Waging Heavy Peace (23 page)

With David Geffen (left) and Elliot Roberts, at Lookout Management offices in West Hollywood, 1971.

Chapter Forty-One

Friends for Life

M
y manager, Elliot Roberts, plays such a large part in everything I am doing that it makes more sense to say what
we
are doing! I speak with Elliot five times a day at least. Everything we do, we talk about. He advises me on every move I make. I am involved in a lot of things and I am capable of screwing every one of them up without even trying. That is why I consult with my Wise Counselor on every little thing.

We fight. We argue. We laugh. We cry.

There is something to long-term relationships and loyalty that you learn over time. There are pitfalls to avoid, grooves that become ruts that you need to climb out of, and relationships that sour for one reason or another that still have to be managed gracefully. Because I tend to avoid the confrontations and delivering bad news, I am not good at doing any of that. Elliot is. He knows how to communicate where I don’t. That is why I am where I am now.

He has a cell phone as his instrument. He is tech savvy, but he is a people person, believing in face-to-face relationships and speaking relationships being at the core of any e-mail. He hardly ever writes an e-mail. He has to talk directly to people. Just as I wake up every day with a new idea, he wakes up every day with a new approach to solving the problems that arise with the projects I am already immersed in. There are a lot of them. This is our pattern.

As I’ve said, he is also one of the funniest people I have ever met. He is full of one-liners, and I love to hear him talk when he is on a roll. Oh my God, he blows people’s minds with some of his insights and humorous comments. If there is a heavy meeting, he is the icebreaker. Let me tell you a typical Elliot story: We were having a meeting in an office in San Francisco. Our agents were there and we were talking about the future of our music system project, negotiating some fine points having to do with a lot of money and my control of the business. It was a little tense in the room. The negotiations continued. Elliot made some strong statements, and the other people there did, too. It was not an easy situation, but we all had a common goal. Elliot reminded everyone of that. Eventually we got what we needed. The room was still tense. Elliot looked his adversary squarely in the eye and said, “I just want you to know, we have no issues at all with your partner’s drinking problem. It’s really not a problem to us.” There was a pause. Everyone started laughing uproariously! Elliot had brought the house down. His ability to move seamlessly from one mode to another is unbelievable.

Elliot navigates the rocky shoals of Respect. He is not perfect, and neither am I. If we shipwreck, we jump in the same lifeboat and row like hell. Thank you, Elliot.

Elliot and I have a long history with David Geffen. David started in the mailroom at William Morris, as did Elliot. David was a master of the deal, as was Elliot. David shaped a lot of things and was an artist himself. He played a deal like it was a Stradivarius. He was always on the phone in his office when we all started out together. He and Elliot were Geffen-Roberts, our managers. A superstar in his field, David was used to winning and expected to be successful at everything he did, and he was successful at
almost
everything he tried to do. His first foray into film was not a success, and I can’t even remember what it was. That was a rarity, in that he did not succeed. Geffen Records was not the success I think he expected it to be. He had a lot of great artists on board and wanted to re-create Asylum Records, which was a total success, giving artists freedom. It was the ultimate label. The Eagles were one of the first acts. David’s taste was great, having started with Laura Nyro, who we all loved as a great artist and unique presence, but Geffen Records never quite achieved the success he’d hoped to reach.

I think David’s biggest failure was with me. I was happy to move to Geffen Records. Things had fallen off a bit at Reprise, and my last couple of records had not been that successful; that was not because of Reprise, it was because careers go up and down. Some records are hits and some are great but are not commercial. That’s just how it is. Reprise did a fine job of presenting all of my records in a way that did them justice, even if they were not commercially successful.
Tonight’s the Night
is a great example of that, as is
On the Beach
. They were not
Harvest
, but they were good representations of where I was at the time. I was really interested in communicating what I felt at the time, more interested in that than succeeding commercially, and it was in that spirit that I moved to Geffen Records.

I made a record called
Island in the Sun
about the planet Earth and invited David over to hear it at the house I had rented in Hawaii. He was not impressed with it and asked me to do something else. That was the first time that had ever happened to me. It was a good record, and I liked it. To accommodate David, I thought I would do a record that was a combination of that one and one that I was already hearing in my head to follow it up. The second one,
Trans
, was inspired by my son Ben and his communication challenges. Because of Ben’s quadriplegia, he couldn’t talk or communicate in a way that most people could understand, so I made a record where I sang through a machine and most people couldn’t understand what I was saying, either.

