If you thought that Neil Young was turning into a cranky old coot, his new album, "Greendale," is proof that he already is one. There are many who think he was cranky as far back as 1969, when he shot his baby down by the river. And in one of his two (count 'em!) hit singles, he identifies fully with an "Old Man" ("I'm a lot like you"). Young embodies the paradox of the hippie misanthrope better than any singer-songwriter: No matter how much he yearns for love and peace, resentment and paranoia are always standing in the wings to bring him down.

Young has never been shy about expressing his politics, but since 1980 those politics have become increasingly woolly. People who applauded the anti-imperialism of "Cortez the Killer" scratched their heads at the barely concealed Reaganism of "Hawks and Doves." He's also a paradox in other ways. Though he sometimes gives the impression of being a Luddite (he only recently allowed three of his late '70s and early '80s records to be released on CD, a format he still doesn't like) he once made a techno album, and seems fairly comfortable with the Internet.

Though "Greendale" is mostly allegorical, its social idealism is crystal clear. Like Grandpa Green, the closest thing to a protagonist in the story, Young wants to sit on his front porch and rail about the world. Crankiness can be liberating, but it doesn't demand logic. "How can all these people afford so many things," Grandpa complains. "When I was young, people wore what they had on." In any case, Grandpa isn't a rock star. Young says the album came out of his contempt for the policies of the present Bush administration. His targets are monoliths. The most obvious object of contempt is the media, but his anger has room for all the usual '60s nemeses, except maybe the military, whose role in the story is neutral (many of the characters served).