"A completely biased report from the
front lines of London’s Fleadh Festival"

London’s annual Fleadh festival in Finsbury Park presents itself as a celebration of Celtic music and dance. It’s an eclectic mix of music and audience united by a mythical bond of Celtic heritage, generally accepted to be the copious amounts of beer and spirits consumed by those present.

I attended Fleadh for two decidedly un-Celtic reasons; Evan Dando and Neil Young. One London columnist concluded that Young had been invited because he dresses like a farmer. Evan Dando redeemed his un-Celticness by being introduced by none other than Marianne Faithful.

Evan Dando and the Lemonheads epitomised alternative rock when I was 14 and 15. It’s a shame about Ray, which I listened to for the first time in ages not long ago, strikes me as near a perfect 14 song, 35 minute sonic explosion as has ever been recorded. The band’s cover of "Mrs. Robinson" confirmed that in the early 1990s, as in the mid-1960s, that we were still all looking for Joe DiMaggio.

Since then, Dando has shed the Lemonheads, now playing an acoustic set with only one other (guitar-playing) musician on-stage. Dando’s voice maintains that slacker beauty. He played numerous Lemonheads tunes, including "Confetti", "Rudderless", "It’s a shame a about Ray" and "Big gay heart". Dando’s acoustic strumming was made all the more remarkable by intermittent electric outbursts which animated the tunes to an incredible extent. The guy was amazing and, judging by the new tunes played, his new record will reward those who have waited five years for a new record. It should be mentioned that Dando does not at present have a record deal and graciously asked the crowd whether any of them could hook him up. All very amusing, but this man deserves a record deal.

Neil Young and Crazy Horse remained the true objective of my trek up to North London. Young may well be the most diverse musician in the last 30 years. He has played extensively with Buffalo Springfield , Crosby, Stills and Nash, Booker T and the MG’s, Pearl Jam and, infamously, Crazy Horse. It is the last of these bands who have most consistently toured with Young and with whom he achieved the reputation as the "Godfather of Grunge".

Every time I listen to Young something different strikes me and he remains one of the few artists who I am unable to conceptualise and compartmentalise in some fashion. Some would view such attempts as a crime, but I tend to view it as a testament to the unique talent and versatility that is Neil Young. Neil Young epics such as "Ohio", "For What It’s Worth", "Heart of Gold", and "Sea of Madness" helped define a generation without most people knowing they were Young tunes.

Waiting in the rain for Young and Crazy Horse to take the stage, it struck me that you didn’t really feel like a legend would emerge. You were waiting for songs. Unlike with Dylan, where you feel like you’re visiting a monument to say you’ve been there, with Young you get the unadulterated version, pure balls out rock n’roll with guitars whirling, producing a wall of sound which performers half his age can only dream of.

The songs themselves are killers. "Hey, Hey, My, My", "Cortez the Killer", "Cinammon Girl", "Like a Hurricaine" and "Piece of Crap" (dedicated to George W. Bush) lend credence to Young and Crazy Horse’s reputation as the Godfather of grunge. In between these volcanic tunes, Young threw in a four-song acoustic set, which included the magnificent "From Hank to Hendrix".

I really don’t believe I have ever attended a gig where such a large portion of the audience reacted so emotionally to the tunes. It was pissing down rain, but the group of friends on my left (clearly zonked out of their skulls), danced in a circle to "Pocahontes", all crying…I don’t know if that’s a Celtic thing but it made some sense.

The really cool thing about my day in the mud remained that it was a no-frills celebration of loud and simple music. And that, my friends, is more than we could ask for in this age of pyrotechnics and lasers. So next time you have nothing to do on a rainy Saturday, go out and get Young and Crazy Horse’s Live Rust, throw some mud around your living room while getting completely sloshed, play the music loud and pretend you’re a Celt. It worked for me.