The biggest problem with Neil Young's recent spate
of archival live releases is that he's already put out so many anthologies and
concert recordings that the new issues risk redundancy simply by existing.
Sure, "It's all one song," as the man himself once put it (on 1997's Year Of
The Horse—a
live album, of course), but hearing every version is a fanatic's game.
Sugar Mountain: Live At Canterbury House 1968 in some ways typifies
this. The performances, captured over two November nights at the University Of
Michigan, are intimate, clear (the two-track recording is very good), and
obviously felt. It's got historical value, too, as Young's first solo
performances following his departure from Buffalo Springfield. "I never plan
anything ahead, in case anybody hasn't noticed," he says while introducing his
early song "Sugar Mountain." For those who adore Young for his spontaneity, the
winding, often wry between-song monologues have documentary value.
Much of the time, though, those "raps"
meander—a good fifth of Sugar Mountain's 70-minute run time is
devoted to them, and their replay value is limited. Which is too bad—the
performances are excellent. Young sounds so, well, youthful: appealingly gawky,
exuberant, but also a little bashful, emotionally naked while still in command.
(His delivery gives new clarity to the cryptic opening lines of "Nowadays
Clancy Can't Even Sing": "Hey, who's that stomping all over my face? Where's
that silhouette I tried to trace?") But Young the songwriter was only just
getting started, so while Sugar Mountain is pretty sweet, the highest peaks were yet
to come.