photo by Robert Clark Young
Neil Young News
NEIL YOUNG IN SACRAMENTO
by Robert Clark Young
Back to Part #1
Date: Tue Feb 24, 2004 3:59 pm
Subject: Neil Young in My FrontRow Living Room!
After four Greendales now, three of them from the front row, I finally understand Neil's current concert structure as an outgrowth of the early CSNY shows where you'd have the acoustic songs first, the break, then the electric songs. Neil followed this format for Rust Never Sleeps and a number of other tours.
Greendale is the same thing. While Greendale is electric, it corresponds to the acoustic, more personal opening half of the show. Neil wants that intimate bond with the audience. That is why he takes so much time talking to us--and will talk to us even more, the more attention and laughter and applause we give him.
All these years of people complaining about "How ya doin," and now the guy wants to talk our ears off, and now I've heard a few folks even complaining about it.
Anyway--it was like having Neil in my living room. Or being in his living room. Just Neil and me. And Neil tellin stories--tellin the Greendale stories--
So I didn't get up and dance this time. I just sat there with Neil Young standing eight feet in front of me, and looked up at him and took in everything he was saying.
Yeah, NB got up and danced throughout most of Greendale. Whatcha gonna do? Her favorite song is still Hurricane! But she has come a long, long way from being a Neil blank slate a couple of years ago. Since 2001, she has seen Neil EIGHT times. She's not hesitant to tell you, either. So I have been very successful in developing a magnificent RSO, and have no complaints.
Sitting that close is like having one's face pressed to the fish bowl, and all of the action taking place around Neil is a bit overwhelming. That big red devil dancing across the stage--everyone else in the joint is laughing at him, but I'm focusing on that little bump he gives Neil as he passes him. Just a mild little bump against Neil's back--nice touch.
And sun--watching her run around the stage in her schoolgirl outfit was like a fast-motion version of watching her move around the hotel lobby. I was starting to lose perspective here--was I still at the hotel? Was I at the show?
And then on the porch is Nancy Hall, whom I had just gotten done interviewing across a little table in a Japanese restaurant--She had told me, "Make sure and cheer when I come out!"
So I did. And Grandma was there on the porch. I had just been talking to her in the hotel lobby as well, and later, before the show, had seen her walking up 15th Street, and yelled "There goes Grandma!" and everybody around me thought I was nuts.
Much easier, then, at the show, just to focus on Neil--especially since he was standing six-feet-tall right in front of me--the stage was elevated only about three feet--
And Neil seemed to be insisting on lunging right at me with every solo burst on New Gold--
I was lost for what seemed hours in concentrating on his fingers playing his axe--real Neil Guitar Tunnel Vision!!!
I've never been to a show where I watched Neil's fingers so long and with such obsessive concentration--
So I didn't get up and dance at first--I stood up at the end of every song and cheered Neil--one of the few to do so for the early songs--but I thought it was important to give him all the positive feedback and support that my frontrow deadcenter seat could provide him--
I also stood up and powerfisted the air when Neil sang "Some people have taken pure bull**** and turned it into gold."
I was singing every song along with Neil but nobody minded because it was so loud no one could hear me. Nevertheless, one of the people in Neil's crew had told me that it means a lot to the Greendalians when people at the shows know the words.
Grandpa's Interview is a great song--I don't care what anybody says--it's not just noodling around--at least not when Neil is noodling around RIGHT IN YOUR FACE! Neil was in profile to us for much of his rocking during Greendale, and at one point when NB was actually sitting down, we were both just staring at Neil right in front of us, we were transfixed, and Neil had his shirt flowing and was doing his Neil dance and scowling and playing his wild gold guitar and NB said to me.
"He's BEAUTIFUL. HE'S beautiful. *He's beautiful.* HE'S BEAUTIFUL."
She was pretty wasted.
Date: Tue Feb 24, 2004 8:20 pm
Subject: FrontRow: Be the Pain
I'd continued on my best behavior through Sun Green. But I leapt up for Be the Rain and didn't sit down for the rest of the concert--which at this point was, what, only half over?? How long was this show?? Three hours??? Jeeee-zaz.
It did not feel like three hours. Hanging around in a hotel lobby for three hours feels like three hours. This show did not feel like three hours.
