January 6, 7, 9 & 10. Picked up $50- balcony seats for the 1st & 3rd shows.
(Last time I was there, I sat in the front row for the Dixie Dregs opening for the guitar trio of J Mclaughlin-P De Lucia-Al Di Meola.)
Loves me some Neil, and at Carnegie Hall, sure I'ma gonna gets me some good times!
Limited # of seats left folks.
"Henry Cow always wanted to push itself, so sometimes we would write music that we couldn't actually play – I found that very encouraging." - Lindsay Cooper, 1998
"I have nothing to do with Endless River. Phew! This is not rocket science people, get a grip." - Roger Waters, 2014
"I'm a collector. And I've always just seemed to collect personalities." - David Bowie, 1973
Why the F didn't I know about this?Originally Posted by Obscured
*BUMP*
Tomorrow night. Stoked. All acoustic solo Neil. Effing Carnegie Hall. Anyone else going?
"Henry Cow always wanted to push itself, so sometimes we would write music that we couldn't actually play – I found that very encouraging." - Lindsay Cooper, 1998
"I have nothing to do with Endless River. Phew! This is not rocket science people, get a grip." - Roger Waters, 2014
"I'm a collector. And I've always just seemed to collect personalities." - David Bowie, 1973
Have fun, I'm sure it'll be excellent.
Great show, Neil sounded wonderful. Even from my sky-high vantage point in the upper (upper-upper) balcony. Wow, did not realize how far away from the stage one can be in that room. And there is zero legroom. Zero. Whatever, Neil was great.
Setlist here - http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/neil-y...-5bc5b38c.html
"Henry Cow always wanted to push itself, so sometimes we would write music that we couldn't actually play – I found that very encouraging." - Lindsay Cooper, 1998
"I have nothing to do with Endless River. Phew! This is not rocket science people, get a grip." - Roger Waters, 2014
"I'm a collector. And I've always just seemed to collect personalities." - David Bowie, 1973
He played a bunch of old songs including ones from the Harvest album. He also talked alot between songs including remembering when he played Carnegie Hall in 1970.
Bob
Interesting review in today's NY Times of the show you were at, Obscured:
http://nyti.ms/1dOy7SD
Familiar Yet Distant, With Songs and an Edge
By NATE CHINEN, JAN. 7, 2014
Neil Young was just a few bars into an indignant old song at Carnegie Hall on Monday night, chugging a terse intro on an acoustic guitar, when he abruptly threw the emergency brake.
“Wrong!” he barked, waving one hand, as if to cut off a rehearsal band. Part of the audience had started clapping to the beat — but not quite on the beat, as Mr. Young complained. His tone was even, his exasperation clear.
“It’s something that you probably don’t know,” he said, peering into the house from the stage, “but there’s a hell of a distance between you and me.”
At face value, that was an acoustical observation, a remark about natural reverb from somebody who has made a lifelong study of it. But it was also an assertion of order, and, on some level, a formal rebuke. Roughly halfway through his first of four solo concerts in the same exalted room this week — the others were scheduled for Tuesday, Thursday and Friday — Mr. Young seemed rattled by the precarious balance of worship and familiarity exhibited by a capacity crowd. His guarded attitude, marshaled at least partly in response, was one of the concert’s defining traits, an obstinate hurdle and spur.
Mr. Young is 68 and has been playing highly visible solo shows, off and on, since his mid-20s. He recently released an album from his archives, “Live at the Cellar Door” (Reprise), that reaffirms just how compelling he has always been in that format. It was recorded late in 1970, days before he made his solo debut at Carnegie Hall.
This time around, the impression created onstage was tent show troubadour: Mr. Young, in a brimmed hat and a baggy coat, moved deliberately among a trove of instruments, including two battered pianos, a hulking organ, a banjo and more than half a dozen acoustic guitars. Some of his warmest banter had to do with the provenance of those guitars, including a Martin D-28 that famously once belonged to Hank Williams, and was here pressed into service on a touchingly delicate reading of “Harvest Moon.”
At times, there was a rustling quiet while Mr. Young fiddled with his harmonicas; these moments were often punctuated by exhortations or song requests. (“You guys finished?” Mr. Young groused at one point, shooting a look toward the balcony. “No, you paid real good money to get in here, so you should be able to listen to each other.”)
But whatever tensions gathered around the stage, they served a function, notably when Mr. Young was unpacking songs with a social or political bent. The tune that got derailed by the offbeat clapping, and then successfully restarted, was “Ohio,” which he wrote in response to the 1970 Kent State shootings, and recorded as a member of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. It led into a grave, potent version of “Southern Man,” with Mr. Young tightening his voice into a blade as he spit the lyrics “I heard screamin’/And bullwhips cracking.”
Twice in the concert he paused to pay tribute to a fellow songwriter, beginning with Phil Ochs, whose final album, “Gunfight at Carnegie Hall,” was recorded in 1970. Covering the contemplative Ochs song “Changes,” Mr. Young sang in a muted lower midrange, and with a murmuring cadence. The other subject of his homage was Bert Jansch, whose haunting elegy “The Needle of Death” he recalled hearing as a young man; here it made for a chilling companion piece to his own “The Needle and the Damage Done.”
That’s a song about the toll of heroin, but also simply a cry of lost connection. Mr. Young sang a few others along those lines, including “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” and the Buffalo Springfield songs “On the Way Home” and “Flying on the Ground Is Wrong,” both with some variation on the refrain “And I miss you.” With songs like these in his back pocket, it may be only natural that Mr. Young still elicits an earnest call for engagement from his audience.
But his art isn’t really about caginess — he’s not Bob Dylan — so much as a knotty, grudging form of constancy. Those built-in distancing strategies are simply part of the equation, as many of his fans, even some of the pushier ones, intuitively understand. So it happened that in a show fairly chock-full of catalog staples, Mr. Young approached the finish line with a wisecrack: “Pretty soon I’m going to play my hit.”
Then he offered up “After the Gold Rush” and “Heart of Gold” in succession, nailing both, and graciously accepted the cheering ovation that was sure to follow.
Here's that bit & tune from my vantage point in the heavens-
Also, Rolling Stone's very positive review: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/ne...-show-20140107
Tickets on stubhub skyrocketed, after this review; the few that now remain went from the 2-3 hundred range into the $900 - 3500+ stratosphere.
"Henry Cow always wanted to push itself, so sometimes we would write music that we couldn't actually play – I found that very encouraging." - Lindsay Cooper, 1998
"I have nothing to do with Endless River. Phew! This is not rocket science people, get a grip." - Roger Waters, 2014
"I'm a collector. And I've always just seemed to collect personalities." - David Bowie, 1973
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