
The Division Bell at 32: Real Moments, Too Much Space
A solemn review of a record whose long hours conceal but a few true treasures amid much idle drifting.


A solemn review of a record whose long hours conceal but a few true treasures amid much idle drifting.

A review of Neil Young's Mirror Ball, a loud, quickly made record where a backing band pushes his old pictures into rough, free shapes.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse's 1994 record of grief, a plain, heavy work that sits inside loss instead of explaining it.

A record of steady guitar and long repetition, wild and loud, wherein a band lets each song run as long as it will.

Neil Young brings back Crazy Horse for a record that reaches for a loud old sound but finds the studio working against it.

A doomed alien singer, a band of guitar spiders, eleven songs burning out before an audience — the record that made Bowie a star.

A solemn regard upon Aretha Franklin's grand record of respect and sorrow, a work whose passion has not diminished with years.

A record of noise, daring, and habits nobody else would touch — eleven tracks that still play like a warning.

A record from 1988 that takes attention and never gives it back, full of noise, fury, and voice.

A farewell record of mood, not song, wherein Pink Floyd leaves much unsaid, and calls it, at last, an ending.

A grim tale of Neil Young's 1988 Bluenotes record, its banned title song, and the guitar that saves it from excess brass.

Neil Young turns country on Old Ways, ten plain tracks of steel guitar and sentiment, with four songs worth keeping.
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