Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.

-- R. Burns Epistle to a Young Friend

Friday, July 23, 2010

Heart of Gold

And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart -- Jeremiah 29:13


Last weekend, Bob discussed songs we hear that transport us, not necessarily because they are exceptional pieces of music but because they are markers, flags, and anchor points that are forever tied to times, emotions, states of mind, or illuminating, and occasionally transformative events in our lives. Though I was unable to comment at the time, I can say unequivocally that the first song that comes to mind is Neil Young's "Heart Of Gold". There are others, and it might be interesting to think about those some time, but I'll stick with just this one today.

I can hear this song after forty years, and, instantly, I am driving down a dark, two-lane highway that twists through the hills like a snake that's been hit with cattle prod. The air is Spring cool and easy and the windows are down. There is still a hint of new-car smell in the cabin. "Heart of Gold" turned me into a Neil Young fan, for better or worse. The arrangement, even on the top 40 studio version that I first heard, is appropriately sparse and open, just the heartbeat rhythm, Neil's strained, plaintive vocals, his guitar, and the breaking in of that almost chilling harmonica that is perhaps the most memorable part of the song.

Doc Watson and David Grisman did a CD called "Doc and Dawg" that consists mostly of well-known pieces like "Sweet Georgia Brown", "Summertime", "Kentucky Waltz", "Soldier's Joy", etc. It's a studio recording with Doc flat-picking, Grisman on mandolin, and, on some songs, another acoustic guitar player or a fiddle. They left in some of the back and forth conversation between the musicians. At the end of one song, Doc asks if David he is going to take their recordings and "play with them". Grisman replies that he is going to overdub them with the London Symphony orchestra. My memory gets a little tricky, but it seems to me that Young may actually have done a live recording with an orchestral backup. If that didn't destroy "Heart of Gold", it would certainly alter it at its core.

I'm not embarrassed by "Heart of Gold" as I would be by some of the other songs on my list (Melanie's "Brand New Key" being the most egregious example. I almost had to turn in my mancard over that one).

Consider Young's lyrics:


I want to live,
I want to give
I've been a miner
for a heart of gold.
It's these expressions
I never give
That keep me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.
Keeps me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.

I've been to Hollywood
I've been to Redwood
I crossed the ocean
for a heart of gold
I've been in my mind,
it's such a fine line
That keeps me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.
Keeps me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.

Keep me searching
for a heart of gold
You keep me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm growing old.
I've been a miner
for a heart of gold.


It's pretty simple. Something is missing from life. At seventeen, I thought what was missing was a girl that had a heart of gold. It didn't take too long for me to figure out that might be part of the answer but it was insufficient.

I've been to Hollywood \ I've been to Redwood

Hollywood is the symbol of all that is artificial and inauthentic, as opposed to "Redwood" which connotes the natural and nature itelf. Significantly, the heart of gold is not found in either of these extremes. Nor is it to be found by "crossing the ocean". No matter where we go, this thing eludes us. But something keeps me searching, and, if I look inside, I find that there is an indefinable, unutterable something that tells me the search must continue. The question is this: Will I find this unknown heart of gold before it is too late, before my life is gone beyond redemption? And I'm getting old.

At thirty, I thought it was God that I needed in my life, that He was this Heart of Gold. And He is, but that's not the end. Listen to what Jesus says, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life ...". You keep me searching for a heart of gold. I knew that I could not give up because the Lord said my search was not in vain. Jesus reveals to us that there can be "men with chests", that there is such a thing as true life — a pure, golden life.

Now, thirty is long gone long. And I'm growing old — growing old, still growing. I may not have found it, but at least I know where to look:

I've been a miner for a heart of gold ...

7 comments:

Rick said...

Great post, Mushroom.
I swear that night, some time after I submitted my shortlist of songs at OC, I remembered Heart of Gold. It may have been my first favorite song. Or the first song I "noticed". But it was late, so I didn't add it to my list at OC.
I'm glad I didn't. I like yours better.
My son turns 17 today.
True stories.

Rick said...

"Old Man" was good too. I can't say I cared nearly as much for any of his others.

mushroom said...

"Old Man" is a good one. I like "Long May You Run" about an old Buick Roadmaster Neil had -- though technically I think that is Stills-Young. "After the Goldrush" is interesting -- Dolly, Emmy Lou, and the fat chick did a neat cover of it probably back in the '80's.

Another one, "Revolution Blues" always takes me back as well. I had made a mix tape and "Revolution Blues" was on it. I was driving my pickup on some dirt roads with my hippie friend, and we were -- what's the word? -- ah, stoned (or stoned at the jukebox, to quote Hank, Jr.). The tape came on with the first three notes of "Revolution Blues", and we broke into simultaneous uncontrollable laughter.

The first line is, "We live in a trailer on the edge of town ...".

It's definitely true that not everything in Young's repetoire is classic.

mushroom said...

Happy Birthday to your son. Seventeen is cool.

Rick said...

Thanks, Mush.
Good story up there.

Joan of Argghh! said...

I loved those songs, too. Still do.

robinstarfish said...

Ah, Neil. One of my holy musical trinity. I could have filled Bob's list with Neil tunes that still affix me to concrete places and times.

He's a musician that takes giant risks and not everything works but that's why I've faithfully followed him all these years. It's a good model.