Prairie Wind (released 9/27/05) is arguably a more convincing sequel to 1972’s Harvest than its ostensible follow-up of ’92, Harvest Moon. Comprised of an acoustic-based sound reminiscent of both those commercially successful albums, the 28th studio album by the Canadian rock icon might otherwise come off as a slight exercise in style if its songs did not depict Young pondering his own mortality in the most direct ways.
In hindsight, it is also very clear that all three of the aforementioned records share more than just the obvious stylistic similarities to the comparably lush Comes A Time. That 1978 record not only resides in much the same production/arrangement mode, but, perhaps not coincidentally, the original material finds Young casting a discerning look at how relationships are subject to the passage of time.
Indeed, on the 2005 LP, the soft brushstrokes and acoustic guitar strums of “The Painter” speak to a patient resolve and faith in the future, echoed in the gentle tenor of Neil Young’s vocal, even when he sings the portentous line, “It’s a long road behind me.” ‘”Falling Off the Face of the Earth” carries many of the same recognitions of mortality, as does “Far From Home.”
The two cuts’ juxtaposition in this sequence of eleven reinforces that somber notion, despite the buoyant air on the latter arising from cheery dobro, jaunty harmonica, and exalting horns. But the autobiographical overtones of “It’s A Dream” suggest a welcome approach to the transience of existence in this material world, symbolized by the strings wafting in the air behind the singing.
Meanwhile, on “Here for You,” the author homes in on the practical necessity of relishing time as it unfolds, no matter the form it takes. Given Neil Young’s physical infirmities throughout his life, plus the often-extreme vagaries of his profession, he’s a credible source for that point of view.
Still, the musicianship behind Neil on Prairie Wind conjures a soothing air no matter the topic at hand. On the aforementioned couplet, co-producer Ben Keith’s slide guitar acts as a salve to uncertainty, as does the drumming elsewhere on the record: Karl Himmel and Chad Cromwell both play with emphatic authority.
Two performances of Prairie Wind were held in August 2005 at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and became the subject of a film directed by Jonathan Demme entitled Heart of Gold. Released in theaters, but for the sake of studio footage, it was not included on the 2005 double-disc DVD package of the album. Instead, it was released separately in the latter configuration.
At the outset of the fifty-two minutes, Neil speaks with more than a little equanimity about facing surgery for a brain aneurysm; his stoicism may be natural for a man who overcame polio and subsequently dealt with epileptic seizures, but his calm is still more than a little startling, especially given his father was ill during the recording of the LP and passed away soon after its completion (hence the dedication ‘For Daddy’).
Much like 2025’s Talkin’ to the Trees, there are more than a few intentional or unintentional teases of vintage material on Prairie Wind, not only the fleeting echo of “Journey Through The Past” on “Here for You.” And, with the extended perspective of two decades, it is impossible not to process the triptych of tunes that close the record as a collective expression of gratitude. Twenty years later, “This Old Guitar,” “He Was the King” (an overlong ode to Elvis), and “When God Made Me” sound even more thought-provoking in their placement on Prairie Wind, a composite acknowledgement of the scope of inspiration Young has been able to draw upon over the course of his life and career.
