'Year of the Horse' is an underrated live set from Young, panned as lacking enthusiasm (those not familiar with Young may not realize that not every song he writes was intended as an 'ace-in-the-hole' for American Idol), or for retreading old territory by asking, "Do we really need another live version of 'When You Dance', 'Mr. Soul', 'Pocahontas', or 'Sedan Delivery'"? To even modestly addicted Neil fans, the immediate and immutable response is, "YES!". Consider that popular among the more rabid of us are web sites that attempt, with some precision, to detail every song ever performed at every concert by Young (check out the Sugar Mountain web site). Now, that's rabid. The appeal of alternate takes on any Young song becomes especially pertinent since Neil, like his chosen mentors Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix, so frequently reinvents his compositions. On this disc, 'Mr. Soul' is a case in point. Here we have a mid-60's souped up, fuel injected hot rod from Buffalo Springfield that has morphed into an acoustic blues romp, with Neil's 6 strings sounding loose enough to be falling off the guitar with each strum. Young's ode to Hendrix appears at the end of a high octane 'Prisoners Of Rock n' Roll', as he breaks into a psychedelic 'Star Spangled Banner'.

The set list for 'Horse' is remarkably diverse as Neil highlights such gems as 'When You Dance' from 'After the Goldrush', to 'Human Highway' from 'Comes A Time', to 'Sedan Delivery' from 'Rust Never Sleeps', to 'Big Time' and 'Slip Away' from 'Broken Arrow'. In nearly every way Young is "a little bit here and a little bit there", as he sings on 'Scattered'. He wears as many artistic hats as he does real hats these days. In giving Neil a double-disc, Time-Warner invited Young to surely make it seem like four, offering 12 songs from 8 different venues, with textures ranging from the haunting echos of 'When Your Lonely Heart Breaks' to the relentless jackhammer that is 'Sedan Delivery'.

Yet the best number on tap here is the seemingly innocuous 'Barstool Blues' from 1975's 'Zuma' album. This song sits innocently in the setlist until Neil uses it to ambush us like a Viet Cong guerilla, pulling the trigger with ferocity on 'Old Black'. Young has never been a finesse guitarist in the mold of Eric Clapton, or even Stephen Stills (making comparisons between the two rather meaningless). Instead, Neil sculpts sound from his instrument, and he's chiselin' up a storm on 'Barstool Blues'.

The only song I could have lived without is another selection from 'Zuma', 'Dangerbird'. I don't mind the song being heavy, but it's about as deep into depression as Neil goes (which is DEEP), and it's a few fathoms below my own tolerance. But everything else works, and works well, and should be pleasing to Neil fans ranging all the way from novice to completist. In fact, since Neil and the Horse are more consumable coming from the stage than the studio, a specially priced double-disc such as this is a nice way to get a representative sampling of Young's remarkable career.

I suppose if most Young fans had their pick of songs performed on the 1996 US tour, they might want to supplant the retreads with even more diverse selections, such as 'Long May You Run', 'Bite the Bullet', or 'Don't Cry No Tears', but I'm content with leaving Neil in charge and trusting his deejaying. Over the years, he's certainly earned that trust and respect.

The Dark Horse
Another reviewer--Daniel Brugioni--pointed out quite accurately how this record seems to fit in so well with the wide open spaces of a stormy landscape. Indeed, there's something very cinematic about the feel of this live record which, more often than not, sounds like the soundtrack to a wide screen picture of a dark and stormy desert landscape stretching off as far as the eye can see. And inhabiting this bleak landscape are the lonely and disillusioned people whose dreams have all been shattered in one way or another. While the opening song, When you Dance may be optimistic in it's lyrics, the performance is more downbeat, hinting at the disillusionment to come.
Needless to say it's not a very upbeat record, and yet there's an elegant beauty in this depressing vision that belies it's darker side. Sad though it is it never wallows in bitterness, and it captures the emotions of these songs with such clarity that they come alive in rich tones of sepia and black so that you can literally feel them in all their heart-wrenching despair. It's poetry for the soul. But then that's pretty much what you come to expect with the best of Neil Young. What also makes this collection of live music so unique is the song selection. Danger Bird, Human Highway, and Barstool Blues have never sounded better, and while Pocahontis has always been one of my favorite Young songs, it's never been done as well as it is here, nor has it ever captured the emotions of the song quite so vividly. And while Mr. Soul has certainly been done in a different way before, this version is one of the best. Here it sounds like a haunted train that comes whistling out of the darkest of places before intruding into the light of day with its engineer moaning his feelings to people only half aware of him as they go about their busy lives.
While I'm not one who embraces these types of emotions as the only kind valid in art, when they are done this well I can't help but be seduced by their melancholic attraction.
Long may he run, sure, but Young and friends sound like they're in dire need of a creative refuel on this ho-hum live set. The man's clearly coasting. He knocked off the Broken Arrow studio disc without a second thought, and here the tapes roll for 83 minutes in capturing an OK performance (highlight: "Slipaway," the labyrinthine disc-two opener) that is effectively nothing more than an officially sanctioned bootleg. Let's hope he either gets inspired enough to deliver a Sleeps with Angels-style opus or finally wraps work on what should an awesome archival retrospective. --Jeff Bateman