Top 25 Van Songs: Numbers 25 and 24

#25. "Across the Bridge Where Angels Dwell"
Album: Beautiful Vision (1982)

The ninth song on the enchanting Beautiful Vision, "Across the Bridge Where Angels Dwell" is among the nicest sounding Van songs. The title bares resemblence to a lullaby, and the song itself does not abandon this illusion. The lyrics are not deep, but the surface of the words is dreamy, whistful, and beautiful. Van could be singing about a dream, although he could also be singing about heaven. Maybe he's singing about both. The music boasts all the same pleasant qualities as the lyrics; indeed, this is a very graceful song to listen to. It's quiet, airy, and slow, and thus makes for perfect tranquility listening, such as a backdrop to reading, or a bedtime companion. The synthesizers, guitar, and flute that are featured in the song are very representative of Van's early 80's musical experimentation.

In summary, what's not to love about a song that lulls its listener to "close your eyes in fields of wonder/close your eyes and dream"? This tune could appeal from anyone to an infant child to an elderly audience. It's not a song that people will ever immediately think of when asked to recall the music of Van Morrison; instead, it's a hidden treasure that one would be remiss to pass over. This is Van at his dreamy, ethereal best.

#24. "Summertime in England"
Album: Common One (1980)

The tapping, rasping snare drums that open "Summertime in England" are a fitting foreshadowing forwhat is to follow: a completely laid-back piece, but one that jumps from mood-to-mood in a manic fashion. The songwriting emphasizes repition, and Van's vocal performance hints that he may be in a far-off place in his mind. Whatever far-off place he's psychologically visiting, however, must be a warm and inviting locale, because his singing on "Summertime" is among the most rapturous and buoyant he's ever done. The musical accompaniment is appropriately and delicately subdued, and the overall feeling of the song exudes a bright, warm summer afternoon.

At fifteen minutes, one would expect "Summertime in England" to become tiring and monotonous, especially after repeated listenings. With the changing tempos, though, Van keeps things fresh, and his various vocal devices (such as plain speak, whispering, and shouting) literally keep the listener guessing at what Van could possibly try next. The images that he culls, such as ether, churchs, and lightheadedness, add a mystical nature to the song. Furthermore, by dropping dozens of names, such as Wordsworth, Blake, and Eliot, essentially make this a history lesson in English literature.

While it is not one of Van's most accessible songs, "Summertime in England" provides for compelling, enjoyable listening. The singing is passionate, and the instrumentation is crisp. This is one of the few songs in music history that lasts more than fifteen minutes, and actually proves to be continually captivating.

"When You Hear, Hear the Call"

I'll be headed out of town tomorrow morning on a family vacation, and when I return Sunday evening, I will embark on a Top 25 songs countdown, similar to what I did with the albums countdown. I'll review the songs in pairs, until I reach number one, which will be rewarded with its own entry. Enjoy the weekend, and for everyone attending the East Mosely shows: I hope Van delivers the goods for y'all.

Additionally, please enjoy the following live tracks from the From Dublin Up to Sandy Row bootleg (Dublin, 1995):

Saint Dominic's Preview

In the Garden

Wonderful Remark

Into the Music: The Confessions of a Van Fan

It was on an oppressively dismal winter afternoon in 1992 that, at the age of seven, I first stumbled upon the music of Van Morrison. My father, the overseer of a family-owned construction company, had picked me up from school in his rusty, royal blue pickup truck, and was delivering me to a friend's house to play. It was a routine car ride, filled with idol conversation about the day's events. At once, however, I became agog by the sounds seeping from our FM radio station: an odd, ticktocking percussion, followed by a booming flush of pipes and horns. The sound was distinctly Irish, and the melody was infectious and welcoming, especially in the ears of a seven year old. Such exalting music, the likes of which I had never before heard, imbued the bleak midwinter day with a rare dose of nimble and vibrant joy. Little did I know that, upon this chance encounter with "I'll Tell Me Ma," my life would be forever changed.

Seven years later, on Christmas Eve of 1999, the celtic jig reared its head again. It was an uncharacteristically snowy holiday season in Virginia, and my evening was spent at a family Christmas party, held annually at my grandfather's sequestered country home. As I mingled with aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, I sensed a familiar strain come waltzing from a cassette player in the nearby dining room. My initial observation was that the giddyness of the tune seemed eminently planned for this occasion: the warm radiance of the music blended seamlessly with the flickering glow of the fireplace. The pattering of the drums fused with the unflagging crackling of the smoldering logs, and provided a jovial backdrop to the spatterings of drunken conversation throughout the house.

It took me a moment to recognize what I was hearing, but when a stout and vigorous male voice began belting out the words, "I'll tell me ma/when I get home/the girls won't leave the boys alone," I made a sudden, nostalgic association with what seemed like my appallingly distant childhood. This song, though simple in words and structure, had once again exhilarated me, and I began frantically combing the house in search of someone who could identify the musician responsible for my hypnotic transfixture. My father's youngest brother was the only one among the bunch who could settle my inquisiton. His answer: why, of course, Van Morrison.

The following day was Christmas, and so all of the record stores around town were closed in observance of the holiday. I did, however, brave the "Day-After-Christmas" sales with my mother, and after visiting a handful of shops, I finally got my hands on Van's Irish Heartbeat album. It didn't end there, though, as I also snatched up copies of Moondance, Astral Weeks, and Saint Dominic's Preview, thus exhausting my Christmas gift money, and aggrivating my mother with such outrageous frivolity.

On that very day, a lifelong bond was formed between the soul of Johnny Archer, and the music of Van Morrison.

My two-time brush with "I'll Tell Me Ma" proved only a very brief beginning to my boundless reconnaissance mission into the vast universe of Van. Although it has become routine and distastefully cliché to portray a musical encounter as a life-altering event, I fervently believe that every time I give Van a spin on my playlist, I am temporarily transposed into a more savory time and place. It nevertheless seems strange, even in my own mind, that a reclusive Irish curmudgeon could pluck at and effectively manipulate my own spirit and soul. However, my subsequent romps amidst Van's wide-reaching reprertoire have disclosed many of the magical marks that have been branded in my psyche, and thus helping to explain why it is that I keep coming back for more.

For instance, I found that Astral Weeks is a consummate companion to the warm, windswept hillside of a sunny, summer afternoon.

I found that "In the Garden" is the greatest love song ever written, and that it can capture the ecstacy and agony of an infatuated affection better than any work of art ever has, or ever will.

I found that Van can vocally conjure a brooding thunderstorm and a soft spring zephyr, in consecutive breaths (see: "Ancient Highway" and "In the Afternoon" on Days Like This).

