He Needs Neil Young Like The World Needs The Pono

I can forgive Neil Young for serving up decades of stale refried hash, because I don't have to gobble it up. Every few months he frisbees the latest return-to-form pancake across the lake to the elderly groupies groveling arthritically on the other side, and the Neil Young Appreciation Society is incontinent with gratitude. "He has given us reason to live!" they sob.

And I can forgive him extending his wayward genius into endearingly half-assed High School science projects like the flashlight-battery powered Lincoln, and the fucking Pono, because they keep him out of the studio, where he does the most harm.

What I cannot forgive him is lassoing Lukas Nelson and his fine, excellent, very good band The Promise Of The Real for backup musicians when they should have been doing that greatest of all things, their own. They didn't need the gig, and they're too good for him. Here's their recorded œuvre [French for egg - Ed.]. If for some illogical reason you haven't heard this stuff, now's the chance to catch up before the new album "drops" this summer, so you can lie about always having been into the POTR, man.

Dude's a dude, dude!