The Harmonious Hitchhiker :: 80 Years of Neil Young
Photo: Henry Diltz
Photo: Henry Diltz
Iconically isolated in its dystopian dormancy for over four decades, Young’s 1976 “Hitchhiker” fits perfectly still between the unparalleled “Zuma” and “American Stars ‘N Bars” like some poetic puzzle piece that, when connected, unleashes a brilliant universe of American atmosphere and liberating lonerism like nothing else before it. As Young circles the sonic sun this week for his 80th birthday, what better way to celebrate than going off the beaten path with an adventurous archival release that many may not know, but everyone should before the week is up. Reflecting on the revolutionary retrospect of one of the greatest songwriters of our time, there has always been a strong, sophisticated discipline to speak a language loudly and crystal clear about the dysfunctional politics in America throughout Young’s culturally captivating career. While most subjects and elements are hellbent on common sense towards your neighbors, there is no doubt that if you’re not hearing what you're feeling being said, you have to step up for yourself and say it. Something Young has done time and time again, over the last half century, without hesitation or bias in his brave bones, “Hitchhiker” is a wonderful place to peacefully ponder the electrifying ethos of the veteran songwriter in all its salty, sun-drenched glory. Recorded just a month after the country’s 200th birthday in early August 1976 at Indigo Ranch Recording Studio in Malibu, California, which had only been around for a couple of years at that point, the album was premeditatedly performed on full moons between 1975 and 1977 and carefully captured in just one night in all its metaphysical magic.
“He’d turn to me and go, ‘Guess I’ll turn on the tap’—and then out came ‘Powderfinger,’ ‘Pocahontas,’ ‘Out of the Blue,’ ‘Ride My Llama.’ Two days, a day. I’m not talkin’ about sittin’ down with a pen and paper, I’m talkin’ about pickin’ up a guitar, sittin’ there and lookin’ me in the face and in twenty minutes—‘Pocahontas.’”
Photo: Gary Burden
“It was a complete piece, although I was pretty stony on it, and you can hear it in my performances... I laid down all the songs in a row, pausing only for weed, beer, or coke. Briggs was in the control room, mixing live on his favorite console.”
Completely separate from the piercingly poetic production of his previous works, like “After the Gold Rush,” “Harvest,” “On the Beach,” and “Zuma,” the album distinctly displays a vibrant voice exposed to the epic elements of just what makes a Young record so truthful and mysteriously melodic. “Hitchhiker” is a rare glimpse into the raw realms of the songwriter’s masterful mind during his most successful decade to date. Saturated in various substances and spiritual softness, there’s simply no telling what would have happened if the album had been released by the seemingly disenchanted folks over at Reprise upon hearing the stripped-down demos. Remaining in the sacred dirt of the cosmic canyons until its official release in the fall of 2017, “Hitchhiker” could have only happened with the help and guidance of Young’s longtime friend and producer, the late David Briggs, who actually met Young while he was hitchhiking during the self-titled days back in 1968. The two wasted no time bottling the liberating lightning found within the album’s feverish fibers with tracks like the beloved “Powderfinger,” “Captain Kennedy,” and “Human Highway,” all spiraling towards an endless sunrise that hangs high above the ancient ocean in all its salty simplicity. With most of the material finding its way on 1979’s “Rust Never Sleeps,” these subtle songs eventually became anthems and full band power moves for decades to come. But their harmoniously humble beginnings still linger in the legends told by the sun, moon, and stars that willingly witnessed the creative conception of these brilliant ballads.
