NEIL YOUNG solo acoustic & electric | Friday, July 30

Neil Young simply towering in solo gig

Commanding the attention of a 3,000- seat theater with nothing but yourself and a collection of your favorite instruments is a tough gig.

Many have tried. Few have passed the yawn test. Neil Young has passed it repeatedly, however.

On Wednesday, he turned a sold-out Shea’s into his living room. It was as if he’d invited us over for a cookout and a round-the- campfire jam session. Of course, it’s not often that one finds oneself invited to a backyard party at the home of one of the rock era’s finest songwriters.

Acoustic one-man gigs can be boring. Young’s wasn’t. Part of the reason for that is the fact that Wednesday’s show—the second stop on the “Twisted Road: Neil Young Solo” tour, after Tuesday’s gig at the Palace Theater in Albany—was not a wholly acoustic affair.

In the Shea’s lobby, Young’s merchandise stand was selling T-shirts with the legend “I said solo— they said acoustic” emblazoned across their front. This was telling, partly because it revealed that time has done nothing to diminish Young’s irreverent streak, and partly because the arc of the show was thus defined. Young played alone, but he also played electric guitar a-plenty, and trotted between upright piano, grand piano and a funky old pump organ whenever he wasn’t playing acoustic guitar.

A dull moment never made itself known. The set list was stellar, too, as it should have been for a show commanding such a healthy ticket price. Young pulled from every corner of his storied career, and offered a sneak peak of material from the album he recently recorded with producer Daniel Lanois. Unsurprisingly, all of it was well received. But even if Young’s fans are prone to accept every utterance and C to G chord progression from their man as some sort of divine decree, Young was clearly intent on pleasing the house’s toughest critic — himself.

Toward that end, he brought it, big time, and left it all on the stage. Young opened with an acoustic “My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue),” and immediately it was clear that his voice was in great shape, its aching falsetto in full-on yearning mode. “Tell Me Why” followed quickly, and was profound in its stark emotional honesty. “Helpless” sealed the deal; Young owned Shea’s, and his blend of wistful naturalism and aching loss had been writ large. He could’ve coasted from there on out, but didn’t. New songs — the whimsical, Graham Nash-like “Leia,” a blistering electric “Sign of Love,” and a down-home countrified “Peaceful Valley” — felt comfortably familiar, but also reminded us that Young does not intend to go gently into some languid good night. He’s still got the fire, in a visceral way.

Of course, the older, more fully seasoned songs sliced into the most productive veins, and for good reason. Young’s most incisive songs don’t get old; they just gain wisdom. So an electric “Ohio” was no less resonant than it was when Nixon was in office; “Down by the River” ached more profoundly than ever; “After the Gold Rush” sounded like carnival music set in a post-apocalyptic landscape; and “I Believe In You” became the most beautiful love song of the 21st century. There’s no one quite like Neil Young. He continues to speak with the flawless wisdom of a child.

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