So I became the FrontRow Wildman at this point and started pogoing and I was singing with my arms in the air as I jumped up and down and everyone from the hotel lobby started coming out onto the stage and they were all lining up in front of me--
And the Mountainettes came out and they could see me and Nancy was laughing and Grandma remembered me from the lobby and she stared at me all through the show, like, "Who's this lunatic?" I was being a pain. Be the Pain.
It's true that Sun Green danced for Jim Beller last night. It's also true that she danced for me. She danced RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. She does not shave her legs, as others have pointed out here. She even has a little hair on her tummy. She is a good dancer, especially when she is right in your face. I gave her a lot of close attention in order to study her artistic interpretation of, uh, the social and cultural and political themes in Neil Young's work.
Ben was sitting right in front of me. And that black guy who's the professional dancer was leaping around.
I started doing all the BTR hand motions because I know them all know--the river-rolling motions, the rain-falling-fingertips motions--all of them. You have to know them or Nancy and Twink won't think you're cool and won't give you thumbs up, or even laugh at you as you're leaping around waving your arms.
This song went on and on and on, as usual. The Imitators came out and danced. Who is that Imitator with the long black hair? I had seen him get into the elevator at the hotel with Neil and Ben. I'd also seen him working around the trucks. Then during Sun Green he'd been playing a broom. I guess he has to do everything Neil Young says.
This is a hard-driving song. I like it a lot. I have pogoed to it in four different cities now. The song clocks in at 96 minutes and I usually start to lose consciousness around the 84th minute of leaping up and down. I have no idea how these people do this every night. I couldn't walk to the mailbox today.
The song went on and on and on and on. And on. And on and on and on.
Then it was over and everybody lined up in front of me and I waved to all of the people I had met. They did the Big Bow. Neil was all happy and stuff.
I could not believe that Greendale was over, and I wondered if I would ever have the opportunity to see the show again. I could not believe how FAST the show had gone by. It had been a blizzard before my eyes. There were ten more songs to go and THEY would be a blizzard before my eyes as well. What is going on in the Neil/Time Continuum?? Everything seemed very speeded-up. Maybe just in comparison to hanging out in a hotel lobby for a coupla days. I dunno.
I knew one thing though--this was my one restroom break. I turned around and there were about 3000 HOGTTs standing behind me, standing and clapping and waiting for more. They did not know this was the break! So I started running through them. I felt like a zygote swimming through the warm darkness of the Neil night. There was so much pot in the air it was turning my hair green. I spied the rectangular lights of the doors straight ahead and went out into the hallway and downstairs to the men's room.
It was one thing to be recognized at the fest, of course, but ever since I'd gotten to the venue, all kindsa people I didn't know had been stopping me and shaking my hand--before the show--people came up to the front row--before they were preventing people from doing so--and shook my hand and said they read my posts and stuff. I have no idea who these folks were--but thanks--I always got stopped in the hallway, I guess after people had seen me sitting up front and figured out who I was, you lurkers you--anyway--
I was standing at the urinal and this guy standing next to me starts talking. This total stranger says to me, as we're doing our business, "You weren't dancing much, Bob."
"With your reputation, I thought you'd be dancing all through the show."
"I'll dance through the second half of the show."
I could not believe that I was disappointing people I did not even know by not dancing through all of Greendale. This is a weird world all right. Or at least the Neil world is.
We stepped away from the urinals and when this guy--Scott from Santa Cruz, it turned out, flushed his, it overflowed--I said "Pee the Rain!" and there was some laughter.
I ran out of the restroom and I could already hear Watchtower, fast and furious reverberating through all of the plaster in the place. What is it with these short Neil breaks? Is he not human? Does he never need to use the rest room? How much time does Grandma Green spend in there? Sun? Doesn't Neil have to line up behind them back stage?
Back in the auditorium, I had to make my way back, in the dark, through these 8000 rows of standing, pot-smoking people--I just kept going and going and going, imagining I was a Scott Young zygote swimming through the Ontario night in 1945--and then I finally got back to the front row. I flipped my wristband at the rentacop there. When you're in front row at some venues, you get a wristband--the only row that gets them--in order to keep other people away from the stage. They did this in San Diego too. Pretty good system.
