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Rating: Criticism can sometimes be profoundly ungenerous, if not downright cruel, especially towards the most generous of artists, those who see musical adventure as a 360-degree giving to the ears of the world. It happens, then, that people forget how behind the "music man" there is always a human being with all of their personal vulnerability; and, even more absurd and reprehensible, they forget how this painful burden is often the lifeblood of works that are too quickly relegated to oblivion.
This seems to be what happens to Van Morrison at the dawn of 1974, at the peak of what had been his golden five years (from the glory of "Astral Weeks" onwards). It's almost as if the Van on the cover of "Veedon Fleece" seems like a different man. His melancholic gaze, immersed "into the mystic", is still his, but the vaguely "Pet Sounds" scenario clearly speaks of a desire for home and introspection. The story with Janet, not long ago celebrated in the joyful and proud singing of "You're My Woman" (from the remarkable "Tupelo Honey", 1971), is now sadly archived. An abyss opens that will lead Van to a profound rethinking (not only artistically), interrupted in part by the superb, unexpected second youth of "Into The Music" (1979) and resumed with different tones and modes in the 'Irish' phase of the '80s. Critically maligned, if not outright dismissed, at its release, "Veedon Fleece" pays the price for the challenging label it carries: that of a watershed album between two different artistic lives of Van Morrison.
Difficult, slow, and introspective, at times grumpy (the neurotic guitar of "Bulbs", the only concession to a pop vein absent since "Jackie Wilson Said"), it is a work that wrongly received a cold and dismissive reception. Yet, for those who approach it without distrust, it can truly become something like a sincere friend; one of those companions that doesn't abandon you in the heart of a weary autumn evening. Given that we are light-years away - not in terms of quality but in thematic setting - from the frenzied poetic breath of a "Madame George" as well as from the robust adrenaline shocks of gems like "Glad Tidings", "Domino", "Wild Night" - it can well be said that the poignant lament of "Fairplay" is an unforgettable opening. And unforgettable are the "louisarmstrongian" trills closing the dark elegy of "Cul De Sac", the heartfelt plea for presence in "Come Here My Love", the conciliatory and protective melody of "Comfort You".
I challenge anyone, then, to find in our man's vast discography something that comes close to the soulful vocal modulations of "Who Was That Masked Man" or the anarchic cry of nostalgia of that dive to the heart that is "Linden Arden Stole The Highlights". Certainly, someone will be left counting the minutes of "You Don't Pull No Punches", longing for the lively 'dancing' energy of "Caravan" or the entrancing piano of "Saint Dominic's Preview", but the ground on which we tread is different and ultimately, it matters little: the friend speaking to us is the same one who has accompanied and continues to accompany us through the twists and turns of an unparalleled artistic-existential experience, and he deserves unconditional listening.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 Linden Arden Stole the Highlights (02:42)
Linden Arden stole the highlights --
With one hand tied behind his back --
Loved the morning sun, and whiskey
Ran like water in his veins
Loved to go to church on Sunday
Even though he was a drinking man
When the boys came to San Francisco
They were looking for his life
But he found out where they were drinking
Met them face to face outside
Cleaved their heads off with a hatchet
Lord, he was a drinkin' man
And when somebody tried to get above him
He just took the law into his own hands
Linden Arden stole the highlights
And they put his fingers through the glass
He had heard all those stories many, many times before
And he did not know nor care to ask
And he loved the little children like they were his very own
You say, Someday it may get lonely
Now he's livin', livin' with a gun
06 Bulbs (04:21)
I'm kicking off from centre field
A question of being down for the game
The one shot deal don't matter
And the other one's the same
Oh! my friend I see you
Want you to come through (alright)
And she's standing in the shadows
Where the street lights all turn blue
She leaving for an american (uhuh)
Suitcase in her hand
I said her brothers and her sisters
Are all on atlantic sand
She's screaming through the alley way
I hear the lonely cry, why can't you?
And her batteries are corroded
And her hundred watt bulb just blew
Lallallal.. alright...huhuhhuh
She used to hang out at miss lucy's
Every weekend they would get loose
And it was a straight clear case of
Having taken in too much juice
It was outside, and it was outside
Just the nature of the person
Now all you got to remember
After all, it's just show biz
Lallalal...huhuh...lallal
We're just screaming through the alley way
I hear her lonely cry, ah why can't you?
And she's standing in the shadows
Canal street lights all turn blue
And she's standing in the shadows
Where the street lights all turn blue
And she's standing in the shadows
Down where the street lights all turn blue
Hey, hey, yeah
08 Comfort You (04:28)
I wanna comfort you
I wanna comfort you
I wanna comfort you
Just let your tears run wild
Like when you were a child
I'll do what I can do
I wanna comfort you
You put the weight on me
You put the weight on me
You put the weight on me
When it gets too much for me
When it gets too much, much too much for me
I'll do the same thing that you do
And I'll put the weight on you
Huh
I'll put the weight on you
I'll put the weight on you
And I'll do the same thing that you do
I'll put the weight on you
I wanna comfort you
I wanna comfort you
And I wanna comfort you
Just let your tears run wild
Like when you were a child
I'll do what I can do
I just wanna comfort you
10 Country Fair (05:43)
We stood and watched the river flow
We were too young to really know
In the country fair
Oh, in the country fair
We laid out in the long green grass
And never thought that it would pass
In the country fair
In the country fair
On an old, on an old open day
On an old rainshine open day
In the country fair
In the cool night air
In sweet summer time
We counted pebbles in the sand
Sand like time slippin' through our hand
In the country fair
In the country fair
On an old, on an old open day
On an old raintrack open day
In the country fair
In the cool night air
In sweet summer time
Hmmm mmmm
On an old open day
On an old
Pinecone open day
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