doing good work. Can't say the same of Benatar, who always struck me as an affected rocker who stumbled into a couple of good singles, then eased into an oldies act supported by her guitarist husband who somehow has managed to finagle his own induction into the Hall. As a duo, they're practically the definition of workaday rockers, so I guess it's good that pedestrian hard rock gets representation in the Hall.
The rest of the 2022 class veers pretty far into adult contemporary territory, a place I usually find quite welcoming but in this case, the combination of Carly Simon and Lionel Richie makes me zone out a little, causing me to forget that Eminem, Eurythmics and Dolly Parton also are being honored. I also find it a little funny that this is the second straight year where an 80s metal act gets ushered in under the guise of Musical Excellence--proof that even the new blood on the nominating committee can't quit the stereotype of rock & roll being a bunch of dudes making loud noises with their Marshall amps.
Selected Writings
John Cougar Mellencamp—Scarecrow
It's been a while since I've spent time with Scarecrow so I was surprised to discover how alive it still sounds: it's an incredible production, direct, forceful, and clean. The bonus disc in this Deluxe Edition is most interesting when it unearths a handful of '60s covers and unreleased songs, including "Smart Guys," a song inspired by rock critic (and Mellencamp friend) Timothy White.
Courtney Marie Andrews—Loose Future
I've often found Courtney Marie Andrews's albums to be handsome to the point they flirted with austerity so I was quite happy to hear her expand her sonic palette here.
Pixies—Doggerel
Pixies finally are making the kind of records they should've been making a decade ago: straight-ahead alt-rock that's unashamed to be all about craft.
Once you slot all the hits, the standards that have to be on a list like this, there's not much room for deep cuts but I'm glad I got "The Ballad of a Well-Known Gun" and "Whenever You're Ready (We'll Go Steady Again)" onto this list.
Five years ago, I immersed myself in the "Weird Al" Yankovic catalog for a review of his massive Squeeze Box set. This year, I did this list of his Essential songs and came away with the same impression as I did a half-decade ago: his earliest stuff still has the kinetic kick of outsider art but he really did get better at his craft—his art—as he went along.
Bruce Springsteen—Only the Strong Survive
As always, I wonder why Springsteen doesn't record at least part of his album live in the studio. This well-tailored collection of soul covers is crying out for a hint of grit.
The Beatles—Revolver [Super Deluxe Edition]
It's the best of the Beatles Super Deluxe boxes (so far) because the bonus material really shines a spotlight on the Fab Four's creative process in the studio.
The Springsteen album needed some grit and/or groove that a live band would have provided. I don't know if Paul Stanley's soul covers album is better than the Boss's (they're in the same ballpark -- enjoyable, not great), but Stanley having a real live band gives his record a much warmer feeling.