I felt like it was art, an expression of something deeply personal. I called it
Trans
, meaning trying to get across from one world to another, being locked in a body without an intelligible voice, trying to communicate through the use of machines, computers, switches, and other devices. It was a very deep and inaccessible concept.

I had visions of a series of videos to support it. They were set in a hospital with a lot of scientists and doctors trying to unlock the secrets of a little being who had so much to say and no way to say it.
Trans
should have been just that group of songs, not a combination of those and some from
Island in the Sun
, which diluted it. There were a lot of robots and half humans in the video dreams. Even though I had ideas on how to do it inexpensively, Geffen Records would not fund those videos.

When
Trans
, my first record for Geffen, was not a commercial success, it was obviously because it was a weird record in the eyes of some of my listeners. I was singing through a vocoder about things they did not understand, and they could not see the characters I was doing because there were no videos to go with them. Geffen Records tried to present it like it was a hit record, using their publicity machine. But it was incomplete without the videos and should not have been overpresented. It should have been pushed subtly. I had different goals from my new record company. So the lesson from that is I should not have caved to Geffen in the first place. I should have put out
Island in the Sun
in its original form and then I should have done
Trans
, with more room for the
Trans
songs to establish themselves as a complete cohesive atmosphere. I had betrayed myself by not staying true to my art and following the muse.

After that, the Guy Who Was President of Geffen started telling me what to do. He told me to make a rock and roll record. So perhaps vindictively, I gave them a record called
Everybody’s Rockin’
that was traditional old rock and roll, literally what he had asked me to do. I conveyed his misguided request into an expression by becoming an old-fashioned rocker. Of course, my literal interpretation was not what he had in mind. He wanted
Rust Never Sleeps
. I think the Guy Who Was President was under pressure to deliver big hits.

Then I made a record in Nashville called
Old Ways
. They didn’t like it, either. I didn’t put it out. Then I did another record in Nashville that I called
Old Ways
as well.

I liked it.

They hated it.

They released it, but buried it completely, just like my previous two records. They were not behind them, because they were not box-office hits.

I was not doing what I was told to do. And they sued me for making music “uncharacteristic of Neil Young.” That was Geffen Records’ biggest mistake, I think. The mistakes all started when I caved and didn’t give them
Island in the Sun
. They wanted me to be commercially successful, and I wanted to be an artist expressing myself—those two goals are not always compatible. I was expecting to have the same artistic freedom that I had at Asylum Records, but Geffen Records wanted me to be a smash, selling millions of records. Most important, Geffen was not hands-on at Geffen Records. He had other people doing that. It showed.

The lawyers got in a pissing contest and made things much worse. It was egos and Hollywood nightmares. But it’s over, and I still love David. He just let his record company make a big mistake with me and was disconnected from what was happening.

Some people think there must be bad blood between us. No. There isn’t any. David is still one of my best friends, a very brilliant, generous, and caring man, doing so much for AIDS research and so much for the arts, as well as the Bridge School and countless other projects. We go back.

Chapter Forty-Two

T
he Aloha Garage is part of our property in Hawaii. There is a red 1971 Cadillac Eldorado convertible in the Aloha Garage. It must be the only one on the island, maybe even the whole Hawaiian Islands! Given my history with cars, particularly Eldorado convertibles, you would have to agree that it is significant that that car was in the garage of the house Pegi found for us and was not known to us at the time of the purchase.

I think we may have found out about it on the list of things the owner was “throwing in” to the purchase. Anyway, there she sits. Really nice faded original red paint and beautifully worn red leather interior. When we fly over to the island, Tom and Nell, our caretakers, always bring the Eldorado out to meet the plane, and then Pegi and I drive back to the Aloha Garage, which takes around a half hour. It is so cool to see that car waiting in the middle of a bunch of SUVs at the airport!

