Album Review: Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Psychedelic Pill

With news of a new Neil Young album it's difficult not to wonder which artist we're going to get. In a 40-plus-year career he's offered up some legendary albums and also some real turkeys. For every After The Goldrush there's Everybody's Rocking. One useful indication is the presence of his rock band Crazy Horse. Young loves them for their feel, and their willingness to stick to a groove and allow him to solo endlessly over the top. There's no denying Crazy Horse bring out the best in Neil primarily because they make him get electric.

Which leads us to Psychedelic Pill, and from the opening chords of the 27-and-a-half-minute Drifting Back, it's clear that Young is back where he belongs, wielding epic ramshackle garage jams out of the ether. There's something reassuring about finding him here: big, loud, noisy, loose and lumbering, lost in a reverie, guitar flailing in full flight, buoyed by Crazy Horse's rough-hewn energy.

Psychedelic Pill is an album drowning in reflection and aging, possibly the overflow from his recently-published autobiography, Waging Heavy Peace. He rails against mp3s, the commercialisation of art and the death of the hippy dream, yet also tips his hat to Dylan, and delivers a rousing tune about his birthplace in Ontario.

At more than 87 minutes, Psychedelic Pill is Young's longest album, a double-disc set providing plenty of space between the extended hypnotic riffs for a man intent on looking backwards. In fact it's the combination of earnest nostalgia and ragged anthemic playing that makes Psychedelic Pill so rewarding, demonstrating that as a unit Neil and Crazy Horse still have something to say. “She likes to burn,” he offers on She's Always Dancing, and the same could be said for Young. Four decades on and he's still playing with matches.