"The
magnificent return of an icon - CSN&Y revisit their rich but rocky history in
astonishingly strong epic performance"
By BEN WENER
February 14, 2000
The Orange County Register Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Where: Staples Center, Los
Angeles When: Saturday night Next: The group plays Tuesday at the Arrowhead Pond of
Anaheim. Tickets, $30.50-$201, are on sale.
It just shouldn't haven't been this good.
Collectively these guys have never been this commanding before, and nothing —
least of all their feeble comeback album last year — hinted they ever could
be. Yet
the much-hyped reunion tour from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, easily the first big
concert event of 2000, is proving to be one of the most memorable outings in recent
years.
Traversing their rocky but often rich history with renewed zest and an atypical
optimism — what else to think when they open with "Carry On" and close with
"Long May You Run"? — the famously quarrelsome Rock and Roll Hall of Famers
set aside petty differences to cast a stardusted, golden glow on more than three decades
of quintessential music in their downright astonishing performance Saturday night at
Staples Center in Los Angeles. (The group plays Tuesday at the Arrowhead Pond of
Anaheim.)
Brimming with smartly rearranged classics and deft detours into nine complementary (and
rightly expanded) versions of the band's material from its album "Looking
Forward," the three-hour show was every bit as nostalgically wonderful as last year's
blasts from Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. And that's precisely the surprise:
From The Boss and crew, we expect consistent greatness, even after so much time away; from
CSN&Y, we expect maybe a highlight or two, especially after so much time away.
But Saturday night it was just the opposite. Of 30 songs, only two were duds, both of
them Stills compositions that play against his strengths (meaning neither is gritty
enough). The bulk, however, was magnificent, no matter which legend was the focus, and
each got his fair share of limelight: Stills was remarkable on a dynamic "49
Bye-Byes," Nash turned in a fragile and gorgeous "Our House," Crosby roared
like a young lion on "Almost Cut My Hair" and Young, well, hey, Neil's the whole
reason this thing is working so well at all.
Not to discount the enduring talents of CSN, but it's Young's restless spirit that has
brought out the best in this bunch. Far from content to allow his old pals to saunter
through the same well-choreographed routine they've followed for the past two decades, the
ragged master seems to egg them on, mocking their cobwebbed shtick and presenting tough
challenges for each — namely, to make those songs we all hear way too often on radio
kick like new and inspire again.
To their credit, the rest of CSN&Y more than rose to the challenge, ably abetted by
veteran session drummer Jim Keltner and Booker T. & the MG's bassist Donald
"Duck" Dunn. You say you don't want to hear "Marrakesh Express" as a
silly ditty anymore? Well, how 'bout we make it a hobo's tale of life on the rails?
"Woodstock" starting to mold? No problem: Here's a little Crazy Horse thunder to
zap it back to life.
They even pulled off this trick with new songs. The questioning "Dream for
Him," for instance, stopped sounding like new age pulp and began to develop into the
translucent beauty it surely can be.
Its haunting atmosphere made for a terrific companion to the ghostly chill of
"Guinnevere," delicately delivered by Crosby and Nash in whispered, sweetly
grizzled tones.
But the retooling didn't stop with the CSN&Y catalog. Two from Stills
(including
the Buffalo Springfield favorite "For What It's Worth") were
re-charged, then
loosened up considerably. And, as always, Young's vast catalog of songs was ripe for
revival — sure, he may play "Southern Man" and "Cinnamon Girl" on
every tour, but they haven't sounded this vocally robust since the day he laid them down
in the studio.
The highlights from Young, who was in such rare form he was even chatty with the
capacity crowd, were plentiful: a heartbreaking pipe-organ rendition of "After the
Gold Rush," wizened and tender versions of "Old Man" and
"Slowpoke," a torrential run through the epic "Down By the River,"
with Stills countering Young's jagged, hyperkinetic leads with equally soaring but
smoother licks.
What's gotten into them? Age, apparently. The tensions of long ago, typically brought
on by immaturity, seem to have vanished, replaced by evident friendship and genuine
affection. Consider this example. Nash: "Here's one Crosby wrote." Young:
"But we're gonna play it anyway." That would have caused a tantrum 25 years ago.
Now it brings an embrace when the song is over and high-fives later in the set.
Can they still sing? Well, yes and no. No, they can't harmonize as purely as they could
in '69, though at times they were close. But now they have a distinctive and enjoyable
sound that befits their balding, graying nature: Stills is husky, Nash is raspy, Crosby is
soothing, Young is Young. Strangely, the echoing of an arena suits them; it tends to cover
up the flubs.
Of course, none of it had anything to do with where rock is at or
headed, something
even Young recognized; why else choose such obvious hits? Daring isn't the point with
CSN&Y anymore. For a long time, actually, it seemed there was no point to CSN&Y.
But if this tour accomplishes anything — and it does on more than a few fronts —
it proves that notion dead wrong.