As I sit here today, writing this book, I cannot help but wonder about the significance of that car and our big green lawn with the palm trees blowing in the wind, two of my biggest dreams, coming to me at the same time in the same place. Right now I am listening to the wind blowing and rustling through the palms, the sound of the ocean just feet away, and the sun is beginning to sink into the waves. I see that big green lawn and remember the crazy nights when I would be amped out of my mind on coke, just praying that someday I could find relief and just be in a place like this, with the elements all working together to caress my senses.

For a while that happened a lot. I was into the drug so much that I would end up having the same dream very often, just being there amped out of my mind, wondering if and when I would be able to sleep, wishing I were on an island with the big green lawn and the palm fronds rustling, feeling that gentle wind. It was a recurring dream then, and now it is a reality.

Marc Benioff and Greg McManus are our neighbors in Hawaii. Marc, founder of Salesforce.com, and Greg, who owns and operates the Napa Valley Wine Train, scooped me up to go to Kona and trip around Costco and Sports Authority for an afternoon. These two guys are my good friends, and I very much enjoy hanging out with them. Costco and Sports Authority are like cultural centers here on the Big Island. You might get a similar feeling from walking around in them for a few hours, looking at the displays, as you would in a big museum in some forgotten future.

We started off at Costco by mistakenly going in the OUT door and being redirected by a helpful associate. First the flat-screen TVs greeted us with their shiny displays mirroring all of the neon lights in the ceiling. I learned that some screens are less reflective and noted that for a future upgrade to our existing TV. I also noted all of the online services that are now available on standard television sets. Things are evolving at a rapid rate.

My first big purchase was a set of replacement brushes for my Sonicare toothbrush, a product I am very impressed with. I really needed those and had been wondering how to find them. We wandered on through aisles of myriad products before we reached the book department, where Marc purchased several books for his little daughter, Leia. She is a beautiful and bright child who calls me Uncle Neil and asks me where my guitar is. We made a note to look for a guitar for her, but only found ukuleles at Costco. A plan was made to locate a music store. There were no records for sale at Costco except for local Hawaiian. I was happy for the locals.

The food department was awesome, with organic chicken breasts, much to my surprise. I am very big on organic food and did not expect to see it in Costco. Further exploration led to a staggering variety of fruits and vegetables, meats, fish, and local foods. Endless rows of packaged goods dazzled the eye. A guy went by with his cart completely full of chips, overflowing with a wide variety of brands.

For a moment I remembered the mom-and-pop record stores of my youth and the little towns I had lived in with families running the stores and restaurants, gas stations, clothing stores, and bakeries. I felt pretty old for a moment. Then I regrouped and realized I was alive and should be thankful.

You can find anything at Costco. After about two hours of walking the aisles, we had finally made it to the checkout with my new Fisker.

Next, Sports Authority beckoned, and the guys made some purchases. I came up empty. Greg got a nice wearable camera. Eventually we made our way to a music store. I was excited to get a guitar for Leia. Oddly, the store was called Kona Bay Books, and was located in the industrial area at the end of a funky parking lot. It featured CDs and DVDs, new and used. The doors opened and we entered an expansive store of used books, literally hundreds of thousands of them, categorized alphabetically by type and author.

The aisles were huge, very, very long, with the books stacked on homemade wooden shelves. Marc was way down one aisle along the wall looking in a box on the floor marked with a big letter Y. There was my life’s work, all my CDs thrown in a box on the floor.

“Here you are!” said Marc.

As he sifted through the CDs, I saw the titles flying by and had flashes of memory of each one. There were about thirty or forty different albums in the box. I felt suddenly very sad. All of these people had given up their CDs! The original vinyl versions all sounded much better than the CDs, but they were still important to me. I had spent so long making each one, pouring myself into it, making it sound great. Now they were all in this little box, shadows of their former selves. If someone wanted to hear one of my old records, it was either on CD or online. This store was closing in on me. I found an old Clive Cussler book I must have missed back in the day, bought it for $2.50, and headed for the door. That place had become very depressing. I was overwhelmed with the reality of what had happened to my lifetime’s work.

Stopping at the checkout, I inquired, “Do you carry vinyl?”

“Oh no, there’s no demand for that,” said the young lady at the cash register.

Next was a health food store located next door. I was not really comfortable in there for some reason, so I waited outside at a little plastic table and chair, looking at the parking lot surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. Greg came out and offered me some coconut water. I was down. I was actually tanking.

