by Arun Starkey, faroutmagazine.co.uk

★★★★★

Despite the emotional morass that Neil Young and Crazy Horse found themselves in during the recording process, 1975’s Zuma is an undisputed triumph. The album is one of the finest bodies of work in the Canadian musician’s extensive back catalogue. 36 minutes of total musical verve, there’s no identifiable downside, with the emotional sentiment palpable. Zuma leaves a more profound mark on the listener.

Young has never been the most optimistic songwriter. So be warned, his penchant for melancholy is taken to new heights here. It’s not contrived, though, and is influenced by tragedies that even the most relentless psychopath would find hard to ignore. Accordingly, Zuma is brimming with passionate vocal performances, wailing guitars and stark lyrics that bring Young’s present juncture into full focus.

It’s not a mopey record, either. A sludgy spirit and remarkable grit counterbalance the sadness. In view of this, you might even describe Zuma as the ultimate Neil Young record, no matter how many feathers are ruffled in doing so. There’s total harmony at play.

Neil Young was despondent when recording Zuma between the summers of 1974 and 1975. Firstly, close friend and Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten died after an overdose in 1972. Naturally, this cataclysm caused a shockwave throughout Young’s inner circle. It was such a blow that Whitten’s death resulted in the hiatus of Crazy Horse. Following this was Young’s split from Carrie Snodgress. He discovered that the mother of his child, Zeke, whom he was madly in love with, had been unfaithful, and this compounded the Whitten tragedy and offers a devastating look into the mind of Neil Young during this period.

The story of Young’s recent chapter is well-known amongst his diehards. After Whitten’s passing, he entered a bleak period and released the aptly named ‘Ditch Trilogy’. The collection comprises three of his best to date: 1973’s Time Fades Away, 1974’s On the Beach, and 1975’s Tonight’s the Night. In 1975, when that chapter ended, Young sensed it was the right moment for Crazy Horse to re-emerge from the depths. Frank ‘Poncho’ Sampedro was drafted to replace Whitten, adding a welcome dimension to the band. The stage was set for the magic of Zuma.

Sampedro helps Young greatly on this album. His influence on Zuma sees the Canadian refine his hard-rock sound, transitioning from the loose, stream-of-conscious approach that Whitten facilitated. Whilst the guitars of 1969’s Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere are emphatic, Young takes it up a notch on Zuma, and his playing on the record is of a better quality than all its predecessors.

The album starts perfectly, setting the scene with ‘Don’t Cry No Tears’, a song that is an unashamedly depressive piece vocalising Young’s feelings after the Snodgress schism. A portion of his lyrics read: “Well, I wonder, who’s with her tonight? / And I wonder, who’s holding her tight?”. This is the kind of full-frontal solemnity coursing through Zuma.

From one masterclass to another, track two, ‘Danger Bird’, keeps the quality of proceedings elevated. the song is arguably one of Neil Young’s best compositions. Written in a minor key and extensive in duration, it emotively analyses the break up of Young and Snodgress, making for a fitting second piece. The music is atmospheric and brooding, as it is at many points over the record, but they reach their zenith here. The following line is an absolute killer for anyone that’s ever suffered infidelity: “Cause you’ve been with another man / There you are and here I am”. The pain is real.

The highlight, however, is ‘Cortez the Killer’. The sister track to ‘Danger Bird’, the pair remain similar in tonality and substance. Boasting one of Young’s greatest solos and guitar-playing performances, the song harks back to the style of Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere tracks such as ‘Down by the River’, with the piercing guitar front and centre, leading the charge. However, during these moments, Zuma is not a countercultural act of defiance but rather a means for the musician to exorcise himself of depression and regret. The way in which Young marries the music with an allegory of lost love set in the Spanish conquest of the Americas is also one of his greatest triumphs — it’s pure poetry.

‘Drive Back’ is another moment of note. Grooving and menacing, Young and Sampedro’s stylistic licks colour it and envelop each other, creating ample intrigue. Take those pinched harmonics as well; I don’t think anyone can doubt his position as a guitar hero after hearing this record. Elsewhere, ‘Looking for a Love’ and ‘Barstool Blues’ are both excellent additions to a masterful project.

The album then closes with ‘Through My Sails’. A slow acoustic piece, and something of a goodbye to the recent past, Young introspectively provides lines such as “total confusion / disillusion / new things I’m knowin'” with the band’s chorus – featuring Stephen Stills – and the slow echo of the congas compelling us to brood like he. The sadness is immense here, and it’s impossible to ignore; a fitting way to conclude.

Zuma is a real ride. Emotions and skill combine and propel it as Young masterfully explores hate, love and everything in between.