I found that "For Mr. Thomas" never fails to make me laugh.

I found that "In the Midnight" never fails to make me cry.

I found that I've never much cared to analyze the character of Madame George; in fact, all I care to do is listen to the whimsical arrangement of the song as it mingles beautifully with Van's breathtaking vocals.

I found that "Talk is Cheap" is the best therapy for a smoldering temper.

I found that Beautiful Vision is the best therapy for a smoldering hangover.

I found that Van performs Bob Dylan songs better than Bob Dylan performs Bob Dylan songs (see: "Just Like a Woman").

I found that "Summertime in England" is a great song to get high to, and that Avalon Sunset is a great substitute for attending church.

I found that Tupelo Honey works best as the soundtrack to an evening ride in the rolling countryside with your beloved. Meanwhile, I found that its title track is the best song to have playing if you're trying to get lucky with your beloved.

I found that "Celtic New Year" has the aura of a misty and foggy Irish gloaming.

I found that no song is more apt for confronting the death of someone you love than "And the Healing Has Begun."

I found that "Cry For Home" should be the last song I hear before I die.

And I found that Van Morrison can cater to my every mood, my every feeling, and my every musical need. Whereas most people rely on a dozen different musicians to fulfill their listening requirements, I only need Van.

Suddenly, it isn't so difficult to explain why I'd turn over a small fortune to pay for the forty-one commercial releases in my Van collection; or why I'd be willing to mutilate my hard drive to accomodate his dozens of concert bootlegs; or why I'd skip the last week of my college semester to flock hundreds of miles away, only to witness a "phoned in" performance of Van's; or why I'd even go to the trouble of making a blog about all of this in the first place.

The world is not an easy place to live. Therefore, when a man incurs something that he can truly cherish... something that makes him truly happy... he must cling to it as if he were drowning. In some ways Van is my addiction; in other ways, he's my lifeline.

I could go on living without Van's music; but it would all be far less meaningful.

Video of the Day: Thursday, June 14

Saint Dominic's Preview: Sult Telefis Na Gaelige - 10 Nov 96

Top 10 Van Albums: #1, Astral Weeks

The task of reviewing one of the finest albums to grace the landscape of popular music is tenuous; after all, what can be said about such a monumental record that has not already been said?

Recorded in just a few short sessions, Astral Weeks was the first, and most artistically important, collection of songs that Van Morrison would ever produce. One song flows to the next in a dreamlike wave of acoustic guitars and flutes. Van's vocals are fresh, meandering, and inspired, and the lyrics are undoubtedly the most profound he's ever conjured. In an industry where originality is almost impossible, Astral Weeks leaves the listener feeling like he's been let in on some grand secret. Indeed, this is music of the highest grade, the likes of which has never been matched. The grandeur of the songwriting and musical accompaniment is inexplicable and heavenly. Although Van released dozens of quality albums following Astral Weeks, he was never able to match its spontaneity and sheer goodness.

Although the record, as a whole, is a towering, grandiose composition, the opening track lulls the listener into rapture with its unassuming, hushed melody. "Astral Weeks" yanks us into a seemingly endless song-cyle of love, from the ecstatic beginning to the heart wrenching end. The songs, while interconnected with one another thematically and musically, are strong enough to stand on their own as extraordinary works. "Astral Weeks," for instance, possesses an unstoppable ability to toss its audience onto its own, isolated cloud, with Van wringing out the final words, "in another time/in another place." It's an intricate epic, and one of the finest album openers in all of music.

"Beside You" pervades the same mystical ebb and flow that "Astral Weeks" introduced, and Van's voice twists, turns, stutters, and dribbles, creating a graceful elegance. The song contributes to the aforementioned cycle of a relationship, coloring Van as content, loyal, and eternally in love. Just when it seems that it can't get any better, however, we are proven wrong with the breathtaking "Sweet Thing." The guitar riff is among the most recognizable Van conceptions, and the strings section and base weave together wonderfully, making a memorable, playful sound. It is an articulate love song, and the imagery is appetizing as ever: "And I will raise my hand up into the night time sky/and count the stars shining in your eye." This is certainly not your average, run-of-the-mill ballads.

"Sweet Thing" is followed by an even stronger musical composition, and one of the two landmark achievements of the album. "Cyprus Avenue" is overflowing with personal symbols and images that recall Van's childhood, strolling down the stately Irish street, gazing at the "mansion on the hill" in dumbfounded wonder. The lyrics, which seem rambling and incoherent upon first listen, are actually an accurate portrayal of the feelings of Van's bursting passion. We transpose from the avenue, to the schoolyard, to the railroad, and then back to the avenue again. He sings, "yeah baby my tongue gets tied/every, every, every time I try to speak," providing a glimpse into his songwriting rationale for "Cyprus Avenue." His lyrics, much like his tongue, reveal impassioned and manic impressions of infatuated love.

The soft and ambling conclusion of "Cyprus Avenue" fades into the stunningly upbeat and jazzy "The Way That Young Lovers Do." It is so rollicking and noisy, in fact, that it seems wildly out of place amongst the unassertive tracks that comprise the rest of the album. Whereas the music surrounding it is warmly and invitingly quiet, "Young Lovers" is jarring and somewhat ominous in composition. Although the lyrics portray more of the eloquent, gushing romance of the preceeding songs, we begin to wonder how much longer it can really last.

"Madame George" returns the record to its trancelike quality, and provides one of the most pleasant listening experiences in Van's entire catalogue. The instrumentation is sparse and savory, and the lyrics are, to say the least, enthralling. Madame George is one of the most oft-ananlyzed characters in the tradition of song, with most critics ultimately concluding that she/he is a lonely and troubled transvestite trying to live in the social climate of Ireland. Although Van has repeatedly declined to elaborate on this intriguing character, the loveliness of the song never fails to capture the imaginations of its listeners. At a sprawling duration of almost ten minutes, "Madame George" never wears its welcome; although the musical pace remains consistent throughout, it is uniquely engrossing and engaging.

"Ballerina" seems like another beautiful extension to the underlying confession of love throughout Astral Weeks, but there are strong undercurrents of a developing discontent on Van's part. Lines such as, "you know I saw the writing on the wall/when you came up to me/child, you were heading for a fall," set the audience into a dizzying realization that everything Van has been espousing in the previous tracks is on the verge of a complete collapse.

