Concert Report: Neil Young and The Chrome Hearts - Chicago, Milwaukee and the One That Got Away

 Neil Young Village Chicago, August 27, 2025photos by John Kwit(Click photo to enlarge) 

Here is a special report from the intrepid and oh so dependable John Kwit, our Thrasher's Wheat Intergalactic Music Correspondent via Chicago. Or, as John likes to put it: "[Normally] Mild Mannered Reporter for a Daily Metropolitan Newspaper"

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Chicago, Milwaukee and the One That Got Away

As a native Chicagoan, I was blessed to see Neil Young at two recent shows. 

Beating another well-known individual to the punch, Neil led an armed invasion of Chicago on August 27, “armed” that is, with his newly reunited Gretsch guitar from his days in his earliest-led band, The Squires, and his trusty Old Black Les Paul. It was all peace and love in the village. No arrests were made, no sandwiches were thrown and even the Chicago Stockyard hot dogs were locally sourced.

 

Taking in the Chicago show from the back of the house was fine, but nothing beats pit seating. Capturing a picture of Neil from out in the sticks just doesn’t cut it.

 

 Actually, I was happy to be further back because, Truth Be Known, my mood was soured early-on by the antics of opening act Reverend Billy. 

Call me an old prude, but I didn’t pay to see a striptease show. When the Reverend dropped his drawers to fully moon the audience for what seemed like an eternity I was wondering if I had wandered into an AC/DC show featuring knicker(less)-wearing Angus Young.

Reverend Billy

Having his bare derriere on the jumbotron didn’t help. Would it have been more appropriate if the Reverend popped on stage mid-song in Neil’s set, perhaps during Harvest Moon? I get it, half the population of the U.S. is mad at one individual in particular, and the other half of the population in general. But really, nudity at a Neil Young show? Reverend Billy’s songs were fine, and his backing band members were top notch. But what happened to a modicum of decorum, everyone getting along, Peace and Love? A different era I suppose. 

Now that half of the audience here is riled up, let’s get to heart of the matter, Neil’s show. In a word, it was AWESOME. 

I was walking to the same venue slightly over a year ago when word came down that the show was cancelled, so to finally see him return was a treat. You can read about the detailed setlist elsewhere. 

I liked his between song banter, especially his story on reacquiring his Squires Gretsch, and the fact that he pulled songs from so many eras & albums, including Greendale, CSNY’s Looking Forward and Silver Eagle off his new album Talking to the Trees. 

And I can’t end things without mentioning his newest song that he debuted in Chicago, Big Crime. It was catchy, got the audience’s attention, prompted lots of fist-raising and applause galore. Not the most complex song lyric-wise, but he made his point loud and clear. Since the song has debuted it has already been written about by Neil in his NYA Times Contrarian “paper” and has been put out on YouTube by Neil as a single. 

Neil consults with Mark on stage audio

 I cannot help but think about the quick turnaround that occurred back in May 1971 when Neil’s Ohio was recorded by CSNY, Johny Barbata and Calvin Fuzzy Samuel and released in record time soon after the tragedy at Kent State. After a late night el ride home, it was time for me to make plans for the next show two nights later in Milwaukee.

Spooner

 

Anthony

 

Micah & Corey

Before I go above the Cheddar Curtain to discuss the Milwaukee show I’d like to share a bit of personal info. I’ve been fan of all things CSNY since 1982. I’ve seen Neil and all members of that family tree in concert, movie debuts and book signings as many times as possible whenever they were within earshot of Chicago. I also had this thing with (courteously) obtaining autographs. And posters (sometimes resorting to outright thievery off of walls or poles). And magazines. And collecting live concerts. For the latter It was so much easier when things were only available on vinyl. The number of titles were limited and you could keep track of things by consulting hard print titles like Hot Wacks, Live Music Review or Ice Magazine. Who would have guessed that Neil would beat the bootleggers at their own game 5 decades on by sharing/selling an amazing treasure trove of material via NYA and his The Greedy Hand store?

 

I’ve been lugging around two items of considerable historical value (for me anyway) for over a decade in the hopes that Neil would sign them. A Decade is a long time and a great album, but I digress. So I heard from a friend, who had heard from a friend of a friend, that Neil was lodging here ( _______) before his Milwaukee show. So I went here (__________). Sure enough, his tour buses were there. I sat down on a bench a stone’s throw away and started to read. And read. And read. I was shocked to look up from my reading to see Neil heading straight toward me with a dog on a leash in each hand. I’m guessing his dogs were captivated by me sitting alone on the bench. Maybe it was the dog treats I had in my pocket. In any event, he came over with the dogs, and we chatted. It seemed like it was for an hour but in reality it was only a minute. Pleasantries were exchanged, tongue-tied words were uttered by me, and in the end, after taking a pass on signing an autograph, I told Neil I’d see him from the pit in a few hours. How many people can say they had the honor of chatting with Neil and petting his 2 dogs before the show? Yet another of life’s blessings thrown my way.

