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Mar 06, 2025 Web Exclusive By Austin Saalman

It comes as no surprise that a musical artist as versatile and prolific as Neil Young would possess a seemingly boundless stockpile of “lost” albums going back decades. It is, however, a relief for fans that such material may at last be heard as part of Young’s Analog Originals Series (AOS), beginning with 1977’s Oceanside Countryside. The album, as its title implies, is divided into two thematic halves: the first side consisting of five nautically inspired folk meditations recorded between Fort Lauderdale and Malibu, and the second populated by five down-home country romps recorded largely in Nashville. Representing a fascinating dichotomy, Oceanside Countryside showcases two distinct visions, skillfully performed by Young at the height of his creative powers.

Cosmic, haunting, and raw, Oceanside stands as perhaps the album’s stronger half. From the opening “Sail Away”—among Young’s most tragically underrated songs, presented here with a ghostly, stripped-down glow lost on the Rust Never Sleeps version—to the sorrowful “Lost in Space” and chilling “Captain Kennedy,” Oceanside suggests that Young had yet to shake the murky despair of his famously mournful “Ditch” Trilogy. Subsequently, the tender alienation of “Goin’ Back” and transcendental paranoia of “Human Highway” find Young both nostalgic and perplexed as he grapples with the conflicting natures of his privilege as a socioeconomically insulated rockstar, and the inevitable, often tragic, ties that bind the whole of society. Applying the earthy beauty of Harvest and American Stars ‘n Bars to the apocalyptically grungy drama of On the Beach and Tonight’s the Night, Oceanside finds its creator caught between multiple realms—city and nature, fame and anonymity, and life and death. This is prime Neil, a pleasure to encounter, his words and melodies recorded nearly five decades ago tailor-made for the current era’s sense of existential angst.

An abrupt shift from the acoustic “solo” powers of its flipside, Countryside finds Young accompanied by his band, immersing themselves in the era’s now-iconic Nashville scene. Such tracks as “Field of Opportunity” and “Dance, Dance, Dance,” drenched in shimmering fiddle and twangy dobro, transport the listener to another time and place in country music, Young’s gleeful drawl conveying enough grit and expertise to be forgiven any pretension or attempted pandering. Likewise, the melancholy pining of “It Might’ve Been”—Countryside’s finest cut—and tongue-in-cheek arcadian daydreaming of “Pocahontas” boast enough sincerity and poetic intent to persuade many a skeptical listener. Meanwhile, the cinematically cataclysmic terror of the album’s sweeping epic “The Old Homestead” prevents us from growing entirely comfortable with Countryside’s generally easygoing atmosphere, the track’s unnerving flow pushed forth by Levon Helm’s eerie drumbeat. Unlike Oceanside, however, Countryside lacks the timelessness of Young’s finest work, running the risk of sounding off-puttingly dated to younger listeners not invested in old-school country music.
Though many of its tracks would eventually find their way onto such popular Young releases of the late-’70s and early-’80s as Comes a Time, Rust Never Sleeps, and Hawks and Doves, they appear here in their most naked and unvarnished forms, lending Oceanside Countryside much of its appeal. There is a purity to these tracks, found readily bared in the soul of a malcontented troubadour whose rock and roll arrogance often burns off into anguished proclamations of introspective longing. Oceanside Countryside, for better or worse, offers healthy doses of both, rendering it a worthwhile listen for modern audiences seeking a bit of prophetic poetry as well-suited to the current era of doom and gloom as it was the tumultuous 1970s. (www.neilyoung.com)

Author rating: 7/10