1. Cortez the Killer (Zuma, 1975)
About 2 months ago [in 2020], I had this FB messenger exchange with a friend (the same one from entry #2):
Him: "Either I'm f*!#in' hammered, or Cortez is the greatest song ever recorded."
Me: "It can be two things!"
To me, this is Neil's greatest song, which in my book means it's indeed probably the greatest song ever recorded. Its sound is monumentally influential; its pacing and repeating chords have been replicated at some point or another by almost every rock band worth its salt that's been formed since 1975. (Neil did it himself on Scenery, entry #60.)
It begins with nearly three and a half minutes of creeping rhythms and mesmerizing guitar passages before we even get to the words. Neil's solos get more intense as the song goes on, and then everything fades out around the 7:30 mark. That was not by design. During the fateful recording, an electrical circuit blew and all power to the console was shut off. The remainder of the jamming and a final verse were lost. When informed of this by producer David Briggs, Neil said "I never liked that verse anyway" and decided to put the magical take on the album with the fadeout. The lost verse has never resurfaced -- but who knows what might turn up on Archives Vol. 2, which will be released before the end of the year and will cover the mid-70s. [Note: It didn't resurface there either.]
The lyrics are ambitious, convoluted and at times incredibly sad. One of many songs Neil has written about the atrocities committed against the Indians, this delves into the Spanish conquest of the New World. Neil has claimed he began the lyrics after sitting through a history class in high school. In any case, it should not be analyzed for historical accuracy. As Neil said to biographer Jimmy McCollough, "What the f**k am I doing writing about Aztecs in 'Cortez the Killer' like I was there, wandering around? 'Cause I only read about it in a few books. A lotta s**t I just made up because it came to me." And the final verse jumps to the present day, perhaps referencing the topic that dominated his lyrics in 1974 and 1975, his breakup with the mother of his first child:
And I know she's livin' there
And she loves me to this day
I still can't remember when
Or how I lost my way
&
The legend of this song is really cemented in concert, however. It is the template for many of Neil's wildest and most passionate explorations on guitar. The version from my first Neil show, 2/5/91 at the now-torn-down Philadelphia Civic Center, is, quite simply, the greatest live performance I have ever witnessed, despite the venue's awful sound system. Neil's final solo, after the "I still can't remember when/Or how I lost my way" passage, was an otherworldly outpouring of sonic emotion that was the mental equivalent of a knockout blow. (My reaction at the time was OH MY GOD!) I have never encountered anything like it, even on the other live versions of Cortez that I have seen and heard. When I joined a Neil discussion group after getting internet access, I was able to trade for a cassette recording (with poor sound quality) of the show that confirmed I was not delusional; that performance really happened the way I remembered it. I don't have access to the cassette anymore, so now it lives on in my memory. (If any of you ever happen to come across a recording of this show, let me know.)
In the years since 1991, if you count my friends' bands playing in bars, I have been to more than 1,000 rock concerts, and I suspect a lot of that was driven by wanting to recapture in some form the high that Cortez the Killer gave me on that fateful night. The version I saw at my last Neil show in 2015 with Promise of the Real (linked in the comments) came very close. My life would not be what it is if not for this song and the first show where I witnessed it.