Fred Neil and a Gift from a Friend

“I have something for your record player.”

That sentence from a long-time friend and former colleague caught my attention. Not long before, I had told him I was delving back into vinyl, and if a record was coming my way from him, I knew it had to be special.

Rob is a poet-essayist who’s had a quiet but successful writing and teaching career. Much of my understanding of the essay is the reflection of his influence, and he has always been a selective gift-giver. Something from Rob was not given causally; rather, extensive thought had gone into it.

It was also not lost on me that I’d been given something physical, an artifact that existed in the real world, not on the cloud. It would take up space in my house and, in return, give back to me art.

Rob left the album with the secretary and a note explaining that this artist’s work had long been part of his life. He had everything on CD and had bought an album thinking he might return to vinyl, but it hadn’t happened, so he was passing along his copy of Fred Neil.

I was unfamiliar with Neil or his music though he’d been noted in Bob Dylan’s Chronicles: Volume 1, which I’d recently finished reading.

Fred always tried to make a place for most performers and was as diplomatic as possible. Sometimes the room would be inexplicably empty, sometimes half-empty and then suddenly for no apparent reason it would be flushed with people with lines outside. Fred was the man down here, the main attraction and his name was on the marquee, so maybe a lot of these people came to see him. I don’t know. He played a big dreadnought guitar, lot of percussion in his playing, piercing driving rhythm—a one-man band, a kick in the head singing voice. He did fierce versions of hybrid chain gang songs and whomped the audience into a frenzy. I’d heard stuff about him, that he was an errant sailor, harbored a skiff in Florida, was an underground cop, had hooker friends and a shadowy past. He’d come up to Nashville, drop off songs that he wrote and then head for New York where he’d lay low, wait for something to blow over and fill up his pockets with wampum. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a huge story. He seemed to have no aspirations. We were very compatible, didn’t talk personal at all. He was very much like me, polite but not overly friendly, gave me pocket change at the end of the day, said “Here…so you’ll keep out of trouble.”

(For more about Neil’s background, Scott Schinder provides a biography of Neil here, and Peter Lee Neff has written a biography, That's The Bag I'm In: The Life, Music and Mystery of Fred Neil.)

Rob’s recommendation (a gorgeous transparent vinyl, too) did not disappoint.

The shimmery opening chords of “The Dolphins” set the mood of the album as Neil’s 12-string guitar and baritone voice ask, “I’ve been searching for the dolphins in the sea / and sometimes I wonder, do you ever think of me?”

I was unfamiliar with Neil’s work — a fairly common phenomen, it turns out — but I did know one song, “Everybody’s Talkin’.”

(I’m fairly certain, however, the I remember Harry Nilsson’s cover from Midnight Cowboy.)

Music, like nothing else, takes me out of the moment and puts me someplace else, in this case, a very young me riding in the car with my mother who had the radio on to whatever happened to be on KVOW.

I got lucky in that I’d read Dylan’s memoir to close to hearing Neil’s album — the two pieces went together seamlessly, engaging and enlightening each other.

I’ll need to live with Fred Neil for a bit before I sort out my thinking on this one. (“I’ve Got a Secret” is a track I can’t get out of my head.) I’ve ordered Neff’s bio and plan to listen to more of Neil’s music. But this is exactly the kind of rabbit hole I enjoy going down, so I’ll be back.

But right now, I know two things.

First, I’ve got a new artist to learn from and learn more about.

Second, getting a physical gift from a friend — an album and not a gift card for iTunes — is pretty terrific.

I like how this project is starting off.

As always, thanks for reading —

307Renee

Revisiting Vinyl is an occasional blog that explores various topics related to music.