Sure enough, in "Slim Slow Slider," we find the relationship dead in the water, as Van's lover has incurred spiritual death, and fled to another man. The musical backdrop to this sad tale is lonely and brooding, and Van's voice appropriately conveys despair and melancholy. He laments that "[I] saw you early this morning/with your brand new boy and your Cadillac/you're gone for something/and I know you won't be back." This event presents us with quite a departure from the opening track, which is bursting with romance and affection. As the song frantically flails and flutters to a conclusion, Van gasps out his final words on the matter: "I know you're dying, baby/and I know you know it too." We are talking about spiritual death here, as this forsaken lover has turned into a shell of her former self, leaving Van in the dust trail of her shiny, glossy new Cadillac.

Astral Weeks, from beginning to end, reads like an intricate tale of love and love lost. In various moments throughout the eight momumental tracks, the emotions range from complete sweetness and ecstacy, to cold and piercing bitterness. The songs contained within the confines of this tale are undeniably some of Van's very best; "Astral Weeks," "Sweet Thing," "Caravan," and "Madame George" are all deserving of top-ten rankings in Van's formidable catalog. Furthermore, few albums in modern music have achieved the otherwordly feel that Astral Weeks has, and still manage to lure millions of listeners into their able grasp. There is a reason that most musical critics place this album near the top of their "most important albums" list: this is not only undeniably appealing material, but also potentially life-changing material.

Astral Weeks is the best of the best.

Top 10 Van Albums: #2, Into the Music

Shocking that an album other than Astral Weeks should contribute to the dethroning of Moondance as one of Van's top two albums, eh? Whereas Moondance is an epic collection of top-grade songs, Into the Music is an epic collection of top-grade songs that helped to change the course of an increasingly shakey career path for Van. Following 1974's commercially forgotten Veedon Fleece, Van steered toward the more savory beacon of radio-friendliness. While the songs on A Period of Transition and Wavelength are adequate, they are ultimately shallow and forgettable. Just when it seemed that Van was running low on the steam that helped fuel early classics like Saint Dominic's Preview and Tupelo Honey, he hushed any critics, at once, with the release of the 1979's splendid Into the Music. The musical influences are plentiful: jazz, blues, gospel, celtic, and rhythm and blues. The songs, stacked together, present a joyful chronicle of Van's best qualities. His vocal performances are fiery and unrestrained, the songwriting is meaningful and thrushed full of tasty imagery, and the musicianship is crisp, rich, and in parts, spontaneous. Whatever sort of creative sabbatical that overtook Van in the years following Veedon Fleece seems long-departed after listening to Into the Music.

"Bright Side of the Road" displays a happy Van, soaring through such optimistic lyrics as "let's enjoy it while we can/won't you help me share my load?" His harmonica solo in the midst of jangling guitars helps to portray such pure joy; somehow, Van seems to be enjoying music for the first time in so very long. "Bright Side of the Road" fades slowly into another celebratory jig, "Full Force Gale." While the album opener is folksy in mood, its follow-up tune is dripping with gospel influences. The backing female singers rush in to join Van in the choruses, and the effect is a very uplifting proclamation: "like a full force gale/I was lifted up again/I was lifted up again by the Lord." Aside from its obvious religious overtones, the song perhaps tells a deeper story: when Van sings, "I was headed for a fall/then I saw the writing on the wall," he may very well be making reference to the career U-turn he made with Into the Music, abandoning his quest for commercial success and returning to the joyous depths of his music. Tony Marcus' contributions on violin give a welcome whistfullness to many of the songs, and "Full Force Gale" is a prime example.

"Steppin' Out Queen" continues to flaunt Van's stylistic diversity, summoning strong rhythm & blues grooves to create a beautifully bizarre sequel to the Astral Weeks standout, "Madame George." Many of the nightlife images prevalent throughout "Madame George" resurface throughout "Steppin' Out Queen," and the subject in question bears many of the same character traits. The horns flourish, in rising and falling sequences, and just as the song reaches a musical apex, it up-and-dies, with the beautiful strain of "come in the garden and just look at the flowers/we can just sit and talk for hours and hours." It's an exquisite piece, and a further indication of the rejuvination in Van's songwriting.

"Troubadours" begins with a majestic dash of trumpets, almost as if we've been transported back to medieval times. "Rolling Hills" shifts gears entirely, and we are relocated to the sweeping countryside of Ireland. The celtic fiddling gives the song a wedding-march quality, and Van's gruff, growling vocals fit in with the stateliness of the music. As often does throughout Into the Music, Van whoops and shouts in blissful approval to his musicians' improvised licks. The audience may actually feel as though they've been invited to a celabratory party, with Van as their jolly host.

"You Make Me Feel So Free" is yet another upbeat track, this time with a carefree, horn-driven soulfulness. The happy contagiousness of the musicianship, coupled with Van's singing, makes for an effective and fun love song. It's not necessarily up to par with classics such as "Crazy Love" or "Sweet Thing," but it keeps Into the Music chugging along in a haze of musical ecstacy.

Whereas most albums peak in a single song, Into the Music enjoys a sprawling, four-song culmination, each of which is oozing with more ravishing fervor than anything else Van has ever produced. "Angeliou" begins, sounding like an affable companion for "Troubadors." However, the classical violin gives way to bluesy guitar, and Van's climactic shouts would bring the house down in many subsequent live performances. The song is lyrically simple, and follows the stream-of-consciousness pattern of Astral Weeks. The music, however, is far more refined and mature here, and the momentum builds and builds throughout the song, unlike anything Van had previously recorded.

Simply stated, "And the Healing Has Begun" is arguably Van's finest single musical achievement. Throughout his career, though irritable and cantankerous at times, he continually revisits the need for healing. This song, with its sweeping musical landscape and impassioned vocal performance, finds itself at the thematic epicenter for everything that Van's songwriting has ever stood for: the need for passion, the need for love, the need for music, and the need for healing. It's all here, in one glorious, all-encompassing anthem. If a single song could ever carry the distinction of calling itself "life-changing," this must be it.

"It's All in the Game/You Know What They're Writing About" is a deserving and soulful swan song for such an unprecented work as Into the Music. The zealous joy has faded, and we are left with a warm, restrained sense of ease. As Van consoles that "many a tear has to fall/but it's all in the game," we are left with the sense that it's all going to be okay. No matter what we may be suffering from in our lives, Van has found an ability to temporarily sop up our troubles, and replace them with hope. Few artists have the capability to reach out and manipulate the emotions of their audience, but Van Morrison is one of those rarest of beasts that can.

Following the release of Into the Music, Van embarked on a spiritual quest that resulted in such quality albums as Common One and Beautiful Vision. There is no doubt, then, that Into the Music played a pivotal role in refreshing his outlook on life, and refocusing him toward an inward, soul-searching quest that would ultimately lead to a heap of rewarding material to come. He found a way to let his soul and spirit fly into the music, and we, as listeners, are left to reap the rewards.

