The rest of the band's members--especially the soft-spoken but intense Molina--are more forthcoming. Although most of the questions are never quite verbalized throughout the film, the most important insight revealed is that the enigmatic Crazy Horse "sound" is the culmination of nearly three decades of the four members' various liaisons. The individual interviews are like hearing brothers describe each other: There's never any clear delineation between the members of Crazy Horse. And their working relationship is either the most graphic example of codependency or the most explicit testament to rock band solidarity known to man. They all go on at length about the collective and how Crazy Horse wouldn't be possible without the elements that each member brings to the table. Young describes his bandmates as though they were disciples: Molina the quiet, insightful observer; Talbot the grounded backbone, and Sampedro the strength and energy. How, exactly, Young fits into the group is left to remain an unspoken mystery, but it is here that Jarmusch steps in and becomes crucial to the success of his film. By simply editing in concert footage, Jarmusch is able to make it quite clear that Neil Young is the catalyst that causes Crazy Horse to roar into its glory. It's not what he plays so much as how passionately he plays it. An awkward, uncomfortable bandleader off stage, he becomes the band's pilot light when the lights go down, and they use his energy to fuel their own.