Soon I was standing in front of Neil and Billy and Poncho as they played the loudest version of AATW you could imagine, and it felt like my ears were starting to bleed, and they went through that song fast and loud and loud and fast, and Neil had lost his hat, he was gloriously bald, and I'd never seen him so unabashedly bald, as though he remembered that I had seen him hatless at the hotel, so let it all hang out, over twenty years ago when I saw him the first time he had just started going bald back there, now he could put a trashcan lid over it, anyway he was stomping around and smiling with his big bald head practically in my face, with all of that gray hair growing around the bald spot like the stringy fungus on some weird old melon, and they rocked--
verily they rocked--
Date: Tue Feb 24, 2004 10:35 pm
Subject: FrontRow: Encores for the Hardcore
I can name that tune in one note. Really, I can, if it's a Neiltune. When I heard the first note of P'finger, I knew what it was, and I couldn't believe he was playing it--hadn't there been some resentment at the, uh, was it the Vancouver show, because someone had requested it and he hadn't played it? Isn't it something of an overplayed song? Not that I mind a hot fiery Powderfinger aimed right at my leaping quivering body, of course.
I've seen Neil only 14 times--although I've been known to jet off to, uh, Phoenix for a show, I'm not one of these guys who jets off to Winnipeg for the Squires Reunion and has seen Neil 391 times. Although, uh, I'd LIKE to be one of those guys, and maybe sometime will. Anyway--I think Neil has played bleepin Powderfinger every single one of the 14 times I've seen him.
And last night, as usual, I sang every word of it with my arms outstretched. Every time the rifle was mentioned, I made a rifle out of my two hands and raised them. This cracked Neil up.
It's a great feeling cracking Neil up.
It's also a great feeling when you get the sense that Neil is playing for you, because he is lunging at you over and over again with Old Black, and your fist is pumping the air right in front of Old Black, and then your fingers start making spidery shapes in the air right in front of Old Black as Neil is playing it and laughing at you.
That is, uh, well, uh, kinda sorta cool.
The Losing End? I can name that tune in one note!! I must confess that I had never heard Neil perform this little classic. I sang every word of it with my arms outstretched. Neil was singing it a little slow for my taste, but I had to follow his lead. That's because he's in charge of the concert and stuff. I really belted this one out, with my hands waving in front of Old Black. It is a very emotional song for me.
I notice that on Tom Hambleton's Sugar Mountain Setlists, he's got Powderfinger/The Losing End listed as a medley. Hey, Tom, I was right there, and I dunno, IT IS ALL ONE SONG, at least it is to me. The whole dang show is a medley. But if you have some medley criterion that I'm unaware of, please share. I remember a gap between Billy's two front teeth, but I do not remember a gap between Powderfinger and The Losing End.
But hey, according to your site, it's a first for Sacramento. Maybe the world. The Powderfinger/Losing End medley. I like it.
It was actually a pretty big EKTIN night, as it turned out. All through the EKTIN songs, of course, they had the cover for ZUMA projected behind the band. This stayed up only until they actually *played* a song from Zuma, Cortez. Then it was just the red horse with NY&CH spelled around it. Swift work there!
Right after the first Powderfinger/Losing End medley in all of Neil History came only the fourth performance of The Old Country Waltz. I was ready for this one!
The Mountainettes came out onto the porch to sing back-up. I was looking right at my friend Nancy Hall with my arms stretched out in front of Neil Young as I sang every single danged word of The Old Country Waltz. I am sure that I have known this song about 25 years longer than the average Mountainette has known it. Twink Brewer looked completely amazed. First she had been astounded that I knew her in the lobby. Now she was astounded that I knew every word of what she no doubt considered an "obscure" Neil Young song.
During the instrumental, I grabbed my pretty lady and waltzed her in circles in the front row.
This was becoming one heck of a party!
After this, the EKTIN revival continued with the title track, EKTIN. I kept trying to get NB to sing along but she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't even do the "La lala la lalala" parts. I seemed to be having trouble getting Billy and Poncho to do these parts too.
What is it with everyone??
Sing the danged song!
I invented all kindsa cool hand motions for this song too. "...what it's like down heeeeeeeeeeere"--and I would take my thumb and drag it all the way down from Old Black height down to the stage, which was starting to give me splinters in my fist.
It was still all one song as Neil burst into Cinnamon Girl, another little ditty I seem to be hearing a lot in the front row these days--the one in San Diego had been downright explosive.
