Page 30 - the NOISE September 2013

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deVo’s Booji Boy, photo by Debbie LeavitJt,adcebkbsoienleaSvcitot.cttom
Stockwell became part of a clique of artists and musicians and freaks living in Topanga Canyon. He was always on the lookout for the bizarre and out of the ordinary. Dean had seen
“The Truth About De-Evolution” on the film festival circuit and was intrigued by DEVO. He procured one of their demo tapes and played it incessantly.
Stockwell wished he still had enough pull in the entertainment world to give DEVO a hand. Unfortunately, his little acidhead crew were pariahs in the industry and had to struggle for work. The big time execs wouldn’t know what to do with a bold and idiosyncratic act like DEVO. And when it came to appreciating anything different and modern, all of the mu- sicians Dean knew with clout had their ears closed.
All except one.
“Ohio” was Neil Young’s first hit. None of the tracks he penned for Buffalo Springfield, in- cluding classics like “Mr. Soul” and “Expecting To Fly,” came near the top forty. Neither did his initial five solo singles, not even the peerless
“Cinnamon Girl,” which only scraped up to a pa- thetic #55.
A couple weeks after Kent State, David Cros- by and Neil Young were at a friend’s house pe- rusing the latest issue of Life magazine, which was dedicated entirely to the incident. The vivid pictures of the shooting’s aftermath were shocking: the young men and women lying on the ground dead and their classmates’ dazed and horrified reactions to the senseless mas- sacre.
Young and Crosby stared at the photos. Nei- ther one spoke; there was nothing to say. After a while Neil got up, grabbed his acoustic guitar and went for a walk outside. Fifteen minutes later, he returned with “Ohio”:
Tin soldiers and Nixon’s coming We’re finally on our own
This summer I hear the drumming Four dead in Ohio
Crosby was blown away. Young called the Record Plant and found it was free the next day. He got a hold of Stills, Nash, Barbata and Samuels and told them to meet at the studio. The six men ran through “Ohio” a few times, then cut it live. Neil hadn’t yet written a second verse, so they la-la-la’d through it. David impro- vised over the fade: “Four ... I can’t believe it ...
how many more ... why?”
As the group listened to the playback, Cros-
by broke down and wept. Everyone agreed the song needed to be heard as soon as possible, so they left the la-la-las in. One verse and one chorus got the point across sufficiently.
Atlantic Records president Ahmet Ertegun arranged to have the single rush-released. It was on the radio and in stores within weeks, while the killings were still in the public’s mind.
“Ohio” peaked at #14, CSNY’s highest chart showing.
Almost immediately, Young felt guilty. He finally had a hit song, but at what cost? Was it right for him to reap fame and money from this terrible event? Or was he just reflecting the voice of the people, like an artist should? No one close to Neil doubted his intentions were sincere, but how did it look to everybody else?
“Ohio” was just the beginning of Neil Young’s ascent to superstardom. The next step was Af- ter The Gold Rush, his third solo LP, released in August 1970. The evocative title track was in- spired by a screenplay written about the apoc- alypse by Topanga crony Dean Stockwell. The film was never made, but the song and album became classics.
The peak of Neil Young’s popularity came in early 1972 with Harvest and “Heart Of Gold,” both of which hit #1. In September, Neil’s son Zeke was born. He had very little time to enjoy it all before his life took a serious downturn.
Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten was in a bad way with his heroin addiction and Neil decided to help by including him in the Stray Gators, the touring band assembled to pro- mote Harvest. But after a few weeks of rehears- als, it was obvious Whitten couldn’t hack it. On November 18, 1972, he was cut loose. Neil gave Danny some cash and his home phone and made him promise to stay in touch.
Danny went back to Los Angeles that night and, failing to score heroin, died from ingest- ing alcohol and downers. When the police found his body, there was no identification ex- cept a scrap of paper with a telephone number. So they called Neil.
Six weeks later, Young hit the road on a multi-city sold-out arena tour. Many fans were expecting an evening of breezy country-rock, but they got something quite different. Neil sucked down tequila onstage and verbally abused the audience and his band. A big chunk of the setlist was unheard material that brought everyone down.
30 • september 2013 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us