INTO THE BLACK: NEIL YOUNG

Neil Young is an enigma when it comes to musical categories. He’s often been classified as part of the mellow singersongwriter school of the early 70’s, probably a direct result of his association with Crosby, Stills & Nash, as well as his flirtation with commerciality on Harvest which produced his only No. 1 single, “Heart Of Gold.” Young brought a much-needed hard rock edge with him when he added his Y to CS&N, and it’s especially evident in retrospect that his material stands out as that conglomeration’s best work. (I mean, when was the last time you listened to David Crosby’s “Almost Cut My Hair”?) Years later, when Stephen Stills was picking a fight with Elvis Costello in an Ohio bar, Neil Young was telling Newsweek: “I dig the punks. What’s healthy about them is they know it will piss off the Eagles. It’s so healthy to take pot-shots at music that’s supposed to be anti-establishment and isn’t anymore.” And yet Young continues to be embraced by folk and country rock purists as one of their own.

Of course, Young has produced some of the finest post-Dylan folk rock around. He’s perfectly comfortable with an introspective, sensitive ballad, and he continuously returns to the stylistic confines of country and folk. On the other hand, I know several “folkies” who went to see Young during his 1978 “Rust Never Sleeps” tour, and they were totally flabbergasted by what took place. The “Rust Never Sleeps” show was the monumental one in which Young attempted to put rock ’n’ roll and its pop culture aspects into a grand perspective or panorama (“It’s about American rock ’n’ roll, the whole trip,” he told Newsweek), and featured such brilliant little absurdities as Coneheads and Star Wars Jawahs dancing across the stage as Young and Crazy Horse wailed through “Cinnamon Girl.”