Everybody in the MemAud seemed to know this song. Way to go, Sacramento. You are the coolest valley people north of Fresno. I love you guys.
I let NB dance in front of me and I pogoed like a maniac behind her. Another nice thing about FrontRow is all the space you have--the space of two rows, really, so you can put your girlfriend in front of you whenever you feel you've been hearing Cinnamon Girl pretty regularly in the front row...
The one in San Diego was a bit more brutal and precise, I thought, but, heck, that song ain't ever bad.
And the crowd sure was eating it up.
I returned to my post at the railing for Cortez--I had been wanting Dangerbird, but was already pretty spoiled with Waltz and Losing End. Cortez was like a long dripping bottle of rum, but without the Jamaican Neil, as others have already given public thanks. I just held NB in my arms all through it. It was a very spiritual moment. I thought again, "This is the most important music in my life." It was wonderful to have Neil Young swaying right there in front of us as NB and I held each other and Neil swayed with the music and we swayed with it and he rained all of that slow mighty Aztec music down on our heads from the magical black guitar he was playing his magical hands upon...
Neil and the boys then erupted into HHMM. Another crowd pleaser. Another song I've heard at every show for over twenty years. Another song I never get tired of.
For this song I alternated my movements. On Ralph's big drumbeats I pounded the stage. I believe it is very important to pound a stage during this song if there is a stage handy and nearby. There was, so I did. Then I leapt in the air to join Neil in the vocals. Then, during frenzied guitar work, I held both my hands out with my fingers fluttering wildly right in front of Old Black, which Neil was lunging at me with. If he was trying to kill me with that guitar he darn near succeeded.
Actually, we were like, feeding off each other. Sharing a vibe. Relating to each other in ways in which people do not relate to each other in lobbies. Only in the Sacred Front Row.
This was the end of the first encore. In celebration, somebody threw this humungous bud onto the stage. Huge. It was the size of a man's fist. It looked like a big green pinecone of weed. It landed near Poncho's feet and he, incredibly, ignored it.
The Horse did their bow, then left the stage. After they had gone, a roadie picked up the monster bud and set it on the corner of the base of Ralph's drumkit.
The crowd was on its feet, screaming for more.
Date: Wed Feb 25, 2004 11:21 am
Subject: FrontRow Sac: The Final Encore
Before I tell you all about the last two songs at Sacramento, I want to go back to Powderfinger and tell about something I'd left out.
I had stopped taking notes about halfway through Greendale, which was a long time ago in a 3-hour show, and in fact I was no longer looking at the show analytically. I wasn't even counting the encores (as I have done at other shows), as I was completely swept up emotionally in the experience of being in the front row with Neil and the boys stomping around in front of me. I did not realize till after the show, for instance, that we had tied the Red Rocks record for 20 songs on a Greendale tour.
This was a very special gift from Neil Young to Sacramento. Thank you, Neil! I have a feeling this record will stand for a while.
Neil was giving us just about everything we wanted that night--well, a Neil show of about 400 songs would probably be too short, especially in the front row--and I think it was because we were such a good audience for him, listening and responding to all of his Greendale stories, and giving him a lot of enthusiastic--dare I say insanely leaping--response during the encores.
Anyway--during Powderfinger I did take some mental time to analyze how the band works. Each of Neil's solos on Powderfinger was more intense and twisted than the previous. It was one of the firiest versions of this song I ever heard--and I have heard it a lot. There were a lot of jalapenos mixed into this one. Each time that Neil ratcheted up the heat, it was uncertain whether he had been planning to go to the mic or not for the next verse--each time you thought he was going to go to the mic, he danced and stomped and Neil-danced in front of us and leaned over and played more blistering guitar. I was very much sharing this experience with Billy and Poncho, who were standing together, off to the side, and I could read the uncertainty on their faces--not panic or anything--they were just watching Neil to see what he would do next.
The whole world watches Neil to see what he will do next.
So it was extremely interesting to bond with Billy and Poncho in this way, all of us waiting to see what Neil would do, wondering if we would have to sing or just go berzerk with Neil.
Interesting dynamic to see played out like that, up-close, watching the expressions on Billy and Poncho's faces.
