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On June 23rd, 2003 I drove to Toronto to see Neil Young. It was a last minute decision; I think I grabbed tickets online that morning or possibly the night before. I suppose there’s even a chance I bought tickets from someone outside of the venue, something that I don’t do too often (aside from Phish concerts I guess). It’s also not very often that I’m late for a concert, but I was late for this one and that’s a shame.
Neil Young was touring his recently-released rock opera Greendale, and instead of a regular concert Neil presented an abstract musical set in the small, fictional California town of Greendale, complete with actors and elaborate sets. I was completely oblivious to the tour or the album and when I raced into the Air Canada Centre I was taken aback to find Neil’s guitar tech (and occasional banjo player) on the stage sitting in a rocking chair on a mock front porch.
My seat was in the lower bowl with the stage some distance away to my left. Surprised as I was to find that it wasn’t a regular show combined with coming in late meant I had trouble getting my bearings. Neil was there with his guitar playing songs I didn’t recognize amid sets and actors delivering lines I had trouble making out given my proximity (or lack thereof) to the action.
I had no idea what was going on but I didn’t care. I am very forgiving of Neil Young because I always find myself a few steps behind the guy, or at least I used to. That is, I often found myself not getting the stuff he was doing until a few years after he did it. Eventually something would always click for me and I would finally be along for the ride, only to find Neil on a whole new track again. So I’ve learned to just pay attention and do my best to appreciate what the man is up to.
It turns out there were many others that cared very much that they were being subjected to this oddity when they were expecting an evening of Old Man and Heart Of Gold. These people booed and jeered and called out the titles of one Neil Young song after another. People were leaving in droves; you’d think it was a Bob Dylan concert. I feel a little sad for these people – there was a show very much worth enjoying happening on the stage, even if it wasn’t the show they had hoped for. I didn’t feel sad for Neil though. I think he thrives on this sort of thing.
Those that made it to the encore were treated with some classic Crazy Horse: Hey Hey, My My and Like A Hurricane. Those that made it to the second encore got even more gold with Love and Only Love, Powderfinger, and the apropos show-ender, Roll Another Number (For The Road).
Thank-you Neil for raising your own bar yet again, even though you knew it might hurt a little.
Todd Man Out 