With the release of Prairie Wind, Neil Young has, for one of the first times in his long and profound career, followed a trend. The past month has seen something truly remarkable-albums by the Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney and now Neil Young-that are actually worth listening to.
These big names of '60s and '70s rock have essentially dabbled in atrocity for decades, with the notable exception being Young's own early-'90s revival, and are now finally making use of their gift once again. It seems they have realized something truly sublime: sometimes it is best to stick to what got you famous in the first place.
Neil Young has done just that with this highly pleasing (if highly derivative) folk-rock record, which is chock-full of the swaying rhythms and country charm that first brought him to the world's attention back in 1970.
The drawback, of course, is that there is nothing new here-this is the Neil Young from a thousand other albums. With Prairie Wind Young proves he can still make a laid-back acoustic album about country life, his old guitar and Elvis, while still making it sound this damn good. This fact attests to Young's ability and longetivity as an artist.
The album feels a bit like a quiet, pleasant dream, and indeed much of the lyrical imagery is on this level. One gets the feeling, on the beautiful, bittersweet \It's A Dream,"" of taking a walk through Young's hometown. One verse speaks of ""a boy fishing the morning away,"" while in the next"" an old man walks along the sidewalk."" The narrator must constantly remind himself, in the form of the chorus, that it's only a dream, ""fading now.""
The final track, ""When God Made Me,"" is an absolutely astounding gospel hymn filled with grace and beauty. Using a solo piano and soft choir, Young asks questions that gently humanize God and gives a sense of what his religious beliefs might be. ""Did He give me the gift of voice so some could silence me? / Did He give me the gift of vision, not knowin' what I might see? / When God made me?""
Prairie Wind ends up being one of those great self-reflection albums, with Young as optimistic about his future as ever, yet singing of the prospect of death peacefully. On the albums fourth track, he sings ""bury me out on the prairie, and then I won't be far from home.""
Young's recent brain aneurysm seems to have prompted a good number of the songs here, but if anything, he has become even more of a dreamer. He sings about ""the long road ahead"" on ""The Painter,"" the album's finest track, and in the end leaves a lasting impression of an aging genius who sounds great just kickin' back and taking it as it comes.
