Neil Young - Milan 1993 (review)

Beautiful grimes in warm dark,
Then comes the electric wavering.
Our heartbeats are through the mill
As before obstetric duty.

The birth is luminous,
Guitars in delirium,
The tone is vertiginous,
This very old swing is his opium.

If the label is put down,
Rock'n'roll remains his image
And will not go down below
By some slams or flashy warblings.

The life is loneliness
That is unknown. Our garden soul
Gets out of sight (by anxiety?).
Our lively body is its den.

The monotonous plan spangles now
In lush hootings.
Some soft thin strips whip
Some thighs, lovingly.

Some broad thrifty eyes
Give rhythm, by these passive features,
To the lullaby with metronome colour
That throws us in expansive blue.

Some words in the ear show
Eloquent shoulders.
Serenade and crank
For forms so gorgeous.

Fanned by the fact of Arcturus,
They slake their thirst.
Then they bang their humerus.
They are ready to lift weights.

And the sleight of hand occurs in a wink,
Just at the time of the effort, the loner
Cuts their sound, threads - towards his coffin -
In an amusing and voluntary breakaway.

The harmonica slips in regular rust
On the moneybox.
It stretches towards a broad face
Under a frenzied ovation.

"What’s happening? How you doin’?
It’s nice to see you again."

To play the approving innocent
Comes from arrogant behaviour.
Four distances taken by a mediator
Are a good binder for hurricanes.

And the new recipe
Contains good ingredients
To eat with tong
And to entertain some customers

Who are very friendly and extremely funny!
Wind of beautiful saturated shivers.
The permutation of parts
Goes towards the tormented split

That is applauded and so unknown!
Another soft gust of wind
Has thrown us all in the avenue
Which is hidden in the hollow of a basin.

The monotonous plan spangles now
In lush hootings.
Some words in the ear whip
Shoulders, lovingly.

And the fever shakes us
Until the tip of the compressed fingers
As left in a doorframe.
And now we are unconscious!

Stools are brought.
With the moon, I see dancing
You and this hot-tempered torment.
Dark won’t moderate in any way.

The loner is quite alone
And thinks he is among shadows
With a white profile such a shroud.
His penumbra goes out by a sign.

To have the fidgets is in place,
And also to have the cheerful imitation.
One string is dislocated
On the abounding line.

To uncross this sleepyhead
Who’s insensitive to the movement.
A trade is coming. No? Yes?
But the waves already move the friend.

The without-voice joins our edge
And then he is recovered
With the launch on the starboard side
For a less moderate climate

With the long blasts. With a jump,
The Quartermaster steers
For a free start
With bodies and hands that invigorates.

The revolt leans on the atmosphere.
Keep on rocking, everybody!
The Troublemaker offers up his flesh.
His hand crushes this Thursday

And he brings it back on the watchtower
Without the female forms.
He’s bent double such gathering lily of the valley.
He’s insane such armed with canines.

The agitator swims embarrassed.
But all is joy for this monkey.
"Thank you everybody!» Refusal
That he rests his brains

But nothing's any good and the notte
Dissolves our softened weight.
But our soul gets the mud off.
Grazie e arrivederci.


Denis Between The Rusty Words
© IDDN 2005

My original poem is into verse

Setlist from this show : w/ Booker T and The MG's ; 07-15-1993, Forum Assago, Milan, Italy

Mr. Soul / The Loner / Southern Man / Helpless / Like A Hurricane / Motorcycle Mama / Love To Burn / Separate Ways / Change Your Mind / Powderfinger / Only Love Can Break Your Heart / Harvest Moon / The Needle And The Damage Done / Live To Ride / Down By The River / Rockin' In The Free World / All Along The Watchtower
Band :

Neil Young : vocals, guitar, harmonica, piano
Booker T. Jones : organ, synthesizer, vocals
Steve Cropper : guitar
Donald Duck Dunn : bass
Jim Keltner : drums
Astrid Young : backup vocals
Annie Stocking : backup vocals