Okay, now I'm going to tell about the last two songs, after they came back out onto the stage for the second set of encores. Though I'm not even sure the term "encore" has meaning anymore. As I said earlier, these concerts are structured like the early CSNY shows, or Rust Never Sleeps or other tours, with the Greendale material (though electrified) intended to work like the more intimate acoustic material that would comprise the first part of a show. And in point of fact, it's hard to see how the, uh, entire second half of a show can constitute an "encore." But it's the term we use.
Although I do enjoy Roll Another Number, and was making joint-rolling motions right in front of Neil every time he sang about rolling a number, I'm always just a little sad when I hear this song, because 87.3% of the time he's played this song since 1987 it's meant the show is going to be over soon!
A couple of innaresting things happened during this song.
Neil, kinda, uh, almost forgot the words. I guess that's appropriate in a song about pot. There was a moment there where he didn't know what to sing--the next line was "I'm not going back to Woodststock for a while"--and he kinda stood there trying to remember where he was in the song, the muscles in his face twisting themselves around the problem. Then he had it and he sang the line and I helped him sing it, my palms sweeping upward toward him as if to say "There ya go, buddy!"
The other innaresting thing that happened during this song was that Poncho lit up what looked like, uh, a, uh, cigarette and stood there smoking it, this little white thing dangling off his lip as he played. Poncho just thinks he is cooler than cool. He really does believe he is the coolest cat who ever strode upon the earth--I am beginning to believe that's what he thinks.
He also seems to think that he's some kinda intellectual, the "cerebral" and "philosophical" one in the rhythm section--which is a feeling I guess most anyone would get after playing with Billy and Ralphie for thirty years. There is something lovable about the intact innocence of guys like Billy and Ralphie though. I don't mean moral innocence. I just mean that there's something very human and genuine about those two guys that they've never lost, despite all these years in the limelight.
Maybe Neil has kept them humble.
Anyway, this cool cat, Poncho, at the end of the song, drops the, uh--whatever kinda cigarette it was--out of his mouth and stubs it out with his sneaker, as though he is the coolest guy in the world.
Hey Pancho--we have, uh, fire regulations in the theater in this town. Not that that stopped anyone from turning the auditorium into a huge box of potsmoke all night!
So if that was just a cigarette, Poncho was the only person that night smoking tobacco.
When the first notes of RITFW exploded out of Old Black, the whole place was leaping again. This song was total bliss from the front row, and was seemingly endless, an eternal jam. It grew crazier and crazier and crazier as it went on. Neil has all kindsa new lyrics for it too, but I couldn't tell you what they all are. I kept waiting for "losing boys every day cause we didn't have a plan"--but didn't hear that. Instead, I suspect Neil has all sorts of new political commentary he's putting in there, and masking it behind the guitar distortion. Much as he masked himself during Trans, I suspect. Funny how Neil sometimes feels he has to hide his true feelings. I'll have to analyze a tape of this Sacto show. As it stands, I was just a few feet from him, and I couldn't understand everything he was shouting into the feedback-drenched squall of this mighty ferocious song.
For the insane instrumentals, however, I mimicked all of his movements right in front of him--I reached out towards Old Black each time Neil lunged at me with it, and I made all kindsa magical fluttering motions with my fingers as he assaulted that old weapon--and I jumped in the air and stomped down each time those long Neil legs rose in the air and that big-sneakered Neilfoot stomped down on the stomp box.
What an incredible experience! Being so close to Neil and Blackie and being a total unthinking part of all of that incredible energy!
As Neil's playing became more stormy, wild, twisted, and--yes--enraged, I held my forefingers out like a conductor and made motions like I was conducting the band. Apparently a lot of people in the venue thought this was a crack-up, because I heard a lot about it after the show.
I was shouting things like--"Yeah, play the hell outa that guitar" and "YEAH STOMP THAT ****EN BOX!!"--it was like I was shouting in the middle of a storm.
Nothing in this song seemed excessive--not from where I was--the closer you get to Neil, the more some things make sense. Not intellectually. But in terms of FEELING and just being swept away.
There was a moment near the end when the music was completely taking over--one of those magical moments when Neil Young does not appear to be in charge anymore--as though this song were a mighty windstorm, and it was blowing Neil around the stage, as though some power were shaking out from Old Black, and shaking Neil, and shaking the air, and then I felt my outstretched fingers being moved independently in the air by this power!
