In the pantheon of rock music, there are songs that transcend their own sonic boundaries and become artifacts of cultural significance. Neil Young’s “For the Turnstiles,” a track from his hauntingly introspective 1974 album On the Beach, is one such song.
The album, which was somewhat overlooked upon release, has grown in stature over the years, with “For the Turnstiles” standing out as a particularly enigmatic and compelling piece. It is a song that, like much of Young’s work, intertwines personal expression with broader societal commentary, leaving a lasting impression on its listeners.
Historical Context and Background
To truly grasp the essence of “For the Turnstiles,” one must first understand the context in which it was created. The early 1970s were a tumultuous time both for Neil Young as an artist and for the world at large.
The optimism of the ’60s had faded, and in its place was an era marked by disillusionment. The Vietnam War was drawing to a bloody close, Richard Nixon’s presidency was crumbling under the weight of the Watergate scandal, and the music industry was becoming increasingly commercialized.
Amidst this backdrop, Neil Young, fresh from the success of Harvest, was grappling with the pitfalls of fame and the death of close friends, like Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten. This period of his career is often referred to as the “Ditch Trilogy,” with On the Beach being the middle installment, sandwiched between Time Fades Away and Tonight’s the Night. These albums showcase Young’s more raw and unfiltered side, with “For the Turnstiles” being a quintessential example.
Lyrics and Meaning
The song begins with the hauntingly stark banjo plucks, courtesy of Young himself, and doleful vocals, setting the stage for a journey through a landscape of metaphor and allegory. The first verse paints a vivid picture:
All the sailors
with their seasick mamas
Hear the sirens on the shore
Here, Young seems to be alluding to the allure of success and the metaphorical “sirens” that tempt artists away from their authentic selves toward a treacherous, commercialized shore. The “seasick mamas” might be interpreted as the disoriented public or perhaps the nurturing aspect of creativity that’s been made ill by the turbulent waters of fame and industry.
Singing songs
for pimps with tailors
Who charge ten dollars at the door
Young continues to weave his critique of the music industry, depicting a scene where art is commodified and sold by “pimps” – perhaps the record executives or managers. The “tailors” could symbolize the forces that shape and alter the artist’s image to fit commercial expectations.
The chorus is where the title finds its place:
You can really learn a lot that way
It will change you in the middle of the day
Though your confidence may be shattered
It doesn’t matter
These words resonate as both a personal reflection and a universal truth. The “turnstiles” could be interpreted as points of transition, where one’s beliefs or sense of self are altered. Young suggests that these metamorphoses, though potentially jarring, are essential parts of life and growth.
The second verse expands upon these themes:
All the great explorers
Are now in granite laid
Under white sheets for the great unveiling
At the big parade
Here, Young may be mourning the loss of authentic artistry (“great explorers”) that has been subdued or sidelined (“in granite laid”) by society’s shift towards ostentation and superficiality (“the great unveiling at the big parade”).
The imagery evokes a sense of finality, as if the pioneers of true creativity have been buried under the weight of commercial expectations. The “big parade” could symbolize the spectacle of fame and consumerism, where genuine innovation is overshadowed by the pomp and show of market-driven art. It’s a somber reflection on how the pursuit of profit and spectacle often eclipses the deeper, more meaningful aspects of artistic expression.
Impact and Musicality
“For the Turnstiles” is not merely a critique of the music industry; it is a microcosm of Neil Young’s broader artistic ethos—a fearless pursuit of authenticity, even in the face of alienation. The song’s impact lies in its rawness, both lyrically and musically.
The sparse instrumentation—centered on Young’s banjo and Ben Keith’s dobro—creates an eerie, stripped-down soundscape that perfectly complements the song’s introspective and critical themes. This minimalistic approach underscores the vulnerability and honesty in Young’s delivery, drawing listeners into his world with an almost hypnotic pull.
The banjo, a relatively unusual choice for rock music at the time, gives the song a folk-like quality, grounding it in a tradition of storytelling while simultaneously imbuing it with an edge of experimentation. The interplay between the banjo and dobro weaves a hauntingly beautiful melody, creating a tension that mirrors the conflict between creativity and commercialism expressed in the lyrics.
Young’s vocal performance is equally compelling. His distinctive, slightly wavering voice carries a sense of fragility and weariness, yet it resonates with undeniable conviction. This combination of vulnerability and resolve amplifies the song’s emotional impact, making it resonate on a deeply personal level with listeners.
Concluding Remarks
“For the Turnstiles” is a masterclass in using simplicity to convey complexity. Its sparse arrangement, evocative lyrics, and profound themes encapsulate Neil Young’s ability to balance personal introspection with societal critique. The song transcends its immediate context, addressing timeless concerns about authenticity, creativity, and the corrosive effects of commodification.
As part of On the Beach, it contributes to the album’s overarching exploration of disillusionment and resilience, cementing its place as a standout track in Young’s discography. Its enigmatic nature invites repeated listens, each revealing new layers of meaning and insight. More than a song, “For the Turnstiles” is a reminder of the transformative power of art and the enduring importance of staying true to one’s vision, even when navigating life’s inevitable turnstiles.