Top 10 Van Albums: #3, Moondance

Van Morrison's inaugural duo of albums, Astral Weeks and Moondance, are almost universally lauded as two of the most substantial works in the history of popular music. Two albums, uniquely enough, could not be more dissimilar, both in terms of song composition and peformance. Whereas Astral Weeks is sprawling, hushed, and haphazard in arrangement, Moondance is compact, lavish, and thoroughly conceived. Moondance, despite having two additional tracks than its predecessor, comes up short in playtime by eight minutes. This is not to say that the songs lack any depth or complexity; rather, they are perfectly orchestrated, fit-for-radio compositions that would all rank above any of the mainstream rubbish infecting today's airwaves. This is quality pop music, the likes of which has rarely been seen in recent decades.

"And It Stoned Me" kicks off the proceedings in an abrupt rush of vocals and plodding guitar. This is the closest we get to Astral Weeks songwriting, as the words are presented in a stream-of-consciousness method of storytelling. Van is recounting an occasion when he and a friend got caught in a rainstorm on the way home from a county fair; the event "stoned him," though not in a drug-induced sense that we would infer by today's standards. To be "stoned," by Van's interpretation, is to be mystified by some event or enlightenment. The song, lyrically, is strangely rapturous, and the music plays fittingly off the words. The steady rhythm of the drum and piano conveys a feeling of mysticism, which is precisely what Van is describing.

The title track is deservingly regarded as one of Van's most recognizable tunes. The jazzy ebb of cymbals and piano that usher in the song are among the most recognizable sounds in modern music, and the playful melody of the flute and horns provide a danceable backdrop to a set of sensual lyrics. Although it has never translated very well to a concert setting, "Moondance" is in the upper echelon of Van's vast playlist. "Crazy Love" is, like the song before it, a classic sound of romance. The falsetto vocal performance is delicate and vulnerable, and the soft, charming acoustic guitar helps guide the song into a new, syrupy stratosphere. It is absolutely Van's pinnacle achievement in the category of "love song," outshining the likes of "Tupelo Honey" and "Have I Told You Lately."

"Caravan,"a smooth but energetic rhythm and blues number, is arguably the epicenter of the album. As it reaches a raging climax of, "I long just to hold you tight/so I can feel you/switch on your electric light/so we can get down to what is really wrong," Van invokes some of his most overtly sexual lyrics in nearly forty years of songwriting. While other classics, such as "Moondance," don't always suit a concert atmosphere, "Caravan" has proven itself to be quite the showstopper on many occasions throughout the storied history of Van's live performances. The "turn it up! turn it up!" chants never fail to persuade even the most laid-back of audiences into a frantic frenzy.

The string of masterful ditties marches on with "Into the Mystic," with some of Van's most passionate and, ironically, mystical singing. The strummed acoustic guitar that introduces the song has an epic aura to it, and the audience knows from the start that they are in for a remarkable listening experience. The baseline carries the sound of a babbling brook, and the words of "I want to rock your gypsy soul/just like way back in the days of old," propel the song into radiant magic.

None of the songs following "Into the Mystic" measure up to the greatness of the preceeding handful of tracks, but they are all nonetheless terrific, accessible blues numbers that would be standouts on any other Van album. "These Dreams of You" is an infectious blues excursion that reaches a flowing, swinging ecstacy in its choruses of "now hush-a-bye." "Brand New Day" finds Van in an understated but overwhelmingly soulful vocal "zone," and the song tiptoes along with a trance-like quality. "Everyone," which leads the film Royal Tennenbaums to its rousing concluson, is a glamorous ballad that sounds classical in structure. Finally, "Glad Tidings" ushers Moondance into a celebratory culmination of music, and the album makes an energetic, final gasp before fading valiantly into silence, and into the annals of rock 'n' roll classics.

Moondance boasts more standout tracks than most musicians' Best of albums, and there is not one weak performance among the bunch. Despite the varying styles and sounds contained within the album, there is an underlying similarity in the musicianship that gives it a much-needed flow. With songs like the title track, "Crazy Love," "Caravan," and "Into the Mystic," how can Moondance not rank near the top of Van's illustrious index?

VM at Thetford Forest 7/9: Available for Download

Although I plan on resuming my Top 10 Van Albums tomorrow morning, I couldn't resist announcing that Van's Thetford Forest show is available for download at dimeadozen.org. Site registration is free, and there are literally hundreds of Van shows available for easy and relatively quick downloading via bit torrent.

For the link to the Thetford Forest download, click here.

Do not read further unless you are new to bit torrent downloading.


If you are new to the bit torrent circle, it is fairly easy to get started. Your first order of business will be to venture on over to dime-a-dozen and register for an account. It's free.

Next, you'll need to install the bit torrent downloader. There are several out there, but I've found that ABC Torrent is the easiest to install, and it has very nice download speeds. You can download the ABC torrent software for free by clicking here.

After installing the bit torrent software, you will need to download an audio converter software. For nearly all of the downloads at dime-a-dozen, you'll need FLAC audio converter, which you can download for free by clicking here.

Now, on to the actual downloading process.

1. The torrent file will appear at the top of the concert page at dime-a-dozen next to "Torrent File" in bold letters. For instance, if you want to download the Thetford Forest show, you'll right click, and choose "Save Target As."

2. Once you save the torrent file to your computer, you will need to open the ABC software by double-clicking it. Once it is open, you must drag the torrent file into the blank white space in the ABC window, and let go.

3. Before the torrent file appears in the ABC window, a screen will appear asking for a directory in which to save the completed file. Choose a location that is easily accessible, such as your desktop or "music" folder. Once selected, click "ok."

4. The file should begin to download. It could take as little as 10 minutes, or as long as 3+ hours, depending on the number of seeders (hosts) relative to the number of leechers (people trying to download from the hosts). Under "BT Status" it should read "working," after several seconds of initializing. The progress of the download will be displayed in the window. Do not close the ABC window while a torrent is downloading, or it will be terminated.

5. Once the "Progress" category reaches 100%, right click the torrent file in the ABC window and select "open file." You are now ready to convert the audio files to a playable format and enjoy them on your computer. After selecting "open file," a window folder should appear contained the audio files you just downloade; you are now safe to close the ABC window.

6. Open the FLAC audio decoder (which you have already installed on your computer) by double-clicking the icon for FLAC, which will be located on your desktop.



7. Return to the folder containing the concert files that you just opened via ABC. Each individual song will appear as a separate "FLAC" icon, which is a black square with a white colored "f" in the middle. Each of these files will be in ".flac" format. Highlight all of these squares (each of which, as I said, is a song within the whole concert you just downloaded), and drag them together into the FLAC software window. Drop the audio files in the white window by letting go of your mouse. Once all of the files appear in the FLAC window, click the second-to-last button on the right that says "decode."

