Old Man

I have written before about the risk you take when you go to see those musicians who mean a lot. I have also written before about artists who continue to grow and develop into old age. They become the concentrated essence of everything they ever have and ever will be. Others just continue to perform as parodies of their former selves.I'm not going to name them, but you will have your own thoughts about that I am sure. So Crosby and Nash, Ravi Shankar, Patti Smith count among my essentials, my immortals. There are other artists that I got to see years after their first influence on my life - James Taylor, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan. I'd still make an effort to see Jackson Brown again too. Recently I have had an urge to see Van Morrison once more for old times sake. Sometimes it's about nostalgia, or even the bucket list. Driving back from the Neil Young and Crazy Horse last night I was trying to process what I felt about the experience. As the man behind me said to his girlfriend 'You either like Neil Young's feedback or you don't'. I suspect she didn't. I do. And I liked the tender old stuff, Heart of Gold. The magnificent Walk Like a Giant - we did all the way back to the car.The homage to Woodstock 'keep away from the towers' and the rain chant. The homage to Dylan and 60s radicalism Blowing in the Wind.Buffalo Springfield memories with Mr Soul. Cinnamon Girl.There was a lot of history in the room and on the stage. The Psychedelic Pill slipped down a treat. Four old men showing how it can be done, when the music has become part of your being, your soul. Most of the time they were playing to one another, not to the audience, but the side screens helped us to witness what was going on. My concert companion and I had concerns about having to buy 'standing ' tickets. Neil Young and Crazy Horse played with passion and energy for almost two and a half hours. Lessons learnt from the Old Man.