Review: Heart of Gold: The Songs of Neil Young, Volume 1

If you have an abiding interest in Neil Young, or regularly check in on this site, you have heard it by now: the new Neil Young tribute album is out. Heart of Gold: The Songs of Neil Young, Volume 1 has got some big names on board, and a confident, semi-official vibe about it (thanks in part to the subtitle, A Benefit for the Bridge School). Volume 2 is officially unannounced but said to be forthcoming from Killphonic Records.

We’ve been spreading the news of the project in recent months by looking at each of the singles released ahead of the album. But enough teasing: the record is here, and it’s time to opine.

Let’s jump right to the point: Volume 1 is a solid collection to kick off the series. Long may it run.

Is there room for improvement in Volume 2? Of course, and we’ve got some suggestions.

But back to the subtitle for a second. The Bridge School is a nonprofit founded in 1986 by Pegi Young (Neil Young’s then-wife) with strong support from Neil. It’s dedicated to educating children with severe speech and physical impairments. To help fund the school, Neil set up the annual Bridge School Benefit Concerts, which ran from 1986 to 2016, and featured A-list stars like Bruce Springsteen, Pearl Jam, and Paul McCartney. The concert series is no more, but this new covers series may partly fill the musical gap, if not the funding gap. This project could last a while for the simple reason that it has a big heart and a broader mission in mind.

Heart of Gold gets a lot right. For every star–Eddie Vedder, Brandi Carlile, Mumford & Sons and more–there’s a relative unknown: a Charlie Greene, a Chris Pierce, an Anders Osborne. Well-established and much-admired indie artists round out the roster–Courtney Barnett and Sharon Van Etten, to name just two. The album spans the age gamut as well, with artists in the later phases of their careers alongside performers still gaining momentum.

Maybe the biggest plus is that this volume doesn’t focus on The Solid Gold Greatest Hits. “Heart of Gold” and “Old Man” are present and accounted for, but subsequent volumes in the series will still have plenty of classic Neil gems to draw from. Young’s most devoted listeners will appreciate the deeper cuts; I’m no expert on Young’s catalog but I’d put “Here We Are In The Years” and “Such a Woman” in that category.

Brandi Carlile on “Philadelphia” starts off the album. It takes me to a Joni Mitchell sphere rather than the Neil field, but I confess to being ignorant of the original. In fact I don’t know that I care to hear the original; Carlile’s version is satisfying enough. As a queer artist she brings an intimacy to the song, and a gentle urgency. I like that it’s piano-led. Was it a good call to open the album with something so somber? It works for me, and puts listeners on alert that this is not a routine compilation, but a thoughtful one from the heart.

The next two tracks don’t register strongly, but their sonic lushness keeps them engaging. Fiona Apple on the title track and Mumford and Sons on “Harvest” deliver solid remakes; there’s certainly nothing weak about them, but nothing too memorable about them either. I suspect they’ll grow on me over time.

Eddie Vedder is equal to the emotional heft of “The Needle and the Damage Done.” Layne Staley, Kurt Cobain, and other Pearl Jam peers come to mind as Vedder moves through the song. A sobering track, but the song is one of Young’s most personal statements and I can’t think of a better man to cover it.

On to the first single from the project, “Lotta Love,” as reinvigorated by Courtney Barnett. Many will know the Nicolette Larson cover rather than the original from Comes a Time. I quibble with the fade-out ending, but the overall arrangement is strong, as is the singer. It’s sheer pleasure when a tribute fetches up a song that somehow fell out of the rotation. It’s like putting on an old jacket and finding $20 in the pocket. Nice.

Reggae is up next (you may have felt it coming when you saw the Marley name on the sleeve or the playlist). Stephen Marley on “Old Man” may have had his own old man in mind. (Although, wait, Bob Marley died at age 34, making Stephen the older one by far… well, now I’m all confused, so never mind). The translation to reggae feels effortless–a happy union of Canadian and Caribbean sensibilities. Once that novelty fades, though, the song may grow old pretty quickly. For now I feel its bright tempo and bounce improves the album, which is not an especially lively affair.