7. A black screen will appear as the individual songs are decoded into a playable format. Leave this window alone until it reads "Press any key to continue...". This means that the decoding process is finished, and you may press any button on your keyboard to make the screen disappear.

8. Now you must relocate the folder containing the concert audio files. This is the same folder you located in step #6. You may delete the old FLAC files, as long as you see new files replacing them. There should be as many new audio files as there are FLAC files. If this is the case, you may delete the old FLAC files to clear up space on your computer (you don't have to delete the FLAC files; it is your choice).

9. Next: Simply enjoy the music! Drag the new audio files into Windows Media Player (or your preferred media player), and play them.

I hope this seminar, of sorts, was useful to you. Actually, this whole process is a lot less complicated than it seems, and by installing all of this software, you are opening yourself up to a large world of internet concert sharing. If you experience any trouble, message me at jsa92685@gmail.com, and I will respond to you as quickly as possible.

Top 10 Van Albums: #4, Saint Dominic's Preview

At the time that Saint Dominic's Preview was released in 1972, Van had produced four great albums in three years, and common logic would dictate that a letdown was in store. Such a letdown, however, would have to wait another five years to surface, as Van continued to chalk up magnificent music in short order. Among the batch of 1970's classics is Saint Dominic's Preview, a mildly popular yet often overlooked treasure. One of the strongest attributes of this particular collection of songs is that they all possess wildly diverse musical styles, yet they somehow manage to maintain a collective unity within the framework of the album. Many of the songs boast true accessibility for even the most casual of fans, but they also contain complex and interesting musical arrangements. The lyrics range from average ("Gypsy") to unbeatable (the title track), and there are no throw away tracks. Furthermore, while some musicians might struggle to compile a meaningful album out of a mere seven songs, Saint Dominic's Preview is so amply stuffed with quality music that even one additional track would be too many.

The album begins with Van singing a capella, ushering in a fun rendition of "Jackie Wilson Said (I'm in Heaven When You Smile)." When the horns and drums kick into rhythm and the song gets rousingly underway, the listener feels like breaking into a spontaneous dance party. The arrangement is jazzy swing, and although the lyrics aren't particularly thought-provoking, it is among Van's finest up-tempo love songs. "Gypsy" follows, changing the tone quickly into a rhythm and blues tour de force. The lyrics, again, aren't among Van's best, but the rhythm is unbearably catchy. The pace races along in manic fashion, as the horns can barely keep stride with the drums. "I Will Be There" takes us back to 1950's jazz, and Van waltzes through the performance coolly and methodically. It's the perfect soundtrack for a lazy afternoon, with lines like "if it's on a lazy afternoon in summertime/and you're drinking champagne and wine." The first three tracks are as compact and accessible as anything on Moondance, but such radio-friendliness does not again resurface on Saint Dominic's Preview.

"Listen to the Lion" summons the best qualities of any of the Astral Weeks tracks; it is meandering, ethereal, and pneumatic, but never lackluster or boring. At eleven minutes, there is plenty of room for error, but Van keeps the listener guessing throughout every second of the song. By employing every outlandish vocal trick in the book, such as moaning, growling, whispering, shouting, and even bubbling, "Listen to the Lion" exudes eccentricities. Lyrically, the song urges the listener to adopt the courage to seek out a new life that will best suit himself. Metaphorically, this courage is represented by the lion that Van repeatedly invites during the song. Thematically and musically, it is one of Van's finest masterpieces.

Following "Listen to the Lion," the title track provides another compelling piece of music. This time, though, the theme is not automatically clear; instead, Van indulges in a parade of personal symbols that likely would have no meaning to his audience whatsoever. The music chugs along behind the momentum of an electric guitar and accompanying horns and piano, and the listener never becomes complacent with the music, despite a lack of clarity in the words. The names, locations, and symbols that Van employs are rich enough to possess some intrigue, thus sparking an unintended interest in the words.

"Redwood Tree" is a punchy and upbeat musical jaunt, in which a boy seeks comfort beneath a towering (you guessed it...) redwood. There are no morals to be gained; Van simply tells the story of a boy venturing into the woods with his dog, only to lose him for good. The tree provides solace and protection to the boy in a still innocent world; this is a mere glimpse into the nostalgia that Van would explore in later albums such as No Guru, No Method, No Teacher. The album concludes with another rambling, ten minute composition. "Almost Independence Day" is not nearly as lyrically bold as "Listen to the Lion," but it is nevertheless whimsical and beguiling in its own right. The acoustic guitar plucking mixed with crackling drumbeats and brooding synthesizer convey the image of a marching gypsy band. Van vaguely reels off a stream of consciousness reading of various summertime, dusk-like images, and the song is all together haunting as it fades to silence.

Saint Dominic's Preview represents a successful merging of various musical styles, and they all mesh together spotlessly. We find Van's songwriting not so much in soul-searching mode, but moreso in storytelling mode. The long list of images that sprawl throughout the seven songs tell a nostalgic tale of everywhere that Van's heretofore gypsy lifetime has taken him; Ireland, Caledonia, and America. There is no filler, and every song is light enough for accessibility, and simultaneously weighty enough for intricacy.

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.

Top 10 Van Albums: #6, Veedon Fleece

By the time that Van released Veedon Fleece in 1974, his career was gaining the momentum of a mighty steam train. Moondance, His Band and Street Choir, and Saint Dominic's Preview were all commercial triumphs, and his reputation as a cosummate stage performer was spreading. It comes as somewhat of a surprise, then, that Van would choose to release the sparse-sounding Veedon Fleece as his reply to such a flourishing period in his life. Veedon Fleece was never destined to be a commercial success, as nearly every track is down-tempo, the arrangements are exiguous, and there are no discernible radio singles among the bunch. Gone are the ornate arrangements of Moondance and the jumpy rhythm and blues of His Band and Street Choir. Instead, Van offers up lyrically introspective tracks, woven together with a fusion of soft jazz and folk; for comparison, the overall feel of the album is somewhat akin to Astral Weeks.

"Fair Play" begins the album with a jazzy flush of acoustic guitars and piano. It's a relaxing sound that seems fit for a warm spring afternoon. The arrangement is subtly complex, and the instruments mingle together to great a wandering, enchanting sound. "Fair Play" flows effortlessly into the moody "Linden Arden Stole the Highlights," in which Van tells the bizarre story of a man who is attacked on a San Francisco street, and "takes the law into his own hands." On the surface, the story of "Linden Arden" seems straightforward and uncomplicated, with a linear plot and an unresolved conclusion. However, it is in this particular song that Van drops the first of many hints throughout his career regarding a perceived cruel and callous world that he is living in. In later albums, such as The Healing Game and Back On Top, we see Van elaborate on the story told throughout Veedon Fleece, about a world that is crumbling down around him.

