Slapped in the middle of some frankly underwhelming album releases from Neil Young is Old Ways, a suggestion that he was, in fact, back to those familiar charms. He was not. Far from it, in fact, as Geffen Records continued to be a thorn in his side. What many may forget about Young is that provocation has driven the very best of his works, even the lighter tones which can be found on Harvest and On the Beach. You do not need to be loud to have a nastiness to your voice or your words, and that is what you can find on Old Ways. It’s well off the mark of what Young can do with an acoustic guitar and a stripped-back studio sound, but it’s solid enough to remember what he can do, when he has reason to do so. Hard it is to change the old ways, as Young notes on the spite-filled title track, there is enough movement, a newness, for those that want it.
Old Ways feels like a knock not just at the record company but at what preceded and followed the release of this album. Pressure to prove himself as a continuing, country-adjacent star are instead referred to as a ball and chain with lyrics that undermine the softer flow of the genre. Even with that villainy, that nastiness there from Young, he finds some sentimentality worth holding to. Move past the twang of Get Back to the Country, the tongue-in-cheek creativity there just a little too hard to take seriously, and you can find Young offering up some brilliant writing. Once an Angel is proof of his self-sabotage at the time. Just listen to the wordplay, the heartfelt tone he takes here is something that would be embellished two decades later, but here it’s raw and a sign of what Young wanted to do, but did not to spite those label executive. Old Ways did not fit the mould of what Geffen wanted, and yet it’s the best album he made for them.
A Willie Nelson feature is a shock, but a welcome one. His vocals are immediately recognisable on Are There Any More Real Cowboys?, and the sentiment he and Young find on this track is wonderful. It sounds a tad silly, the cattle grazing hopes of a new generation, but it does reflect the changing times of the 1980s, a time when Young and his contemporaries were struggling to adapt to pop music and chart demands. Straight-shooting country sounds suit Young, and that’s what Old Ways offers, irrespective of its intent and changed style. Young would use string sections far more sincerely in the years to come than he does on Misfits, an odd song of sneezing and heightened emotions. It’s the violins which bring this about, not the story itself which feels out of place on the countrified charms of Old Ways.
Countrified charms are what Young has a knack for, and he hardly needed Old Ways to prove that. It’d be surplus to requirement had it not been for the very likeable tone across the album. My Boy has a charm to it that requires a desire to learn more about Young and his personal life. Those who want that are well-catered to with this album, though it’s a little light on the real depths which similarly styled albums from Young would have. That’s not to say My Boy is below par, it’s one of the best from the album and it’s thanks to the instrumental pieces. Subtle violin additions, a brilliant bit of guitar work. Those little pieces are what matter most of all. Songs of the drifter, made by a man whose drift had begun to affect his career and his interests. Old Ways holds it all together, but you can hear the hurt Young is feeling throughout the 1980s.
