Neil Young performed John Lennon’s “Imagine” on the tribute thing tonight. I’m sort of awestruck by him, and by Paul Simon’s performance. I didn’t even commit suicide when Celine Dion sang “God Bless America.” I’m slipping; normally that would have induced vomiting. The whole affair was quite restrained; nobody grandstanded too much with the possible exception of Paul Schaefer, as usual. I never watch this sort of thing. Why did I watch it?
I can’t explain why I sat there like a drone throughout the thing, only nearly throwing a brick through the TV once when Tom Petty did “Won’t Back Down,” and again when Limp whatever re-wrote a Pink Floyd tune, clearly reading the lyrics off a sheet in front of them. Funny, I was thinking about Pink Floyd earlier, listening to “Careful with that Axe Eugene.” People are having a hard time being careful these days; it was sort of scary to see Ali jitter through saying that “if he had a chance he’d do something about it.” There’s a lot of “champs” out there right now, biting on their fists, looking for something to hit. Me, I’d rather imagine— but that’s pretty hard these days.
Neil noted this in his one minor alteration to Lennon’s lyrics. Instead of singing “Imagine no posessions / I wonder if you can” he sang “I wonder if I can.” That’s the sort of honesty that I have come to expect from Neil.
