Homegrown

Mostly, though, the Young we get here resembles the Young we already know: the one who we first met on his rootsy-yet-metaphysical 1972 breakout album, Harvest, then again later on Comes a Time, in 1978. ... When all is said and done, we’re left wanting more.

Separate Ways and Try are wounded but tender breakup songs, Kansas a gentle reflection on a one-night stand. An unremarkable band blues and an unlistenable finger-on-wineglass affair contribute little to an album that’s well-found but, like much of Young’s recent output, for the committed.

“Homegrown” is an essential addition to the Young catalog and the best of his many archival releases since the equally essential “Live at the Fillmore East” (which was recorded in 1970 and finally released 36 years later).

Five of the 12 songs have been previously released in various versions over the years. Collected together with seven previously unheard songs, the effect is to compound the sadness at their core. There a couple of pleasantly throwaway druggy jams to lighten the mood, including the title song and the amusing We Don’t Smoke It. ... I have little doubt it would have been acclaimed in 1975, but it rings just as sweet and true in 2020. Heartbreak never gets old.

Homegrown establishes itself as its own rightful—perhaps even required—chapter in that legacy, yet another bold statement from one of the musical giants of the last half-century.

Homegrown was strong enough to have been released in 1975 and Young is right to exhume it now. But that doesn’t mean he was necessarily wrong then. He may have been baring his soul, but he was smart enough to know just how rotten that soul had fleetingly become.

In retrospect, Young’s decision may have been for the best, but like everything he’s done, Homegrown still has much to offer. In retrospect, and with all things considered, it’s not a bad blend.

Hearing these (sometimes very familiar) songs in this particular sequence is a journey, one that winds along a twisted road yet provides an experience as complete as its mid-'70s companion LPs. It's not a footnote but an essential part of Neil Young's catalog.

The duration of the record is ultimately out of proportion to its considerable depth of feeling. These dozen tracks all boast impeccable audio, but the clarity of those sonics, the likes of which earmark all recent Neil Young recordings in recent years, is less significant as a commercial selling point than as a direct correlation to the purity of emotion within the music.

Homegrown is his most personal. Intended for release in 1975, Homegrown retains Harvest’s country-rock sound, but has more of an intimate feel.

‘Homegrown’ not only lives up to the hype of being a lost classic, it surpasses it.

“Separate Ways” is a sweet beginning, reminiscent of “Out On The Weekend” with a slightly more bitter détour, which immediately reminds us that Homegrown should have followed Harvest. Emmylou Harris’ haunting voice in the background of “Try” sounds simultaneously evocative and familiar — a trait resulting from her frequent collaborations with the likes of Linda Ronstadt, Gram Parsons, and Bob Dylan.

While a handful of tracks (around the belly) don’t live up to their legend, hearing Homegrown after all these years rates as a fine gift for Young to leave to his legions of fans … and, hell, humanity.

It’s not all perfect: the previously-released title track clocks in as a fairly innocuous hoe-down, while the slightly uncomfortable spoken word midpoint of ‘Florida’ makes for a jarring addition. Still, when ‘Homegrown’ soars, it acts as further proof that few in history can reach the emotional peaks that Neil Young can.

Seven have never been released before, including heartfelt opener ‘Separate Ways’. Over Levon Helm’s solid but minimal drum line comes a chorus up there with Young’s best, as melodic as it is thoughtful, as pensive as it is powerful. ... The freewheeling ‘Vacancy’ is the last ‘new’ song here, an instant classic (if you can call 46 years trapped in the vaults ‘instant’).

There’s a temptation with Young to concentrate on the big statement songs, but the joy of Homegrown is its lightness of touch.

Through songs now considered longtime favourites, and ones that will now find wider audiences, Homegrown is now free to stand as a more organic, lovelorn harvest of the personal turmoil that influenced Young's revered mid-'70s output.

The lack of ripe new fruit is probably what makes Homegrown a slight disappointment, but judged by most standards, it’s still a very solid collection that vividly reflects a turbulent chapter in Neil Young’s long and eventful career.

This is an album that proves something beautiful and enduring can come from even the most dire circumstances.