Neil Young – Coastal Review

With a Daryl Hannah documentary alongside it, Neil Young’s soundtrack release, Coastal, feels like the icing on the cake. Where Coastal, the fly-on-the-wall film of behind-the-scenes preparations and road trip enthusiasm is a nicely styled piece, the soundtrack is of an obvious quality. Young returns to the stage for the first time in four years, anxious to play for an in-person crowd, nervous too. The latter is captured with earnestness, an unflinching and humanising experience that Coastal gets right. Young is human. That much should be obvious of all artists, let alone those who will be headlining Glastonbury Festival later this year. Young is a man with shortcomings and triumphs to his name, and he spills it all on stage, as any great musician does. Coastal is a collection of wonderful performances. A generic AI cover, shameful as it is, hides some quality live performances from Young.  

Young is a tremendous live draw. Those who have listened in to the likes of Somewhere Under the Rainbow and Rust Never Sleeps will know this. Both are from his heyday, the days when these songs were contemporary. But Coastal takes a nervous-sounding Young to stages across the coast of the United States. He sounds tremendous in solo form. Like Bob Dylan, his mastering of acoustic guitar, harmonica, and vocal work is staggering. That much is on display frequently on this live album. Opener I’m the Ocean feels like an appropriate opener, given the reliance on those shored-up days. Fondness for the words, for the audience, is what makes these performances so wonderful. Coastal can be proud of the live performances featured, particularly Comes a Time, a beautiful song which, as all great live performances do, rests on the knife’s edge. A slip-up or shout-out from the crowd would ruin it.  

Counter that with Love Earth, a song dependent on audience interaction. Young is keen to play with empty space, the moments of quiet which can be filled by attendees shouting back the title of the song. A sweet moment for a strong performance. Throw Your Hatred Down manages to capture the point of Coastal. This is a reconnection with audiences, with the world, after a long break from the road. This was in part a choice from Young not to tour, but also a limitation of the Covid pandemic. Both paired and made touring unlikely, if not impossible, for artists. These are moments of real rarity from Young. He digs deep into his back catalogue and offers performances we know he is capable of. So long on the road, plenty of time in the studio, and he can still deliver rarities like Vampire Blues and Prime of Life to a wonderful standard.  

Such is the point of capturing his live works, as Daryl Hannah did in the Coastal documentary. Young knows there is a scarcity to some of his tracks, and bringing back those efforts only adds to the excitement. For those who enjoy Young, Coastal will serve as a delightful live offering. Another for the pile of ever-growing, quality material. When I Hold You is essential. Young uses silence as an instrument as he pushes the older generation out of the way, moves them on to focus on the problems of here and now. His piano playing is surprising, too, tremendously delicate and going against the perception of guitarists being unable to bring a softer touch. Young has that much-needed softer touch, that patience for developing a song and the comfortable, quiet atmosphere is Coastal’s finest offering.