All of these concerns were undoubtedly on Neil's mind as the Euro tour progressed. There would be a mere 16 day gap between the end of the Euro tour and the US opener in West Palm Beach on June 8. How would he handle "Greendale?" Intersperse it with the "classics" that the thousands of fans narcotized by Clear Channel would be expecting, if not demanding? Blow it off completely? Throw out a nibble here and there, like the surefire "Be the Rain?" Certainly there would be no way he could present it in a fashion similar to the solo shows. There wouldn't be a sound system with enough wattage to drown out the desperate cries for "SOUTHERN MAAAAN" from the punters if it became clear that the concerts would be featuring
Well, as Elliot Roberts once said, don't ever tell Neil he can't do something. History is littered with those who have underestimated his artistic vision, tenacity and propensity to constantly "head for the ditch" as he so aptly put it in reference to "Heart of Gold" and the lure of the middle of the road. While Neil has undeniably taken the easy path in times past, the lure of a great challenge always seems to excite him when the time is right. After the first few Euro solo dates it became abundantly clear that Neil was in a challengin' kinda mood. And now it was time to open up a can of artistic whup-ass on the whiny American corporate rock fans that have always made up an uncomfortably large portion of his fan base. You just know that the ridiculous abuse heaped on the Dixie Chicks and his pal Eddie Vedder for "crimes against patriotism" probably just added more steel to his resolve (BTW there's buzz that both Pearl Jam and the DixChix are slated for this year's Bridge - coincidence?).
Rumor has it that 8 days before the end of the Euro tour, Neil awoke from a dream with the answer to his "Greendale problem." In his dream he had envisioned not only the stage design but an audaciously huge, complex scheme to present the whole song cycle. He reportedly called Tim Foster, his production manager, and told him to sit down and grab a pen, a call that I'm sure that Foster had been increasingly dreading as the calendar ticked off the days.
Neil's answer? How 'bout a full-scale production featuring a massive stage with multiple sets of Greendale locales, a big hydraulic lift that moves stuff up and down, choreography, video screens galore, props, a cast of dozens portraying all the major Greendale characters and the entire 10 song shebang presented continuously in all its glorious entirety? How 'bout, in other words, Neil's version of Pink Floyd's friggin' "The Wall!" Oh yeah, one more thing - Greendale would not be "set 1" or "part 1" of the show; it will be _the_ show. Older material will be relegated to the encores. The only thing that probably wasn't a big problem was the arrangements of the songs. Neil and the Horse (minus Poncho most of the time) had worked extensively with the "Greendale" material last year, before, during and after the recording sessions. Billy Talbot wrote on his website last year that things had gone very well, that the songs were great and that they had "found a groove," a critical element in any CH project.
Concerns about how on earth something like this could be thrown together in less than one lunar cycle far overshadowed any concerns on how this would play to the masses. What Neil wants, Neil usually gets. His muse was in full flower. There were things on his mind that had to be expressed. The last few years seemed to have affected Neil deeply. His father in law had recently died. The nest got a little emptier as his daughter went off to college. And, of course, there were the events surrounding 9/11. His last few Bridge appearances had been oddly somber and disquieting. Less than 2 months after 9/11 he played songs like "Imagine" and "Blowin' in the Wind" at the Bridge. Last fall he debuted a long narrative song-then known as "Love and Affection," now known as "Falling From Above," the "Greendale" opener-that barely hinted at any larger schemes or ideas, even though at that time "Greendale" was already written. Who knew then what the next several months would entail.