"Who Was That Masked Man?" is a mere sequel to "Linden Arden Stole the Highlights," expounding on the burdens of "living with a gun." The entire duration of the song, much like the playful and endearing "Warm Love," is sung in falsetto, yet the effect is much different this time around; Van sounds brooding and disconsolate. "Streets of Arklow" and "You Don't Pull No Punches, But You Don't Push the River" fit together nicely, and adopt an even more ominous, menacing tone than their predecessors. "Streets of Arklow" actually sounds like a gypsy anthem, with an arrangement that is plodding and mysterious. The intiricate sounds of the flute in "You Don't Pull No Punches" present an entrancing, yet ultimately inaccessible melody. As he does in the album's opener, Van continues to pluck out childhood symbols and personal heroes, which make many of the tunes lyrically unapproachable for the listener. Van, at times, seems to be on a completely different wavelength than his audience, and much of Veedon Fleece exposes that quality in his songwriting.

After a slew of sleepy but beautiful smooth jazz numbers, Van literally wakes us up with the catchy and fun "Bulbs." Placed strategically at the center of the album, it is the only up-tempo song. The pace of the song is dictated by the jangling acoustic guitar and the bubbling base guitar, and they play off of one another to create the feeling of a motor car, speeding down a hilly contry lane. The songs that follow, "Cul de Sac" and "Comfort You," restore the album to its lumbering pace. "Cul de Sac" is a tour de force of vocal performances, and Van's performance soars, growls, wails, and utterly amazes. It is the most passionate rendering on Veedon Fleece, and indeed one of the finest of his entire catalogue. "Comfort You" plays like a loyal companion to its antecedent, as the base line is nearly the same, and although the songwriting lacks complexity, it is beautiful nonetheless.

"Come Here My Love" is not among the strongest tracks on Veedon Fleece, as it seems to putter in place without ever going anywhere. Van gives a hushed and understated vocal delivery, which adds to its underwhelming sense. Finally, "Country Fair" ends the album in much the same fashion as it began: quiet and unassuming. The song reads like a strem-of-consciousness poem, and the music is airy and ethereal. The flute and plucked guitar slide along quietly, much like a delicate stream.

Veedon Fleece, for all practical purposes, is a tale of two separate albums: pre-"Bulbs" and post-"Bulbs." The first five tracks on the album are comparable to a five act play; the songs are not entirely separate from one another, as they all work together to create a single feeling and texture. Taken apart from the album itself, a song like "Who Was That Masked Man?" would not stand alone as one of Van's greatest. However, when pinched in between "Linden Arden Stole the Highlights" and "Streets of Arklow," it serves a masterful connecting track, impeccably linking one song to the next. While the songs comprising the first half of the album rely on one another for mood and effect, the final five tracks on Veedon Fleece each stand alone as separate and deserving achievements in musicianship. Although the sounds of each song are not far departed from the next, they each convey separate thoughts and attitudes. "Bulbs" would not seem out of place on a Van Morrison compilation album, and neither would "Cul de Sac" or "Comfort You," for that matter. Can the same be said for "Who Was That Masked Man?"

Veedon Fleece is Van's underappreciated masterpiece. Everyone's heard of Astral Weeks and Moondance, and rightfully so; however, this album ranks alongside them in musical merit. To the careful listener, it seems as if Van may have had one foot in another universe during these sessions, and the result is a loose, soulful, and nearly sublime work of art.

Top 10 Van Albums: #7, Back On Top

Back On Top, if nothing else, presents irrefutable evidence that Van Morrison has not faded into rock 'n' roll obscurity. He is not a novelty act, nor is he a man to rest on the considerable laurels of his early fame. As a matter of fact, a few of the songs contained within this 1999 album are among the best of his extensive career; the songwriting is as strong as ever, and the performances are rich and rejuvinated from some of his less sturdy efforts of the early nineties. Most of the songs on Back On Top would be standouts on almost any of his earlier albums.

Ironically, this strong album begins with its weakest number, "Goin' Down Geneva." This, a raunchy blues tune, is lyrically shallow and instrumentally jarring. Thankfully, the remainder of the album resembles nothing of its opening track. "Philosopher's Stone" is Van's strongest song in over a decade, and it paints a picture of an older Van, "out on the highways/and the byways all alone/still searching for [his] home." Van is restless as ever, and much of the song emits a very sombre feel. Nonetheless, although he decries that "it's a hard road," there is a bit of silver lining to the road that Van is ever traveling. "Philosopher's Stone" is a soul-searcher's and a gypsy's anthem, and it is among the best of all Van's material.

"In the Midnight" is an overwhelmingly melancholy ballad about a lonely Van haunted by the memory of his lost love. The ache in his voice is readily evident; the emotion seems startlingly sincere. Van, in the past, has sometimes struggled to walk the line between "whiney" and "emotionally devastated." At this point in his career, he has clearly achieved such an ability, and its fruits are evident in this wonderful song.

Following the energetic and radio-friendly title track, we come to another Van classic, "When the Leaves Come Falling Down." The sound is that of a well-constructed ballad; the pace is slow and meandering, and the arrangements are lush and full. The lyrics are quite poetic, and Van creates the atmosphere of a damp autumn afternoon on the streets of Paris. This song is an achievement in musicianship and writing, and is a definite highlight of the album.

"High Summer" is a bouncy, jangling tune, in which Van tells a story. Somehow, the contents and the subject of the story are in question; the listener is left to formulate his own plot from the vague sketches that Van outlines throughout the song. The protagonist of the tale is an escapee of his own prison, and his past and future are unknown, as we merely see a quick snapshot of time, in which "high summer's got him low down."

"Reminds Me of You" is a continuation of "In the Midnight," as Van continues to lament his lost love. Whether his companion has died is not clear; perhaps she is living, but many miles out of reach. As we discovered with "In the Midnight," this is a convincingly bitter longing that Van is suffering from. However, just when the listener is ready to break down and cry in pity for Van, the moment is halted with the abrupt beginning to "New Biography." Here, Van indicts his "so-called friends who claim to have known [him] then." Although he is merely complaining here, it is among Van's finest "whiney" tunes. His discontent with the pop culture has been well documented, and such unhappiness has been perpetuated here into a diatribe against old comrades and acquaintes who claim an interest in Van based on his fame and fortune. The songwriting is mediocre at best, but the music is catchy and fun.

