A Letter Home -- New/Old Neil Young: A Fine Feast

I have loved Neil Young from the first moment I heard him sing, and yes, he's a little whiny, and his range has compressed over the years--but the emotion has deepened and the guitar and piano still evoke the acoustic magic of the late sixties and the early seventies. Neil's latest effort is called A Letter Home -- and I just today received my VINYL record in the mail -- and I just this minute finished listening to both sides on our turntable in the living room. 

A couple of interesting things about this album is not only how it was recorded but also the fact that none of the songs were written by Neil--they are the songs that influenced him, the songs he holds dear in his musical heart--as he says it:   "an unheard collection of rediscovered songs from the past recorded on ancient electro-mechanical technology [which] captures and unleashes the essence of something that could have been gone forever."  The album was recorded live inside of an old-time recording booth--(like the photo booths that would deliver that strip of four black & white photos of you and your best friend making goofy faces, remember that?)--only this allowed you to record your voice and send it to someone. Well, in this case, Neil sat in the booth and played his guitar and sang--and the result is phenomenal--like hearing a folksinger's recording from the 1930's--the "old-timey" music that speaks to the heart of what this country once was. 

Here's a clip from Three Man Records in Nashville, who produced the album:



The songs are by Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Gordon Lightfoot, Willie Nelson, Tim Hardin, and others. To hear them in Neil's old and scratchy voice, with just his guitar (or a piano pulled up to the 'door' of the recording booth, and played  by Jack White) is to re-experience the poignant, heart-breaking lyrics all over again with songs like, "If you could read my mind, love" and "My Hometown" and "Girl from the North Country."

There's a CD available, of course, but if you can, get the vinyl--it's a step back to a slower, more graceful time (imho), and you'll thank yourself for the gift. 

Josh Ritter Concert at Fox Theatre, Oakland

Two weeks ago, I didn't even know who Josh Ritter was, and last night I went to see him at the Fox Theatre in Oakland, California because I won two tickets as first prize in a writing contest. A wonderful local indie bookstore--Book Passage--held a short story contest that had "music" or "musicians" as its theme (< 2500 words) and it just so happened I had a story with that theme, "The Sound of Dreaming" so I dusted it off, sent it in, and lo and behold, I won! Dining before the show at the fabulous Flora right across the street from the Fox, a good friend and I (a couple+ cocktails the better) ambled over to the Fox, found our seats perched at the edge of the bar/mingling platform and with a great center-stage view of not only the stage but also the soundboard and lighting mix panels (which I love to watch), and settled in for the show.


Ritter is a very engaging and simpatico performer, starting out alone on stage with a plugged-in acoustic guitar, and his band members join him one by one. Great drummer and keyboardist! The enthusiastic audience knew all the songs and applauded the opening strains of favorites. His songs are melodic and all about love--here, gone and to come. A thematic keynote was sounded in one song titled "Hopeful" -- my friend commented that she found all his music very positive, gentle, encouraging and update -- something that struck both of us as unusual for this generation's music (Ritter is in his late thirties). But at the same time, there was another song that seemed also to be a signature piece--its refrain was "Don't you leave us in the dark" followed by repeated crooning of "ooh-ooh-ooh" which the audience lovingly joined.

A similarly sweet ballad, "Change of Time" was also an audience favorite; here's a little clip, Ritter is singing "Time, Love...It's only a change of time."

Like a robust wine (or, alternatively, an artisanal hearty soup), there were tastes and flavors of influences from music of the 70's and 80's which my friend and I, being women of a certain age, could easily identify--to the point that upon hearing the opening organ riff on one song, we turned to each other and said in unison, "Like a Rolling Stone!" Other notable musical references were: Tom Petty, Paul Simon, Gordon Lightfoot, the Doors, and Mark Knopfler. But this is neither a judgment nor a criticism. I imagine it's virtually impossible not to sound a little like the great musicians who've gone before you (ask Brahms about "Beethoven looking over his shoulder"). It was actually enjoyable to hear whispers and ghosts of classic rock and roll alive again and thriving in the ever-evolving sound and lyrics of succeeding generations. 

Ritter is a natural storyteller, like Bob Dylan, and with one song titled "Folk Bloodbath", I was reminded both by the music and the lyrics of Dylan's great "Tangled Up in Blue." Sweet and strange the story unfolded, but I felt as if Ritter was not reaching his depth potential, as if he hasn't quite lived the story he's telling here--but I'm looking forward to his music and stories in the years to come, when more experience and just more travelled miles on the earth will bring his potential to greater fruition.

(Note: the opening act--Sea Wolf--was really good if a little too loud for my taste, but very well-done and heartfelt. VERY cool.)