The strange thing is that Neil himself probably wasn't even sure, just one of the many things that ultimately make him the great artist that he is. After all, this is a guy who isn't just occasionally impulsive; he's a crazy MF who positively seems to embrace the whole concept of spontaneity itself. His history is replete with the debris of broken relationships, scuttled songs, aborted albums, discarded brainstorms. If it ain't working, Neil has been known to bail faster than a rat jumping off a burning ship. Just ask Steven Stills who awoke one morning in Atlanta right in the middle of a 1976 tour with Neil only to find that his former rival and bandmate had decided things weren't working and was heading back West. The now infamous "Eat a Peach" telegram that Neil sent is the stuff of legends, but it also says about as much about the man as any 700 page "insider" bio will ever be able to do. To Neil the commercial viability and logistical concerns of a US "Greendale" tour were mere minor details, a reality that I'm sure horrified his handlers. This was a story that had to be told. "Ya gotta problem with that, Elliot?" Neil probably said at one point, only half-joking, as his long-time manager envisioned countless obstacles ahead on another long run through the ditch.
Calls were made, people were contacted, brainstorming sessions were held, resources were amassed, the Shoreline Amphitheater was rented for rehearsals (?!) and somehow all this madness ended up in Southern FLA before many people even knew Neil had toured Europe solo, let alone that he had some new bug up his ass called "Greendale."
Which brings us to what the average modern music expects from an $85 ticket.
The reaction to the first 2 US Greendale shows has been wildly diverse and impassioned-ironically, the only predictable thing about the whole event (of this season). To say that the vast majority of the audience each night (save for a coupla hundred Rusties and savvy internet surfers) was unprepared for the "Greendale show" is an obvious understatement. The press down in Dixie was surprisingly kind, if not understanding, one of the few bright spots in the array of public reactions to what will likely go down as one of the most controversial tours by a major artist in modern rock history.
Which also begs the question, "why the controversy?" Neil has always been an ornery cuss, the consummate "ditch rider." What did he do after "Heart of Gold," the biggest song of 1972? He went on the road with the "Time Fades Away" material for a grueling 3 month tour that damn near killed him (it did wreck his voice for several months). And the TFA setlists? Tons of "Harvest" goodies? Yeah, right. Half the setlists were not only new songs, they were about as far removed from the pleasantries of "Harvest" as one could get. I still vividly remember the stunned looks of disbelief from those around me at the old Met Center in 1973 when Neil was slash and burning through "Last Dance," a proto-punk LNC that still sounds angry and off-kilter to this day. "I've been searching for a Heart of Gold..." indeed.
And let's not even talk about the 80s and the Geffen era. I've expended considerable time and resources to study the man over the last 35 years and I'm just beginning to get a handle on the "excursions into alien territory" that comprised much of this period.
Time and time again over the last 30+ years Neil has not only defied expectations he's defied the very notions of things like logic and common sense. The fact that his greatest work ("Rust Never Sleeps") is built around the dread of artistic stagnation says loads about his primary modus operandi. I also remember going to the St. Paul Civic Center in 1978 while the whole world expected the showcasing of the "Comes a Time" material. And what did we get? Oh, just some little thing called "Rust Never Sleeps." A big "production" presentation with props and extras, an obvious cohesion and internal logic to a "cycle" of material that was mostly new yet somehow eerily familiar, songs that were simultaneously primal and complex, a clear attempt at "saying something" despite the expectations of the audience, or anybody else for that matter. In other words, taking risks. Embracing danger. Screw the costs. Being true to one's art. And, oh yeah, "fuck anybody who thinks I owe them anything other than what I'm gonna give 'em _right now_." Sound familiar?
Reports from the trenches at the first two FLA shows have run the gamut. That there were tons of disgruntled, if not downright angry fans, isn't nearly as surprising as the fact that evidently there were many people who actually were digging the new stuff. Evidently these are the kind of people who understand clichéd concepts like "artistic integrity." People who aren't possessed with some fucked up entitlement mentality that pushes music concerts into the realm of commerce. "I paid $200 for the tickets and the babysitter and this self-indulgent asshole thinks he can get away with playing a bunch of crap that nobody's ever heard! What does he think he is, an _artist_ or something? What a bunch of shit! Who can I call to complain or get my money back?" Not surprisingly, there are many who feel that Neil _owes_ them something when they buy a ticket, i.e. the right to dictate what they're going to get in return for turning over their $$$. Like Neil's a human jukebox. Like it's Neil's role to fuel the audience's nostalgia ("Dammit - I used to play 'Cinnamon Girl' all the time in my first car - how dare he not play it?"). I guess the safety and comfort of "greatest hits" nostalgia is what passes for artistic expression these days in the rock concert big leagues, an alternate universe where the "value" of the experience is inversely proportional to how much the audience is challenged.
