Neil Young with Crazy Horse
– Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
This is the sound of shedding skin. Neil Young, ditching the polished pop veneer of Buffalo Springfield, plugs in, snarls a little, and finds his real voice—ragged, raw, and half-broken in the best possible way. Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is not about precision or polish. It’s about letting a song wander where it wants, even if it takes a detour through dust, distortion, or doubt.
Crazy Horse, still new to the game, already knows their role: hold the groove and give Neil space to fly or crash. And crash he does—sometimes gloriously, sometimes intentionally, letting feedback bleed into melody and solos stretch out like a drunk cowboy telling the same story twice. The whole thing feels lived-in, like a bar that never closes or a friendship held together by a shared silence.
Lyrically, Young is both distant and personal, like someone writing postcards from the backseat of a long road trip they never really wanted to take. There’s longing, frustration, and a weird kind of peace with disappointment. And even though the songs are wrapped in country fuzz and folk dust, there’s a big electric heart beating underneath all of it. The kind that can break and keep going in the same breath.
Choice Tracks
Cinnamon Girl
Of course it’s on here. One note—that’s all it takes. That solo, if you can even call it that, is the musical equivalent of a smirk. It doesn’t show off. It just shows up. The lyrics are half-dream, half-confession, and the band rides the groove like it was carved into the earth.
Down by the River
Nine minutes of slow burn that never gets boring. Young turns a murder ballad into a hypnotic jam, repeating chords like they’re mantras and wringing his guitar until it sounds like it’s confessing. The solos are raw and conversational, full of pauses and punctuation, like someone trying to explain something unspeakable.
Cowgirl in the Sand
Another long ride into the wilderness. The song sprawls, not because it has to, but because it wants to. The lyrics are cryptic, maybe even nonsense, but sung like scripture. And the guitar? It howls and spirals, a little out of tune and completely perfect.
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
The title track delivers a kind of bitter shrug dressed in country harmonies. It’s a travelogue for the spiritually jet-lagged—sick of the city, unsure of the alternatives, but still moving forward.
This record doesn’t beg for attention. It just keeps playing, like a radio left on in a quiet room, telling the truth even when no one’s listening. And Neil? He’s already somewhere else, writing the next song before this one fades out.