I was not familiar with “Here We Are in the Years,” Sharon Van Etten’s contribution, or with Van Etten herself, I’m afraid. I’m not persuaded I have been missing anything, either. Not saying it’s bad–it just doesn’t click for this listener. Not the song, not the singer. At least not yet.

Songs by The Lumineers I can take or leave, but their “Sugar Mountain” is pretty sweet. Does it depart from the original in a marked way? Nah, but neither is it karaoke; it’s got its own groove that catches the ear, and the stately piano offers another point of interest. There’s something austere about this cut that keeps me coming back.

On “Comes a Time,” we find that age has taken the edge off Michael McDonald’s voice–and it’s more appealing than ever. Combined with Allison Russell’s beautiful youthful voice, the end result is superb. The younger/older vocal blend is especially moving on a song about time passing. Tasty instrumental backing by the Doobie Brothers help make this a winner.

Steve Earle picks a great one with “Long May You Run.” The snarling lead guitar and pedal steel compete too much with Earle’s vocal. The younger and more ornery Steve Earle would have won that battle, but his voice is softer now and the sound mix isn’t helping. I want a do-over. Keep the harmonica, though–a Neil Young tribute needs a good dose of that folk harp sound.

“Mr. Soul” has never been to my liking, and after hearing Rodney Crowell take it on I still don’t like it. The gifted artist and interpreter does himself a disservice by selecting “Mr. Soul” as opposed to a song in the country vein. It seems to me the song is a piece for a young person, but Rodney is almost as old as Neil. Swing and a miss.

Everyone I know who has spent time in New Orleans has come back raving about Anders Osborne, and with his cover of “Cowgirl in the Sand” I begin to see why. Great voice, fine musicianship. Osborne starts in solo acoustic mode, but then goes electric without warning. From there he adds even more embellishments to the arrangement. This is the kind of surprise I wanted more of on the album as a whole. This song ended too soon.

When Charlie Greene sings “Such a Woman” I hear more Jackson Browne than Neil Young–but it’s not a song I’d heard before. Greene’s performance is polished but not too polished, tender but not precious. A trace of harmonica adds to the charm; the piano filigree and the way the notes hang in the air work for me. A nifty arrangement nicely executed.

Heart of Gold closes with Chris Pierce’s “Southern Man.” There is a reason for that: Pierce mesmerizes and then slays in a way that no one could follow. Not being familiar with Pierce, I came in expecting a kick-ass guitar solo or two. That didn’t happen. I stayed for the drama of it, the mystery of where Pierce was taking this beautiful and passionate thing. No wonder Neil took Chris Pierce on as the special guest opener on his 2023 tour dates.

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My my, hey hey, everyone’s got opinions, eh?

It’s our opinion that Heart of Gold Volume 2 could improve on Heart of Gold Volume 1 in these easy ways:

• Diversify. Go harder into different genres. Volume 1 doesn’t depart its own singer/songwriter comfort zone often enough.
• Take more risks. Find weirder artists or edgier interpretations. This is Neil Young we are celebrating; don’t be afraid to head for the ditch!
• Let people get their jam on. The longest song here lasts only five minutes. Can we get some Crazy Horse energy in the next volume? We need a five-minute guitar solo. If you have to drop an artist or two to make room, so be it. (On this last point, see the next point.)
• Think Dinner Party. If you have the Mumfords coming, don’t invite the Lumineers, or vice versa. One or the other is fine, but not both.
• More pairings and duets. The Michael McDonald / Allison Russell contribution is a highlight of Volume 1; let it be the model for future installments of the series.
• Better sequencing. Placing three songs in a row from the same album is a pitfall easily avoided, even if the album is Harvest. Putting the lesser-known artists at the end is another questionable move. (I know, I should just press Shuffle and stop my sobbing.)
• Acknowledge recent work. Later-period Neil may not be the best-selling Neil, but “Philadelphia” seems an unreasonable cut-off when there’s more than thirty years’ worth of song that followed it. As a bare minimum, how about “Razor Love” (2000) for Volume 2?

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