“That’s what’s supposed to happen!” Mark said later. “We go on that trip to screw with our minds. That much sensory input is going to overwhelm the subconscious. It’s the best way to shock your system out of the Hawaii nirvana!”

—

I
am fascinated by the power of nature.

When the great Pacific earthquake hit in the spring of 2011 and the resulting tsunami devastated Japan, I was wondering how our beach house would make out when the waves reached the Hawaiian coast. Like everyone else, I watched on TV and the Internet. Our neighbor Greg had set up a webcam so we could watch it live. We couldn’t see much, but could tell that the water level fell and then rose a few feet at least. Actually, the water rose and went right under our house! It went around the back of our house first and then went right under, leaving some debris there and doing about $10,000 of damage to the property. It knocked a hole in a gate we had that opened up so we could walk out to the shore. That had to be repaired. Some appliances that were located under the house had to be replaced.

I wish I had been there to watch. I would have liked to stay on the property and see that. Of course, that would have been too dangerous, because no one was really sure how big of an event it was going to be. We were so lucky compared to our Japanese friends.

Katy Lowry, a beautiful young lady of about ninety who grew up in our house a long time ago, has some stories about the old days. She told us that the house was built with wood that was brought into the bay on little boats, dropped into the water, and floated ashore. She also pointed out to us that there used to be sand in front of the seawall where there is only water and lava now. The water has risen a remarkable amount since the 1920s, more than you would think when you compare to the statistics of how much the sea level has risen in the last one hundred years—quite a bit more. Katy also told us that when other tidal waves have come in the past, fish and eels have been found on the lawn behind our house.

We should invite Katy down for dinner sometime. (Pegi says she brings her own food in a Tupperware container.) There are more stories I would love to hear. We could have a great dinner and screen all of the old movies of the area that we have collected that show the old ways and original buildings, how everyone used to dress, the old fishing traditions, dirt roads, and overgrown areas. Time passes, and these events are a way to keep track, to keep the history moving. The older I get, the more important things like that are to me. We are living right on the edge. They would never let us build here now with the regulations that are in place. I would love to stand on the upper deck of the house and watch a tsunami happen sometime, but I am sure the authorities would insist on our leaving and going to a safe area.

—

T
ime, the great healer, also brings the future. No one knows what is going to happen, so it is scary and exciting. That is why every day is so valuable and every minute so precious. On-the-spot decisions on what to do next are abundant. Life is unpredictable. My neighbor Greg called to see if I wanted to fly to Maui with him this morning, and I said that I think I will stay because I am writing. Poncho is coming by at eleven for a visit. It takes Poncho a lot of preparation to leave his garden. He is a bit of a recluse. I don’t want to miss that visit. The flight to Maui is appealing, though. It’s just a short one. I have made my decision, but it is lingering, and I’ve gone over it a few times. Basically I don’t want to leave this spot. I am here and grounded. That would change big-time if I were to fly to Maui.

Ben Young is out on the deck with his team, having breakfast through his tube. I wonder how that feels. He seems to be content with it, although I am having some trouble reconciling the fact that Ben does not get all the big tastes anymore. He used to love Milanos and milk after every evening dinner. It was a tradition. Sometimes we still give him a tiny taste, just for old times’ sake. He is so accepting. It’s a marvel. He is the most accepting human being I have ever met, and he is very happy. Not all the time, mind you; he has a flair for impatience if he is going somewhere and there is a delay. He just yells! You know he is pissed. There is no stopping him. More power to you, Ben Young!

We had to stop feeding Ben Young by mouth because his lungs have become compromised by all of the aspirating he does. It’s a complex thing, eating. The body does a lot of work to protect itself and keep food out of the lungs. Ben’s body is not working like a normal body does. Ben and Dustin and Uncle Tony are out on the deck listening to tunes on the computer and grooving. Ben’s next support team is incoming for a shift. Uncle Marian and Ben Bourdon arrive in Hawaii today from the mainland, and the switch takes place around twelve-thirty. Time marches on. Because of this support, Ben has a very full life and keeps moving around, doing things, seeing people, and going to events. I reflect on this. Life is good.