Album Review: Neil Young – Live at the Cellar Door

Neil Young - Live at the Cellar DoorOver the years, Neil Young’s teased and promised his archives project. To date, only one volume’s seen release, covering the first phase of his career: the early years, success with Buffalo Springfield, a turn to psychedelic rock with Crazy Horse and overwhelming success with Harvest.

This release has been augmented by a series of archival live albums, some of which fit into the archives set and others that don’t. And more than few show him as a folky singer-songwriter. There’s the Canterbury House album, recorded in 1968 and the source for his classic “Sugar Mountain”. Two are from Toronto: one in 1969 at The Riverboat, when he was a still-unsure solo artist and one from 1971 that’s the sound of a man returning home full of confidence with a number of classic songs to his credit.

But in December 1970 he was somewhere in the middle of those extremes. He’d recently released the classic After the Gold Rush, a hodgepodge of Crazy Horse rock, acoustic folk and CSNY harmonizing. The sessions for Harvest were months in the future and a North American tour was on the near horizon. More importantly, he was getting ready for a his first appearance at New York’s Carnegie Hall.

As he prepped for those gigs, he spent a few days at Washington’s Cellar Door nightclub, a tiny, intimate spot that featured some great music; Miles Davis recorded a live album there just days later.

Here, as Young tried out some new material and honed old Buffalo Springfield songs into form for his big night, he recorded everything, then put it away for 43 years. Now the six shows have been condensed to a 45-minute collection of 13 songs. The resulting album is a fascinating look at Young’s early career. The songs are generally familiar, but everything feels a little different. Some have a different arrangement, others a different feeling. It’s a compelling listen for Young diehards but there are moments to interest even a casual fan.

Young’s voice opens the album with a happy “Hi folks,” and starts in with an acoustic guitar-led version of “Tell Me Why”. It’s part of an opening group of songs off the recently released album, After the Gold Rush: this, “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” and the album’s title track.

For that one, Young moves to the piano. Later in the record he jokes he’s only been playing for a year, but even so he’s got a firm grasp of the instrument. On the next song “Expecting to Fly”, his playing quickens on the chorus and builds up the tension, climaxing with sudden, crashing chords as he yelps about the relationship that “ended with a cry.”

It’s back to the guitar for two then-unreleased songs: “Bad Fog of Loneliness” and “Old Man”. They sound different here: on “Bad Fog” he sounds almost hesitant, like it’s a work in progress. It’s a quick one, too: over in less than two minutes.

 

Meanwhile, “Old Man” is downright fascinating: there’s a little intro that’s not there elsewhere and the guitar playing sounds just a little different, too, although I can’t put my finger on exactly what. It’s weird to hear the first notes without everyone erupting into applause, but then you remember: this is the live debut of the song. And man, he pours himself into it, just about shouting the chorus as he bangs out the guitar part. The crowd likes it, too.

Part of the reason why people seek out bootlegs or archival albums like this is because of those moments where things are slightly different and exciting. Almost nobody pays money for a scratchy tape because they want an aural souvenir; they buy it to hear different lyrics or an unfamiliar arrangement. This is one of those moments.

 

So while everyone’s heard “Cinnamon Girl” and it’s snarling guitars and CSNY diehards remember the acoustic guitar version from Four-Way Street, here’s a new, unfamiliar version played on piano. It sounds jaunty, I suppose, but when it gets to the bridge, it’s startling: Young’s voice is thin as the piano builds and for a moment, Young almost gets carried away for a moment before bringing it back to the chorus. He smirks afterward. “That’s the first time I ever did that one on the piano,” he says afterward. So far as I know, it was the last time, too.

It’s back to the guitar for two more familiar songs: “I Am A Child” and “Down by the River”. Hell, “River” even gets some claps at the beginning. Here it’s slower and sadder, coming across as a song about regret. He works his voice up to a shout on the chorus, pounding on his acoustic, and then retreats to almost whispering the line “shot her dead, shot her dead.”

The album closes with a strong piano version of “Flying on the Ground is Wrong”. Young opens up by strumming the piano strings, evoking laughs from the audience and jokes with the audience.  “I’ve been playing piano seriously for almost a year,” he jokes, “and I had it put in my contract that I’d only play a nine-foot Steinway.”

Okay, so maybe we didn’t need another early 70’s Young solo concert. Like I said: generally speaking, this is territory that’s well covered already. But I’m still happy to get this one: there’s a magic here with a performance that’s sometimes self-mocking, sometimes downright intense but compelling nonetheless.

Rating: 3.5/5 – Between the early version of “Old Man”, the different version of “Cinnamon Girl” and a cross-section of older material, it’s like hearing the two sides of Young’s music: where he was coming from and where he was about to go. As such, it’s a fascinating snapshot of a young Neil Young. Still, I wish he’d get around to releasing Archives Volume Two.