It was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had at a concert. I fully now know that Neil has tapped into Unseen Powers because I FELT THEM. They are real and Neil has the power to conduct into them.
During taps I stood there saluting, purely as a satirical statement.
And then even Neil's prolonged teaser-ending did not seem excessive, but entirely appropriate--Neil has to stand there trying to SHAKE these Powers out of his guitar so that he can stop the song and go home!
Date: Wed Feb 25, 2004 10:06 pm
Subject: Sacramento: What an Experience!
You know that feeling when you have just experienced a cataclysmically great Neil Young show and you are wandering in your broken body out of the venue with your friends and you hit the cool air of the night...
As I wandered out into the street with NB and with her friend Angela, Angela handed me one of the Ralph Molina drumsticks. I had watched, at the very end of the show, as Ralphie had descended from his drumkit and crossed the stage to hand our friend Angela both sticks! Because she had been blowing kisses at him all night!
Now, as a reward for getting her into the front row, she had presented me with one of the sticks, which was regarded as a holy relic by the Rusties gathering around me.
Along with Meleya, we went around to the back of the venue to check out the scene with the busses. People I didn't know, who had been watching me throughout the show, stopped me to chat and laugh and shake my hand and admire my stick. This other guy with a stick came up and we compared sticks. His was a bundle of thinner ones, strapped together with red tape. Ralph had thrown it at the end of Greendale and this fellow had caught it. He offered me money for my officially signed stick, but I held onto it.
They had all the busses cordoned off with yellow tape. We were standing across the street from Neil's bus, facing the side of the bus with the front door. We knew Neil would have to come around the bus and enter through that door.
So what does Neil do? He gives orders that his bus be turned around so that nobody can see him board it!
You should have seen what this entailed. It was about midnight on a Monday night, so there shouldn't have been much traffic, but Neil's little move inconvenienced about 100 carloads of people. The driver pulled the bus out into the intersection while rentacops stopped traffic with handheld stop signs. Then the bus driver attempted to back up--Neil's bus makes loud beep beep beep sounds as it backs up. Unfortunately, Neil's bus was backing up right into an orange cone and a sawhorse, and this fat rentacop went running in between the bus and these items in an effort to save them--this guy was almost run over! The orange cone got flattened but the sawhorse and the fat rentacop were spared.
The bus then proceeds to do this complicated eighteen-point-turn in this tight intersection so that it can completely turn around so that its front door will face the back of the venue instead of facing the street--all of this so that Neil Young doesn't have to walk around the front of his bus in order to board it!
When the intersection was finally clear, about a hundred cars were released on 16th Street. I stood there laughing, realizing that none of these frustrated drivers knew the reason that they had been held up in downtown Sacramento in the middle of the night.
So we couldn't watch anybody board the bus. But we stood there until the bus drove away, and we were waving our drumsticks and Greendale showbills as Neil disappeared into the night.
But I was a pretty contented Rustie. I had exchanged greetings with Neil in the hotel lobby, seen his dog the same night, seen Pegi and Ben and Zeke and Sun Green the next day, had met Ralph Molina and gotten his autograph, had met Twink Brewer and gotten her autograph, had taken a telephone call at my house from Nancy Hall and gotten a Broken Arrow interview from her as well as an autograph, had scored 24 shows at the RustFest, had sat front-row dead-center for the longest show so far of the Winter Tour, and had even ended up with a drumstick.
What more could there possibly be to wish for?
I walked across the street to my car a very happy man. My house was only fourteen blocks away.
Long live Neil Young. Long live Greendale. Long live Crazy Horse. There is nothing better in life than this.
02-23-2004, Memorial Auditorium, Sacramento, California w/ Crazy Horse
1. Falling From Above
2. Double E
3. Devil's Sidewalk
4. Leave The Driving
7. Grandpa's Interview
8. Bringin' Down Dinner
9. Sun Green
10. Be The Rain
11. All Along The Watchtower
13. The Losing End
14. The Old Country Waltz
15. Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
16. Cinnamon Girl
17. Cortez The Killer
18. Hey Hey, My My
19. Roll Another Number
20. Rockin' In The Free World
Setlist thanks to Tom at Sugar Mountain and Bad News Beat.
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Neil Young's Greendale
Concert Reviews of Neil Young
Thrasher's Wheat - A Neil Young Archives