Out of the Blue

Cream, December, 1978:

Between songs he hoists a sign spelling "DEVO" and flashes it to the
crowd with a weary wolf grin. Have you got it yet? His hippie fans
shake their ponytails and stoke their pipes, pondering... Several men in
lab smocks roam the stage, musing and taking notes. Have they seen
Neil? Two wizard cone head types sit at the control board: the standing
one, as it turns out, is a wooden Indian. At least we hope so when Neil
shakes his hand (heyyy) then knocks his head off (whoaaaa).

Just when my companion decides its time to check the stash for
disturbing, possibly hallucinogenic particles. Neil lies down in a long flat
sleeping bag type thing, back to the fetal position and is carried off by the
Sand People. "Time for a break", says the voice over the speakers, who
goes on in Woodstock talk (stuff about medic tents, your wifes having a
baby, etc). " He's bummed that he wasn't in CSN when they played
Woodstock" is the theory proffered by the cowboy hat in front of us.

Second part of the show is Electric Neil and Crazy Horse- my co-editor
down the row scoffs that he is hiding behind all of his wah
pedal/feedback stuff so he won't really have to play guitar, and be sure
it's a powerful, sonic reducer set of ear destroying power chords ( "
Tonights The Night" as heavy metal thunder), but I demur. Why, he can
play walking down his ladder. Even the most painful moments of his
guitar solo in " Like A Hurricane"- and it was intense ( fellow in front of
us was whimpering) -were pleasureful. ( To be sure, an audience
exposed to that kind of metallurgic bombast was transformed into a
beast that screamed "Smash it!" when Mr. Young's guitar went nuts, and
kind of wailed as they trailed out into the parking lot. Over the broken
bottles, and scattered groups of hopheads and drunk juveniles, this wail
would be picked up by the wind, float through the pine woods
surrounding the arena, die for a while, then start up again.)