The first words out of Neil Young’s mouth come from a new song and go something like, “Long ago in the book of ages….” It is an appropriate starting stance, emerging from distortion to address an audience of old and very new fans, many of whom were born around the time of Young’s resurgence in the Unplugged era. For the next two hours, as the wind picked up and the kids puzzle at the extended closings of each number, Young and Crazy Horse conjure a vigorous, at times defiant set filled with greatest hits and a healthy dose from the new album, Psychedelic Pill.

I’ve been listening to Rust Never Sleeps and Live Rust for weeks and singing “Pocahontas” when I wake up, so when the opening chords of the second song unfurl, I am more than ready to be emotionally loud about America: “Shelter me from the powder and the finger/Comfort me with the
thought that I pulled the trigger.” Next, another new one, “Walk Like A Giant,” where Young begins with “I want to walk like a giant across the land,” and ends with “I used to walk like a giant across the land.” All involved should know now: this is Crazy Horse and they will clash and pound in a huddle center stage until their personal, proper sonic trance is achieved. This may be the longest song of the evening, with repeated, bombastic 1-2-3-4 close outs that venture into the darkest death moments of a colossus. When the Wagnerian thunder subsides, there is Young with an acoustic guitar and harmonica: “I hit the city and I lost my band/I watched the needle take another man.”

He follows this with a new one, “Twisted Road,” about hearing “Like A Rolling Stone” for the first time and listening to the Dead. An heir to “From Hank to Hendrix” and “Buffalo Springfield Again,” the song is another of Young’s trips down a memory lane that, for better or worse, come off as candid, if unnecessary. These were real moments in the life of an artist, but the popular awareness of the touchstones leaves little to be revealed. As happens quite a bit these days, I feel much older than the youngest and redundantly aware of my junior position to the originals.

The noise returns sweetly with “Ramada Inn,” also off the new record. The wife and I are now maybe 50 feet from the stage, where a prom-like atmosphere wafts from various couples embracing to the chorus, “She loves him so” and “He loves her so.” We throttle back to more dangerous liaisons with “Cinnamon Girl,” which sounds as crisply adolescent as ever.

On the screens, I see that two fools close to the stage have brought two placards: “HARVEST” “MOON.” Apparently, Young sees them, too. “I’m going to get in my time machine.” He begins to run the edge of his pick up the neck of his guitar. “Here’s ‘After the Gold Rush’…(abrasive string growl)…and now we’re back to today.” A few moments later, he declares that all the songs going forward will sound the same. A snarling “Fuckin’ Up” is the response to the Adderall generation’s demands for instant favorites, to their need to get so manufactured-ly fucked up, and the exchanges between bassist Billy Talbot, guitarist Pancho Sampedro, and Young are marked with wicked laughter. Talbot actually kicks Young in the pants at one point. Fuck the HARVEST MOON guys.

“This is another song that sounds like the last song. But you’ve never heard it, ’cause it’s a new song. We only know half of it, and we’re going to play that part first. It’s about a beautiful girl. You like that?” Where Clint Eastwood babbles to chairs, Neil Young shreds immortal, unafraid to stand on his body of work with his incisors bare, progress maintained. He does “Mr. Soul,” its rejoinder of “Is it strange I should change?” an unfailing mission statement/query, forty-five years after its birth. “My My, Hey Hey” closes out the set.

Tonight, we have my father and his lady friend with us, so we pack up and begin to exit while the encore cheers build. By the time we reach the City Park lagoon, “Like A Hurricane” issues from beyond the ferris wheel. Parts of Voodoo Fest’s trippy lights and Burning Man miniatures feel forced, but the sound of Crazy Horse filter by a carnival, heard from water’s edge in the shadow of a cotton candy stand — I’ll take that.

Setlist (which may be a little out of order)

1. Driftin’ Back (I think)
2. Pocahontas
3. Walk Like A Giant
4. Needle and the Damage Done
5. Twisted Road
6. Ramada Inn
7. Cinnamon Girl
8. Born in Ontario
9. Fuckin’ Up
10. Psychedelic Pill
11. Mr. Soul
12. My My Hey Hey
13. Like A Hurricane