Aside from the "Greendale" music, this ongoing tension between artist and audience has been positively compelling to follow over the last few weeks. I haven't thought this much about the complex nature of artistic self expression vis a vis the vagaries of the material world since I was in college and I was forced to think about such things! And it's not just the casual fans who are worked up, either. Some long time Rusties are absolutely torn over this tour. A common thread is that the whole package should've been marketed differently ("Neil Young and Crazy Horse present a musical novel - Greendale") in order to allay the inevitable shitstorm that would follow. This, of course, would've been nice but ignores the fact that Neil often changes his mind at a furious pace. When the US tour was announced nobody, maybe not even Neil, knew what the summer would bring. The more cynical view is that Neil and/or Clear Channel didn't want to do anything that would potentially harm ticket sales. If the word got out, so the story goes, that this was gonna be more "art" than "rock," POOF! there go the ticket sales.
The one thing that most everybody seems to agree on is that the actual production is pretty amazing. In some cases it seems that the sheer magnitude of the whole deal (there are close to 40 people on stage for the "Be the Rain" finale) mitigates the understandable disappointment that some feel by not hearing familiar material. Perhaps this was Neil's intent all along. He likely figured that the extensive narration he used to move things along in the small theaters in Europe wouldn't quite cut it in the cavernous sheds.
The "cast" on stage includes Neil's wife and daughter, friends and relatives, and various crew members (ala "Rust Never Sleeps") including longtime guitar tech (and Blue Note) Larry Cragg as "Grandpa." The visual presentation is reportedly a wild, if not bizarre, ride: actors mouthing out dialogue in conjunction with the lyrics; people buzzing around on stage, at times walking right through the band's sacred "zone" while they're playing; scenes from the companion "Greendale" DVD being projected on the vid screens. All that's missing are the "Road-eyes" from "Rust Never Sleeps" and the mechanical cockroaches from the "Rusted Out Garage" tour.
One of the key moments has to be at the end of "Greendale," with the cast of thousands doing "Be The Rain," and then Neil waving to the crowd as he exits the stage after the song ends. One can only imagine the common reaction in much of the crowd as the realization sinks in that "the son-of-a-bitch just played for 90 minutes and I didn't recognize a single song!" Oh, the horror of it all! I'm actually experiencing some strange pre-concert anxiety for the 3 Neil shows I'll be seeing next week. And this comes from somebody who has seen scads of Neil shows over the years. Aside from the anticipation of hearing Greendale with The Horse (a lot of people are saying that much of electric "Greendale" has a "Zuma" kind of vibe to it) after living with the solo versions for the last month I'm kinda twitchy about the mood in the trenches. Friends in Chicago have advised me to bring "riot gear" to the United Center, a testament to the always "spirited" Chicago fans. One even asked me, "is your wife going with?" When I asked why he said, "Oh, I'm just curious..."
The third US Greendale date was in Atlanta at the Chastain Amphitheater, a venue I've since learned is widely loathed by music fans. The stage was too small for the whole "Greendale" setup so it wasn't used at all. Neil and the Horse bravely forged ahead with "Greendale" on their own, with only a few of the actors popping in from time to time. Things evidently quickly degenerated without the distractions of the stage show. Tempers got frayed, words were exchanged, and people started grumbling loudly. The one song in the set that is still acoustic, "Bandit," was quickly aborted as Neil proceeded to tell a story about how he'll never do another solo show in Las Vegas because of all the chit-chatters (referencing the debacle that ensued at the 1999 solo tour stop at the Hard Rock Café out on the Strip). Barely hiding his contempt, Neil said to the crowd, "it's good to see that there's a little Las Vegas in Atlanta." Yikes. Father forgive them...
