Waging Heavy Peace by Neil Young
Old Man Takes A Look At His Life

Neil Young’s new autobiography, Waging Heavy Peace, largely recounts the strange career of its writer, but it contains few of the brilliant peaks that make some of Young’s frustrating releases worth slogging through.
Young has had a long and interesting musical life, filled with impulsive decisions, burned-and-rebuilt bridges and broken bands. Along the way, he also happened to collect a sizable number of vintage cars and model trains and invest in some technological projects. A reader’s interest in Waging Heavy Peace will depend to a large extent on an ability to power through some tough writing … as well as an interest in cars and trains.
When Young started making a name for himself in America (he originally hails from Canada) as a member of Buffalo Springfield and CSNY, he played rock and roll pulled heavily from country and folk. Electric guitars occasionally gave the music an edge, but sugary harmonies and acoustic picking generally kept things pleasant. On the cover of Waging Heavy Peace, Neil Young sports a hat emblazoned with the words “Hippie Dream,” and the work he did with the early bands fits that description. That work commented on the events of the times with songs like “For What It’s Worth,” “Woodstock,” and “Ohio.” It showed energy, but it stayed sweet and relatively unchallenging.
When Young struck out for solo waters, he began to transform his music with a startling run of albums between 1969 and 1975. His second solo album, Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, recorded with Billy Talbot, Ralph Molina, and Danny Whitten (the band dubbed Crazy Horse), looped and smashed guitar lines together, casually destructive, but never breaking a sweat. Young stretched out his songs, as if it took too much effort to stop playing. His music conveyed an illusion of remarkable relaxation, despite immense precision and power. In Tonight’s The Night, recorded in 1973 after two close friends of Young’s had died from overdoses (one was Danny Whitten), Young sounded pissed off and depressed. He no longer bothered with the pleasantries that endeared him to fellow hippie dreamers, and he apparently recorded most of Tonight’s The Night while completely wasted on tequila. The session produced lines like these:
I’m singing this borrowed tune, I took from the rolling stone
Alone in this empty room, too wasted to write my own.
Young reveled in his blues, and created some of his most affecting music.
In the late ‘70s, Young’s music began to swing between wild highs and lows. He gave a few good albums, several really bad ones, and one that involved modulating his voice through a vocoder, an experiment that prompted his record label to sue him for “making music uncharacteristic of Neil Young.” At the start of the ‘90s, Young went on tour with Sonic Youth and got hip again. Afterward, he settled into a position of rock and roll royalty.
From this newly eminent position, Young gets to take advantage of one of the principle perks of being a successful rock ’n’ roller—writing an autobiography.
He says at one point during Waging Heavy Peace, “I am not interested in form for form’s sake.” More generally, he doesn’t appear interested in narrative clarity. When the book starts, Young writes at his ranch in the mountains near San Francisco, or in Hawaii. Then he’s a youngster in Canada, then drunk at the Tonight’s The Night recording sessions, then recording with Pearl Jam in the ‘90s, then starting with CSNY in ‘69. Young plays with time the way author David Mitchell plays with it in Cloud Atlas. Honestly, it’s difficult to figure out what has happened at any given moment.
For a man whose lyrics consistently earn praise, Young writes like a tank, powering in whatever direction he chooses with little revision (he claims that he only rewrote one paragraph in the book). He’s direct and sappy, and while direct lyrics often translate well when paired with pretty melodies—think of heartrending songs like “Helpless” or “Heart of Gold”—such lyrics don’t necessarily fly off the written page. Young tends to describe things he particularly enjoys (a certain sound, or the scenery) as “like God.” When he finds events hard to explain, he favors one-word sentences: “Life.” “All good things must pass. Why? . . . Life.” He comments frequently on his relationships and those that exist around him, at one point going so far as to list his best friends, which I guess will qualify to some as childishly endearing. He says of his current wife, “I would be an island without my ocean if we were not together in our hearts.” The Crazy Horse bassist Billy Talbot got married a few years ago, and Young approves, saying “I think that it is beautiful. . . Love.”
When not stuck in sentimental mode, Young often operates as a salesman, repeatedly returning to his two principle technological pursuits: PureTone and LincVolt.