“It’s better to burn out and to fade away.”

That lyric from Neil Young’s “Hey, Hey, My, My” closed the suicide note of grunge anti-hero Kurt Cobain nearly 12 years ago this week.

Cobain shot himself shortly after a prophetic appearance on MTV’s “Unplugged,” complete with funereal set.

Like Cobain’s “Unplugged” footage, “Neil Young: Heart of Gold” could have been another eerie foreshadowing.

The movie depicts a performance by a rock and roll icon who has stared hard at his own mortality from the moment he stood barefoot on Max Yasgur’s farm in Woodstock, N.Y., and who wants to make sure he gets to play at his own funeral.

“It’s better to burn than to fade away.” It’s Young’s turn to appreciate that line.

The movie is a musical documentary about the world premiere of Young’s album, “Prairie Wind,” in Nashville’s historic Ryman Auditorium.

At the time the movie was filmed, Young had faced a brain aneurysm, the death of his father after drawn-out dementia, his grown daughter’s departure into adulthood. Jonathan Demme’s film shows him gathering his loved ones - including a string section, three of the Memphis Horns and the Fisk University Jubilee singers - to dictate what could have been a farewell.

The message reverberating just below the surface is, emphatically, to burn hard and bright before burning out.

Produced simply and unobtrusively, it is polished enough to exist solely in the audio. But watching the film, the poignancy of this concert is never more heartbreaking than in the footage of Young’s wife, Pegi Young, who sings backup.

In a brief snippet of interview before the concert footage, Pegi Young says “Prairie Wind” was “his life flashing before his eyes.” To watch “Heart of Gold” is to have it flash before our eyes as well.

She hurts so hard we can’t help but hurt too. While her voice is lost in the chorus, she is absolutely fixated on her man, upstage of her, staring into the lights. Don’t for a second think she doesn’t recognize the metaphor inherent in that setup. When the credits roll, Young sits and plays on a deserted stage, illuminated by the light through stained glass windows at the back of the Ryman.

We’re reminded of what Emmylou Harris, who makes a cameo appearance singing backup and playing guitar, says in the beginning of the film: A skyscraper is about to be built next to the Ryman, blocking out all that light forever.

We can no more hold on to that colored light through the stained glass windows - or to Neil Young if his time is up -than we can hold onto a prairie wind.

Ashley O’Dell reviews movies that aren’t in the theater anymore.