I met a bunch of nice folks waiting many hours in line before showtime. The Milwaukee Rail Club sounds like an appropriate title. Again, on a personal note, one of those Rail Club members had a medical issue arise during Neil’s last song so I’m hoping you are ok and that whatever ailed you was quickly diagnosed and taken care of.

Now about that show. 

If the Chicago show was AWESOME, the Milwaukee show was MIND BLOWING. I’m struggling to put into words just how good it was. The setlist was slightly changed from the previous day. But I’m so glad he kept my personal favorites from Greendale (Be the Rain and Sun Green) two great rocking numbers. He expressed his feelings of loss and missing David Crosby prior to singing Looking Forward. The violent mayhem of Like a Hurricane and what I consider the penultimate song in his canon: Cowgirl in the Sand were unsurpassed. The latter song was like shaking a bottle of nitroglycerin. From the crack of the drums and opening chord it was a transcendental experience. I wish it would have lasted an hour. Back in my youth when running 26.2 mile marathons was my thing, I used to have a pre-race ritual where I would repeatedly blast Cowgirl in the Sand off of the Friends and Relatives CD in order to get my adrenaline in hyper-overdrive. That song never fails to deliver the goods for me, especially the opening passages prior to the vocals kicking in.

One last concert highlight: Harvest Moon. Remember the tire changing scene from the movie A Christmas Story? The cherub-faced little boy goes out in the darkness to help and knocks the lug nuts out of his father’s hands and we watch as they all fly up in slow motion before being scattered in the snow. It was a Christmas miracle the father found them. So what does that have to do with anything? Well, here I was singing along to Neil’s Harvest Moon, standing in the front row of the pit with my Manassas (Stephen Stills’ band, not the city in Virginia) t-shirt and USDA hat on from earlier in my dog-petting day. The song ends and Neil takes his harmonica rack off, pulls out the harmonica, looks at me, bends down and tosses the harmonica right to me. Did he remember me from earlier in day? Did he feel a bit of remorse for not signing an autograph? God only knows. And Neil. 

Anyway about that harmonica: Well I’m convinced Neil’s crew must have lathered it up thick with linseed oil so that it would slide in and out of the rack just right. And that toss from Neil, I’m beginning to wonder if he was a flamethrowing baseball pitcher back in the day. Again, it was like that scene from A Christmas Story. The harmonica was flying right at me in slow motion, yet apparently traveling at 95 miles an hour at the same time. And who puts a spin on an object when tossing it? The harmonica was spinning wildly, rising, dipping, and simultaneously casting off linseed oil. Is there an end to this story? Yes. Another rail club member with very long arms was standing right next to me. Here comes the harmonica. The long arm fellow deflects the hallowed harmonica right before it would have been caught by yours truly. The hallowed harmonica hits my hand and also deflects off, landing with a thud on the ground between the pit barricade and the stage. I can see it sitting there for what seemed like an hour. I can see it sitting there even now as I write this. I contemplated jumping the barrier, then rethought what that would mean: a sit-down visit with security (or worse, a ride in a police car) and dismissal from the rest of the show and I’m a long way from Chicago and it’s already approaching my bedtime. So there it sat, motionless, unloved and ownerless on the ground, until finally a concert security guard came over and handed the harmonica to the man with very long arms. Am I sad? Am I bitter? Neither. This sort of thing has happened to me before. On the Greendale tour, a prop newspaper was hurled into the crowd during the show and, you guessed it, it deflected off of my hands. I’m convinced Neil recognized my Manassas shirt and USDA hat and maybe, just maybe, said, hey that autograph seeking kid might not have been too bad of a guy after all. Like Pittsburgh Steeler Mean Joe Green throwing his jersey to the kid in that soda commercial from long ago. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Only that d*mn kid caught the jersey. I’m blessed to have touched the linseed oil-soaked harmonica that was used by Neil Young and is now owned by that fellow with the very long arms.

Last words of advice: If Neil and the Chrome Hearts are playing anywhere near you see them now. Do not wait. And crank up Cowgirl in the Sand.

Thank you Neil, Micah, Corey, Anthony and Spooner. And thank you, Thrasher.

John Kwit

Mild Mannered Reporter for a Daily Metropolitan Newspaper

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