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Neil Young |
This week we take a look at “Powderfinger,” the classic Neil Young song. Although it’s been discussed ad nauseam by die-hard Young fans and is the subject of no small controversy among them (we’ll get to that in the next post), for us here at MBM the song presents some themes and conundrums that are new. And, of course, some that aren’t so new.
In all these songs, the victim is brought to the river by the murderer and killed. In “Powderfinger,” however, the victim stands guard at the river, and the murderers are coming down it in a boat, to get him. Let’s take a listen and get a little introductory background to this song:
“Powderfinger,” Neil Young, original acoustic demo, 1977
> lyrics
Because the lyrics are the source of the above-referenced discussion and controversy among Young fans, I’ll print them in full here as part of our introduction to the song:
Look out, Mama, there’s a white boat comin’ up the river
With a big red beacon, and a flag, and a man on the rail
I think you’d better call John,
‘Cause it don’t look like they’re here to deliver the mail
And it’s less than a mile away
I hope they didn’t come to stay
It’s got numbers on the side and a gun
And it’s makin’ big waves.
Daddy’s gone, my brother’s out hunting in the mountains
Big John’s been drinking since the river took Emmy-Lou
So the powers that be left me here to do the thinkin’
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wonderin’ what to do
And the closer they got,
The more those feelings grew.
Daddy’s rifle in my hand felt reassurin’
He said, red means run, son, numbers add up to nothin’
But when the first shot hit the dock I saw it comin’
Raised my rifle to my eye
Never stopped to wonder why.
Then I saw black,
And my face splashed in the sky.
Shelter me from the powder and the finger
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger
Think of me as one you’d never figured
Would fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love,
I know I’ll miss her.
Young started writing the song in 1975 but didn’t finish it until 1977. Notably, he originally wrote it for Lynyrd Skynyrd, sending them the acoustic demo. Ronnie Van Zant, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s lead singer, was reportedly planning on using the track for a solo LP, but his death in a tragic 1977 plane crash that also killed several other band members prevented that. Van Zant was 29.
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Lynyrd Skynyrd |
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Young first performed the song live in May of 1978 at The Boarding House in San Francisco. It was first released, as a recorded live performance, on Young’s 1979 album with Crazy Horse, Rust Never Sleeps. Upon first public performance and first recorded release, then, this song about a fictional death come suddenly and to one too young was already associated with an actual death come suddenly and to those too young.
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Ronnie Van Zant |
We know what happened to Van Zant and his friends and colleagues. But how, and why, did death come so suddenly to the 22-year old protagonist of Young’s song? What happens to this young man, and why? What is this song about? How do we know? Does it matter? Why do we care? Dowe care? And what do the song’s origins, and that river, have to do with the answers?
These are the questions that spark so much debate and controversy among Young fans. In the next post, we’ll get to those questions and the answers people have gravitated towards. I’ll jump into that fray not because I think I have anything to add to it, but rather because the ongoing conversation among fans about this song mirrors the type of questions that we pose here on this blog about murder ballads generally, in what I think are interesting ways.
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A young Neil Young |
Before we go there, however, it’s easy to identify why this song touches so many on a purely emotional level. It’s not just because it’s about death come suddenly and to those much too young. It’s also because it’s about the heavy burden of responsibility and the weight of knowing that you are about to meet your fate, alone. It’s a song about seeing what’s coming, and knowing it’s not good, but not knowing what to do about it and being left on your own to figure it out. And giving it what you’ve got anyway, while knowing it is likely not going to be enough.
“Powderfinger,” Neil Young, live with the International Harvesters
Like the boat coming down the river in the song, the song itself casts “big waves.” As a result, for many it is almost overwhelming, something we’ll see in the next post.
Among all the covers of the song, I think its emotional core is perhaps best conveyed, especially to those who perhaps aren’t such big Young fans, by Margo Timmins and the Cowboy Junkies. The Junkies slow the tempo, add a mandolin and an accordion, and the waves of the song’s emotion get even bigger. We’ll end for today with this version.
“Powderfinger,” Cowboy Junkies