Top 10 Van Albums: #5, No Guru, No Method, No Teacher

Nostalgia has long engulfed Van Morrison's songwriting, but it finally took center stage in 1986 with No Guru, No Method, No Teacher. There had been bits and pieces of wistful nostalgia scattered throughout his catalogue, such as "Cry For Home" from Inarticulate Speech of the Heart and "Celtic Ray" from Beautiful Vision, but never before had it been so imminently present than on this offering. From beginning to end, No Guru finds Van yearning to "go back" to a time when life was less complicated, less painful. The album is tinged with an optimistic hope that indeed, inner peace can be satiated if only we can find a means to transport ourselves back to a happier yesteryear.

From the very first chords of "Got to Go Back," it becomes clear that this will be another mood album, along the lines of Veedon Fleece and Beautiful Vision. The sound is jazzy, but not entirely so; there are hints of blues and even classical influences throughout. "Got to Go Back," as one might imagine, enforces an overwhelming nostalgia from the get-go. Van is desparately clinging to his childhood, an uncomplicated time of joy and simplicity. Though it is clear that Van is in an undesirable state at the beginning of the song, the listener is eventually left convinced that there is hope for him yet. The piano and horns combine for a sombre feel, yet they reach pleasant climaxes during the choruses of "got to go back for the healing/go on with the dreaming." Perhaps it is here that we derive an overwhelming sense of hope.

"Oh the Warm Feeling" and "Foreign Window" seem like continuations of the album's opener, as the stress on nostalgia runs in the same vein throughout. Whereas "Oh the Warm Feeling" is a pleasant yet forgettable reminiscence of a former relationship, "Foreign Window" is a poignant, monumental anthem. One gets the sense that Morrison is recounting the same exact relationship in each song throughout the album, exploring different aspects in each separate tale. Few artists could write about the same subject matter in ten songs throughout an album, and all the while manage to keep the proceedings fresh and meaningful; No Guru is an example of how to do it right.

Moving on, "A Town Called Paradise" is an upbeat, careless tune in which Van praises his lover, saying "all that matters is my relationship with you." Although the rest of his life may be collapsing all around him, this love that he is enamored with may provide him a saving grace. He is trying to keep one foot planted in reality, and one foot in this fantastical relationship. It's a joyous ballad, and a refresher from the slower tempo of the first few songs.

"In the Garden," the focal point of the album, sees Van praising his lover much like any man would praise God. The imagery is very biblical (in fact, the title recalls an old gospel standard), and the words a very poetic. The songwriting is, in fact, stunning, and is among Van's very best. Furthermore, the music compliments the lyrics nicely, serving as a delicate and sweeping backdrop to the enchanting poetry.

"Tir Na Nog" continues Van's adoration of his love; he fondly recalls days spent in the sweeping countryside of Ireland, "with fire in our hearts." The song is deeper, though, than it would seem upon first glance. Van sings that he and his love have "been together before/in a different incarnation/and we loved each other then as well." This connection, though seemingly ordinary when first portrayed in "Foreign Window" and "A Town Called Paradise," has taken on another dimension; Van is heretofore suggesting that the cycle of love stretches beyond worldly limits and, indeed, past this current lifetime. Aside from the lyrical genius of the song, the orchestral arrangements tightly adhere to the words; when Van sings, "we made a big connection," the violins saw their way into oblivion, on the brink of explosion, trying to emulate the sound of a truly big connection. "Tir Na Nog," coupled with "In the Garden," are worth the price of the album alone.

Luckily for us, the gems keep coming. "Here Comes the Knight," a clever play-on-words from Van's 1960's hit with Them, is a majestic song, and deduces that "this love will surely last forever/this love will surely last always." However, we see the first signs that perhaps the affair is in peril: "[the horsemen in the valley] don't want this love to last/there's a battle for the throne/and it's raging down in your soul." Will this love actually last forever, or is there merit in Van's doubts?

There answer comes in the form of the next track, "Thanks for the Information," in which Van reveals a growing discontent. He wails, "it's only a combat zone/thanks for the memory/I'll just have to carry on on my own," indicating that the relationship is, in fact, on the outs. We've come full-circle from "In the Garden," when Van observes a God-like vision in his mate. "One Irish Rover" and "Ivory Tower" reveal the aftermath of a wrecked relationship, as Van begins to pick up the pieces that remain. The haunting words of "tell me the story/now that it's over/wrap it in glory/for one Irish rover," confirm what "Thanks for the Information" leads us to suspect: it's over.

No Guru, No Method, No Teacher, in the tradition of Van's masterpiece Astral Weeks, paints the complete picutre of a relationship: the euphoria, the downfall, and the end. Whereas Astral Weeks shows us a less cynical outlook on the whole ordeal, No Guru shows the polarity of the love affair, from elation to despair, all in a few short minutes. What's more is that the album has a classic, timeless feel to it, and thus can pertain just as well to today's audience as it did at the time of its release in 1986. No Guru is a concept album, and so it naturally takes time for the listener to ease into its mood. However, once the final notes of "Ivory Tower" ring out, one feels compelled to start back at the beginning, in a cyclical fasion that is not unlike the love that Van describes throughout the album.