The ability of music to connect with an audience is one of its most potent features. The best songs are able to transcend all the little details and allow every listener in the world to find a piece of themselves between the lines, even though an artist may write specific lyrics about a very specific time in their lives. Neil Young, on the other hand, was always going to create music that was primarily about him, and he was aware that no one would ever fully comprehend what he was doing with Trans.
Because it was becoming increasingly difficult to fit Young into a single musical category at this point in his career. He did enjoy dipping in and out of some genres, such as hard rock, folk, and country music, but which genre would appear on a record depended on his mood at the time or whether he was using Crazy Horse.
However, those styles began to feel a little stale for Young after the recording sessions for albums like Rust Never Sleeps. It was time to make another change. By the time he entered the 1980s, his admirers were growing increasingly doubtful of an album like Reactor. This album featured synths and keyboards that completely contradicted his voice.
Fans’ concerns back then resulted from their ignorance of the meaning of transgender. This electronic mess, with Young using a vocoder for most of the record and sounding like an elderly grandfather trying to pull off his best A Flock of Seagulls impression, makes Reactor look like the height of class in contrast to the last album.
While anyone with ears would consider this a major betrayal for Young, it’s far more heartfelt than people realise. He told Mojo, “You see, my son is severely handicapped. And at that time was simply trying to find a way to talk, to communicate with other people.” That’s the main idea behind Trans. That’s the reason you can hear me saying something on that record but not understand what I’m saying.
This wasn’t just a wild experiment gone wrong or a cheap cash grab. Many others have been saying that Young sold out to the masses. There are moments when listening to “Little Thing Called Love” that will make you cry. This is the sound of a father frantically attempting to speak with his son.
Although the message was undoubtedly good, it didn’t exactly sell very well. Young was already enjoying success with his outrageous records. One album later, he made Everybody’s Rockin’ in retaliation. His record company had called him, demanding that he make the next record at least rock-related.
Although Trans is by no means Young’s worst work to date, it is clear from an objective perspective that his intentions are at least good. Sometimes, despite having the best of intentions, the best ideas don’t translate into the greatest music. The lengthy journey towards creating an album like Freedom couldn’t have arrived at a better time. It came at a crucial point in Young’s career timeline.
