Directed by Young under the moniker Bernard Shakey, the film captures the outfit at a tricky juncture: Johnny Rotten was the new Elvis, and Young's brand of classic rock was all but dead. Young responded with some of his fiercest songs ever, showcased in a five-week series of shows that might be called postmodern if they weren't so trippy. Oversize vintage amp facades rim the stage, and roadies dressed as the Jawas from Star Wars scurry about as Young and Crazy Horse channel-surf through fifteen years of music, from hippie odes such as "Sugar Mountain" to blaring wake-up calls on the order of "Powderfinger." "During rehearsals," Sampedro recalls, "Neil was saying we were gonna be like little kids playing in this huge garage, kind of taken with the innocence of rock & roll again." It worked: By the time the tour ended, Young had effectively buried his hippie past and would soon begin staking out the guitar-noise turf that would lead to bands like Nirvana. Here, Young doesn't just sing rock & roll can never die; he proves it.
LC SMITH
(Oct 17, 2002)
(Posted: Sep 30, 2002)
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