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| (neil younger) |
I feel a deep intrigue and fascination, an energy that electrifies the core of my sensibilities. Fear is the little death. Rock is the resurrection: Neil Young.
All thought comes to a standstill in the face of this fiery and tattered execution, I become lost--or is it found--in this track.
Here I sit on the edge of a hurricane, the entire region on alert for hundreds of miles around me. We await an epic storm named Sandy. It rages to the south of us, headed our way. I'm stocked up on groceries, cooked food, a bottle of good single malt Scotch and other libations. And I watch and listen to this video over and over; it touches yearning and explodes it into vision. It corrrelates the impossible:
"I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream..."
Watching Neil Young's hair whip around in the stiff wind, hearing his guitar fire lightning bolts, zigzagging across the proscenium, drilling sonic catacombs, knocking time on it's ass.
I can't think of a better song to listen to as this hurricane heads our way, scheduled to slam us at full moon high tide tonight.
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