As an unexpected excursion into vocoder-enhanced electronica from a folk-rock star, Neil Young’s Trans is confusing. Mashed together with a few songs from a tropical-themed project recorded months prior in Hawaii, though, it becomes absolutely confounding: The two distinct projects have no business appearing on the same release. “Little Thing Called Love” (no connection to Queen), is a pleasant-enough bit of country-pop ear candy, but its placement at the start of the record suggests a frustrating lack of confidence in the Trans material—as if listeners might need to ease into the robotic clicks and clacks with something a little more comfortable. Trans remains a fascinating record decades later, but its opening cut drives home the communication-breakdown theme only too well. [Zach Schonfeld]
