Rd 1 Murderers

B

'Cortez' always bored the shit out of me, it's no better than something off one of those early Genesis LPs. Tedious hippy wank, completely up its own arse.

B by default (which at least has some sense of fun, some life)

A Well, here's a place to start. Let me tell you a story. Although I was a Buffalo Springfield fan, from there I went on to Crosby Stills and Nash, and while I must have heard the early Neil solo albums - there were a lot of them about in the circles I staggered in – they didn't really sink in, and they were overshadowed in my memory by the acoustic and whine albums, which tended to anger me. as a result, I didn't hear Tonight's the Night, Crazy Horse, or indeed any of his albums until I heard Like a Hurricane somewhere, somehow, and was transfixed - this would be sometime late in 1977, I was in thrall to punk and post, going on 29 years old, working in a job I was growing to hate, single, and immeasurably fucked up. And even later that year, I was visiting my school buddy Clive at his sea-front flat in Aberystwyth, and waxing strong about Like a Hurricane (he's a long-time Neil fan) and he kind of smiles and pulls out a copy of Zuma, and asks if I've heard it, and I shook my head. So he put on this track, and it shook my head to pieces

I do go on about my lack of musical theory, of being able to describe the way a piece of music is, how it does what it does (not that it bothers me - as a fully paid-up member of the Romantic Tendency, I'm happy with mystery and sublimity, don't have to define and explain, I'm happy suspended in awe and wonder, negative capability shining on full beam), but this track did/does something to me that still echoes more than four decades later. And of course the lyrics are risible hippie tosh - coca leaves and pearls my arse – and the tempo plods sometimes, but something, maybe the 'tune', maybe the vocals but mostly of course the tone of that guitar, the keening, wailing, howling, lamenting guitar full of barely restrained tension, pulling against that Igor-stomp bass, that's what sets this apart from a Genesis epic. The old Carthusians are making music out of wanting to apply their intelligence. Neil Young's gonzo playing is a Roman Candle of sparkling noise. I suspect he is a Romantic himself: the unmediated emotions - loss, longing, melancholy, heartache, righteous anger, resignation - just poured out in a way that grabbed hold of me at a time in my life when I was lost and mildly destroyed, still mourning my father, wanting to be someone different: it still resonates inside me now when I listen, though obviously not as much as it did then. A year later I stepped off the cliff and gave up the nine to five. I'm not saying this record caused that, but it was part of the process. I still find it sad and rather beautiful.

B This one I don't know, but I do like a bit of speed-metal.It gets the ardenaline going, for sure, though the drumming lags a bit. And I kept wanting them to speed up a bit. I was always looking for a crescendo that never came – oh, there it is. About bleeding time. Enjoyed that, but the vocals let it down a bit.


Have A guess

I can't imagine two tracks so appart in terms of distance to my musical interest. B is good for what it is, but it's a kind of music that never clicked with me, while Neil is in the core of my musical universe. Not the track I'd choose for this theme (I was considering a different NY song) but a great track no doubt.

A

A, the guitar sound which launched a thousand 90s indie rock songs, is just a slog..B, the lesser of the tracks on that album to be honest, at least has interesting drums..Vote B

Did anyone choose Ini Kamoze's "Here Comes the Hotstepper" for this theme? I wanted to, but had far too many songs about murderers to throw a joke choice into the mix. Even though it would get more votes than what I have picked. And I feel most unkind being rude about a song when Ray has written so eloquently about the time and place and meaning. But I am finding this very, very dreary indeed. The vocal line reminds me of Visions of Johanna played at 16 rpm. All I'm getting from this is images of balding fat men air-guitaring solemnly into ashtrays.

B is a fucking killer. Absolute stone-cold classic. I think Ray's right about the drums, to be fair, they're the only thing that's providing any kind of restraint, but from the opening riff and Tom Araya's scream, it's a pure release of energy and fun. Big chunky fun. But not in some kind of chubby-chasing sexual way, weirdos. Coulda picked "Jesus Saves" or "Raining Blood", having said that, just for a change. Kerry King's soloing at 3:35 point is the absolute ideal of the idiom in my view; fast, stupidly fast, but full of tension, excitement, and it actually has a musical purpose within the song, which is what so much metal seems to miss. Beautiful.

I’ve got no problem with Slayer but I’ve got a lot of love for what Neil was doing in those days.

A