This weekend, Neil played the Bonnaroo festival in rural Tennessee. This was the first US date announced last Spring, long before "Greendale" had even been specifically mentioned. Predictably, I guess, the lucky fans out in the mud field got almost 3 hours of vintage Crazy Horse with hardly a sign of Greendale and it's residents save for a muted version of "Be the Rain." This very likely was a "one-off" aberration. Still, there are those who are now nervous that maybe reality stared Neil in the face after the reaction to the first 3 US dates and that he just blinked. Maybe those first 3 dates were the extent of the whole US Greendale tour. Maybe he's pissed and he's just gonna do the "hits" from now on. Maybe he's so pissed he'll tell us all to "eat a peach" and shitcan the whole rest of the tour (a friend joked this morning, "what's worse, Neil canceling the tour or getting the same old same old again?").
With Neil, obviously, one never knows. Boring and predictable he ain't. The big irony of course is that the very songs desired by the casual fans-derisively referred to as "Heart of Gold Toe Tappers" (HOGTT) on the Rust List - are, for the most part, the ones the hard core fans don't want to hear. There are actually those who love "Greendale" and have criticized Neil for not throwing in some obscure old nuggets in the encores, i.e. more music the average fan has never heard before. Man, can you imagine what it would be like if Joe Sixpack didn't even get "Like a Hurricane" after he's already endured the Twilight Zone-like nightmare of ending up at the Broadway production of "Greendale" after he thought he was going to a rock concert? Speaking as somebody who never needs to hear "Heart of Gold" again, I'd relish such a moment, but I'm running a bit low in the "riot gear" department these days.
Oh yeah, almost forgot about the encores. So far it's been 3 songs. The same 3 songs. "Powderfinger," "My My, Hey Hey," and "Like a Hurricane." He's fiddled with the order, but still the same 3 songs. One reviewer in Tampa said there was so much built-up anxiety / tension / anger from the shock of hearing all the new material that when the boys _finally_ played the old stuff that the emotional release was palatable. All was forgiven as Neil tore into "Like a Hurricane" for the umpteenth time, as the crowd stood on their seats, sang along and thrust their fists collectively into the air. Rockin' in the Free Clear Channel World - yeah! Ooops, he didn't play _that_ one.
Thanks for reading along. Will have more to report after the Target Center (assuming I'm not in the hospital!) when I race over to the Kraigy show at the 400. That should be a lot of fun and I wouldn't be surprised at all to hear a "new" Neil cover (could be anything but my money's on "Lotta Love," wink wink).
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"But for me, it was a dazzling, fantastic experience that will never be forgotten. Neil Young has surpassed himself. What a wonderful, wonderful creation Neil has given us."
Mike C. - "Rustie"
"I spent $180 that night to see a soap opera?? 1 1/2 hours of not one recognizable song! This guy has no idea why people have come out to see him play...BORING! I want my money BACK."
Anonymous disgruntled fan posting on Pollstar.com
"I don't recall ever getting a guarantee or a bill of rights with a concert ticket. My expectations at concerts are simple. I expect the artists to give it their best shot and to be respectful of the audience. I expect the same from the audience. Neil has always satisfied my expectations. On the other hand, there have been a few Neil audiences who've disappointed me. "
Karl - "Rustie"
"Hey SHUT UP ASSHOLE, I can hear you...I'm not that old...I waited 30 years to start talking, now this guy...I'll play your old songs when I get to 'em...THAT'S OK, I LOVE YOU ANYWAY...time to forge ahead... "
Neil Young -Tampa Bay - June 9, 2003
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