The album finishes strongly with "Precious Time" and "Golden Autumn Day," the former being one of Van's most successful hit singles since "Brown-Eyed Girl," some thirty years prior. He warns that "precious time is slippin' away/you know you're only king for a day;" basically, he's pleading with his listeners to forego the trivialities of life and live fully in what short time is left. "Golden Autumn Day" is a strange tune in all of its bittersweetness. On one hand, the subject in question is being "attacked by two thugs," yet at the same time he's "takin' in the indian summer/and [he's] pretending that it's paradise/on a golden autumn day." These are starkly contrasting images, and the arrangement of the song does even more to confuse the listener with its pleasant, soaring melodies. Van may as well be telling two stories all at once, because the verses and the chorus simply don't match up.

Back On Top was received well by critics at the time of its release, and songs like "Philosopher's Stone," "Precious Time," and "In the Midnight" have become some of Van's strongest concert staples of the past several years. For a man who had been fiddling constantly in the music business for more than three decades at the time of this release, one would expect a tired, unoriginal effort out of Back On Top. Fortunately for his fans, Van continues to reinvent himself with every new album, thus keeping his perspective alive and crisp. This is a monumental album from a music legend.

Top 10 Van Albums: #8, The Healing Game

Following the release of 1995's wildly successful Days Like This, Van slapped together two subpar albums in Tell Me Something: The Songs of Mose Allison and How Long Has This Been Going On. With the release of The Healing Game in 1997, however, Van demonstrated that he hadn't yet lost his ability to produce listenable and meaningful songs. Pee Wee Ellis' presence on the album really shines, and takes many of the songs to another level. Van's singing seems scratchy throughout, and he may well have been suffering from some sort of affliction at the time of recording. Interestingly, his gruff-throated presentation serves the contents of this album well; while in the beginning we Van is forecasting a virtual armageddon with "Rough God Goes Riding," he leaves us with the uplifting and hopeful title track to conclude the album. His scratchy throat is a microcosm for the proceedings: he may be down, but ultimately he is not down for the count.

"Rough God Goes Riding" is a strong opening song, and Van spends his time lyrically gushing over a perceived lack of hope. As aforementioned in the title, he describes God as "rough," and goes so far as to say that "there'll be no more heroes/they'll be reduced to zero." It's a tone of utter hopelessness, yet the music is all the while gorgeous and elegant. The acoustic stumming mingles nicely with the melancholy horns, and the piano licks add a nice backdrop. "Fire in the Belly," which follows, is a well-arranged, catchy love song, but it is nothing along the lines of previous beauties like "Crazy Love" or "Have I Told You Lately." Van portrays a mature voice; indeed, there is no puppy love here. The underlying feeling, thus far, is that we are dealing with a musician that is matured yet unsettled in his third decade of performing, and the material reflects this restlessness.

"The Weight" and "Waiting Game" slow the tempo down, but nonetheless carry the burden of restlessness that plague the entire album. The lyrics throughout are full of weights, waiting, and fires; for some reason, Van seems almost obsessive compulsive in his preoccupation with the slow passage of time. "Piper at the Gates of Dawn" is a pleasant retreat from the restless Van. It tells a mystical tale, and seems oddly like a fairy tale.

"Burning Ground" is a modern Van epic, along the lines of "Caravan" from Moondance or the title track of Saint Dominic's Preview. The song opens with the waves of Van's harmonica, and then the acoustic guitar churning and gruff-voiced singer cut through the peace. The pace is hectic, and the verses are angrily shouted. The theme of the song deals with renewal, but it's not necessarily a renewal of the pleasant sort; there's plenty of wind, rain, and ash scattered throughout the song. After the weighty "Burning Ground," Van delivers a streetcorner blues tune, "It Once Was My Life." The cynicism continues, as Van declares that his own life has been robbed of him by some "system," and people he once thought he knew. By dropping phrases such as "locked in by the system," and "trials and tribulations and stupidity still rules," he's making it known that while the ultimate name of the game is healing, there's still no shortage of misery in his weary world.

"Sometimes We Cry" is a beautiful ballad, and signals the end of the bitterness and cynicism. The song opens with a simple base line, which is melancholy and hopeful, all at once. "Sometimes we live/sometimes we die/sometimes we cry" sings Van, foreshadowing that while he may sometimes revel in the bad times, there is still hope and room for healing. It's significant to note here that he admits there being a time to "live" along with a time to "die," as he is essentially conceding that there is some goodness to life.

After an out-of-place "If You Love Me," the album concludes on a strong note with the title track of The Healing Game. The opening organ drones give the feeling of a Sunday morning spent in church; the listener can almost feel the sunlight pouring through stained-glass windows, casting colors of pastel onto the face. It's a therapeutic song, with Van chanting fervently to "sing it out loud/sing it in your name/sing it like you're proud/sing the healing game." Throughout Van's forty year career, it's always been all about the healing. From "Did Ye Get Healed?" to "And the Healing Has Begun" to "The Healing Game," the common denominator between us all is that we all must play the healing game over and over again.

Although Van's voice is not in top form, The Healing Game is a musically and lyrically complex work of art. The instrumentation is ornate and tight, and the words all deal with trials, tribulations, and ultimately, healing. The album should be required listening for anyone undergoing a crisis or depression; Van's words are so sincere and the music is so inviting, that even Van himself could talk perhaps the most troubled of souls into reconciliation with the world.

Top 10 Van Albums: #9, Beautiful Vision

Perhaps the only Van Morrison album that has outdone Beautiful Vision in terms of mixed reviews is 1980's Common One. The addition of Mark Isham (synthesizer/trumpet) to the band added an otherworldly aura to Van's music, and Beautiful Vision provides compelling evidence of the power of his contribution. The songs flow together gracefully, and the final result is that the whole work is much greater than the sum of its parts. While the songs may not stand particularly well on their own (although some, like Cleaning Windows, can), the effect of one's listening to Beautiful Vision is like a warm, endless dream.

"Celtic Ray," the album's opener, essentially sets the tone as one of soothing mysticism. The listener would likely need an encyclopedia in hand to dissect the song, and ultimately the words are not necessarily even worth pick apart for meaning. At its core, the song regards Van's going back to his celtic roots to find peace in his music. The sound we are hearing is a result of his journey back to the celtic ray to find inspiration. It's a beautiful piece of music, and although the words are, at times, nonsensical, it is a pleasant introduction to an outstanding album. "Celtic Ray" is followed by "Northern Muse (Solid Ground)," which further expounds upon Van's spiritual journey into his past. The song sounds identical in rhythm and meter to its predecessor, somewhat of a musical extension. The themes interconnect wonderfully, and the songs, taken together, are two of the finest opening tracks on any Morrison album.

