Graham Nash - This Path Tonight (LP)

Graham Nash has always written like someone keeping careful notes on his own heart, and This Path Tonight finds him doing that with a clarity that feels earned. Released in April 2016, it arrived after a long quiet stretch for Nash as a solo artist, his first proper studio set since 2002’s Songs for Survivors. The gap matters, because this album sounds like someone who has lived a lot in the interim and decided to tell the truth about it. The songs were written with guitarist and producer Shane Fontayne, a collaborator who clearly knew how to frame Nash’s voice and stories without crowding them. The arrangements are lean, mostly acoustic guitars, gentle rhythm, and harmonies used like lantern light rather than stadium fireworks.

People sometimes forget how sturdy Nash’s writing is because his voice still carries that Hollies brightness. On the title track he leans into uncertainty with surprising calm, not the bravado of youth, but the steadiness of someone who knows every decision has a cost. Myself at Last plays like a deep breath after a hard season, the melody uncluttered, the lyric plainspoken and all the more affecting for it. Golden Days looks back without getting stuck there. It tips its hat to the era that made him famous, yet keeps its feet in the present, which is a tricky balance to pull off and a big part of why this record lands.

Fontayne’s touch is felt song to song. He co-wrote everything, and you can hear the give and take in the dynamics, where small shifts matter. Guitars sit close to Nash’s vocal, drums are brushed rather than slammed, and the whole thing trusts space and tone. Target tightens the screws a little, proof that Nash can still flash his activist streak without turning the song into a sermon. Then Encore wraps the album the way a great closing track should, short and contemplative, like a final bow after the lights are already half up.

As a listen, This Path Tonight rewards the simple act of sitting with it. That is where the vinyl cut shines. The intimacy really blooms on turntables, the air around the guitar strings, the little sighs in Nash’s delivery, the way harmonies lift and then step back. If you collect Graham Nash vinyl, this one fits neatly next to Songs for Beginners and Wild Tales. Not because it copies them, but because it shares their unguarded spirit. There is a lived-in warmth here that makes the format feel essential rather than nostalgic. If you are on the hunt to buy Graham Nash records online, seek out This Path Tonight vinyl, and if you’re crate-digging in a Melbourne record store or browsing vinyl records Australia wide, this late-era set is the one that sneaks up on you and stays.

The context around it matters too. Nash was in his mid seventies when he made this, and he had just come through major personal change. He spoke openly in interviews about reevaluating his life, which gives the album its backbone. That honesty resonated with listeners and critics, who heard not just a veteran checking in, but a writer reconnecting with why he started. There is a quiet courage in letting the songs be this unadorned.

What I love most is how human it feels. No grand gestures, no chase for radio. Just a songwriter who knows his own strengths, paired with a producer who understands how to capture a performance without sanding off the edges. You hear the years in Nash’s voice, yet the phrasing remains nimble. The choruses do not shout, they settle. And when a line lands, it does so with the ease of a thought you have had a dozen times but never said out loud.

Fans who come to This Path Tonight hoping for a museum piece will be surprised. It is a forward-looking record, even when it glances back. It is also a reminder that Graham Nash albums on vinyl are not just souvenirs from another era. They are living rooms you can still walk into, sit down in, and feel the conversation continue. If that is what you want from a record, this one is an easy recommendation.