"Dweller On the Threshold" is next, and signals the end of a truly great trifecta of spiritual quest tunes. Van's yearning for personal peace here is unmatched throughout his entire, formidable repertoir, and the tireless beat of the cymbals echoes this notion throughout the song. The lyrics are again mystical and spiritual in nature, and the warmth of the sound could lull even the most cynical of listeners into a tranquil trance. "Beautiful Vision" follows, and is incidentally the weakest track of the bunch, despite its status as title track of the album. The musical style almost leans toward country, which sits awkwardly out of place with the rest of the album. It's not necessarily a throwaway track, yet it doesn't settle in well with the ambiance that the previous three songs had established.

"She Gives Me Religion" returns to the synth-oriented, celtic sound. The pace of the song is methodical and beautiful, and the words harken back to Van's youth as a boy in Ireland. It's not your archetypal love song; the nostalgic longing, along with the pure joy of recollecting a childhood love, fuse to give the song a very pleasant lyrical aura. "Cleaning Windows" provides the listener with a vast, yet lovely, departure from the dreamlike trance of the preceeding songs. It's a plodding, and very addictive blues number. The verses are almost in spoken word, while the ever-famous chorus of "what's my line?" grooves along nicely with the bluesy guitar.

With "Vanlose Stairway," we return to the established trance of the first half of Beautiful Vision. It has become a concert staple for over two decades; indeed, it seems to be a personal favorite of Van's, which is evident in his passionate yet restrained delivery on the album. "Aryan Mist" isn't one of the stronger tracks on the album, but it carries the dreamlike vibe along nicely enough until we reach "Across the Bridge Where Angels Dwell." This song, almost like an Irish lullaby, provides immensely pleasant listening. The flute that ushers in the opening of the song is sleepy yet happy, and the overall tone of the song is very peaceful. "Close your eyes in fields of wonder/close your eyes and dream," repeated throughout the chorus, is delivered softly by Van, as if he is trying to lull the listener to sleep. And what a peaceful sleep it would be!

Beautiful Vision closes with the trancelike "Scandinavia." Perhaps the strongest of Van's instrumental numbers, it has all the qualities of an award winning film score. The bits of piano sprinkled among the flush of synthesizers and bass suggests that perahps the spiritual peace for which Van has been striving throughout the album has, at once, come to fruition.

This album, though a favorite among Van fans, has left critics puzzled long since its release decades ago. Some have panned the album, and some have praised it. Rolling Stone magazine even went so far as to recently decree Beautiful Vision as "one of the worst albums by one of the best bands in music." It's evidently not a collection of songs that everyone can appreciate; still, for those who have embarked on any spiritual journey akin to Van's, this can be an immensely rewarding listen.

Top 10 Van Albums: #10, Irish Heartbeat

In the summer of 1988, Van Morrison released the most meaningful musical collaboration of his career, Irish Heartbeat. Van returned to his celtic roots to record a handful of traditional Irish ballads, and a few of his own originals, with the Chieftains. The album contains no hit singles, nor does it include any of Van's colossal epics along the lines of "Into the Mystic" or "Cyprus Avenue." Still, there is an underlying passion in Morrison's vocals, and the instrumentation is superb.

"Star of the County Down" begins the album with a fun, traditional Irish jaunt. Van's vocals aren't exceptional in this first number, but it's a fitting and danceable opener. "Ta Mo Chleamhnas Deanta" follows, with Van and Paddy Maloney of the Chieftains sharing dueling vocals. Paddy sings the verses in gaelic, followed by Van in English. It's another traditional Irish gem, and the album is off to a fun, if not simple, start. The third song of the set is a reworking of "Irish Heartbeat" which had previously appeared on Van's Inarticulate Speech of the Heart album. This renditional is a far superior performance, with Van's voice soaring in top form, and the Chieftain's instrumentals laying a beautiful, fitting celtic backdrop to the song. Although it is lyrically simple, "Irish Heartbeat" tells a meaningful lesson: "This old world is so cold/don't care nothin' for your soul/that you share with your own ones."

A gorgeous reading of the Irish traditional "Raglan Road" follows, and it is a stunning highlight to the album. Van's vocals are sombre yet rich, and the pace of the song shifts seamlessly from a slow waltz to a celebratory swing during the bridges. "She Moved Through the Fair" is the fifth track, and it signals a tremendous drop in tempo from the previous tunes. Van treats it like a poem set to song, and the instrumentals are effective, yet secondary to the words. It's another beautiful Irish standard, and certainly a fresh take on a very old tune. "I'll Tell Me Ma" picks the tempo back up to a fiery Irish jig. It's a simple, but ultimately fun and infectious dance number.

"Carrickfergus" is another sombre Irish ballad. Van's vocals, however, are breathtaking, and completely overshadow the instrumentation. I've rarely heard such a passionate performance from Van, and "Carrickfergus" is thus a sad, powerful, rewarding listen. "Celtic Ray" is a remake from the Van original that appeared on the "Beautiful Vision" album, and it is given new life here. It is faster, more lively, and certainly a fun listen. Van adds several vocal tricks to this new take, such as scatting, whispering, and shouting. There is no doubt that he is having the time of his life in the studio with the Chieftains. "My Lagan Love" is the weakpoint of the album, although not a complete dud. The tempo seems slow, plodding, and ultimately dull. Again, however; Van's vocals are in top form. "Irish Heartbeat" closes with a cover of the Irish jig "Marie's Wedding," which is a fun, danceable tune. Van's vocals are unspectacular, and for once they take a backseat to the joyous, wonderful musicianship of the Chieftains. We end the album in the same mood that "Star of the County Down" kicked it off with: a cheerful celebration of Van's celtic roots.

"Irish Heartbeat" likely won't be on many critics' top ten lists, and it won't be remembered as one of Van's most important albums. In my opinion, however, there is a lot to enjoy about this album. It's a perfect companion to a sunny summer afternoon, and a pleasant exploration into the roots of Van's musical journies.

"So Glad To See You, So Glad You're Here..."

"...Come here beside me now, we can clear inhibition away." Greetings. My name is Johnny, and from one Van fan to another, I'd like to thank you for visiting my blog. It's a work in progress at this point in time, and I'm currently working out some ideas on the design. Hopefully within a week or two, things will settle down for me and I can devote some serious time to cleaning up this blog and and turning it into a viewing "spectacle."

In the days and weeks ahead, I will begin my blog by running through my top ten list of my all-time favorite Van albums. A daunting task, but one that I feel I am up to. After that, I may rank and discuss the live albums, followed by a top twenty-five all-time favorite Van song list. We'll see.

Again, thanks for visiting! Cheers.