Van Morrison – Astral Weeks

I share Mr. Land's skepticism of this Lp's reputation, but likely for different reasons, as I can hang in there with the songs and Morrison's delivery of them. But, musically, I have to say I prefer *any* Morrison with a rocknroll rhythm section to this under-rehearsed noodling in which it was too early in the process for anybody but the bassist (who seems to be the only person with a firm idea of his rhythmic footing) to have a definite groove. I have never been charmed by the primitive-yet-maudlin "string section" sawing away arhythmically, often somewhat out-of-tune, throughout most tracks, and have wanted a version of this with
a) no strings and b) a band with a month's more work on these songs to develop a stronger rhythmic core that everybody in the room understood in their bones.

I simply do not understand all the lavish praise this album has received from the late '60s onwards. Endless harsh constipated barking over the most simplistic, dull chord progressions imaginable. All his albums are more or less like this (as it's all he can do) but this one really gets my goat as it is always dubbed a "timeless classic" or whatever. I do like 'Van The Man' as a human being but can I have my 47 minutes back please?

Um álbum gostoso de ouvir com muito violão e melodias agradáveis. Falta um pouco de diversidade nas canções, mas mesmos assim é um disco que vale a pena ouvir.

Not sure what I have
The label is Olive Green. no 'made in...' on the label. Only reference code is K 46024

Cover looks 'old'. Has WS 1768 above photo of VM. Has Garrod & Lofthouse on it. Is in a flip-back sleeve

This album sounds like your dad growing up, trying to shag your ma

Astral Weeks by Van Morrison, hit the streets in November of 1968, a year that would see more than its fair share of incredible albums, albums that would not only define the times, but define the direction of rock n’ roll for years to come.

Bob Dylan released John Wesley Harding in December of 1967 ...
The Velvet Underground released White Light, White Heat in January of 1968 ...
Pink Floyd released A Saucerful Of Secrets in June of 1968 ...
Cream released Wheels Of Fire in July of 1968 ...
The Jefferson Airplane released Crown Of Creation in September of 1968 ...
Jimi Hendrix released Electric Ladyland in October of 1968 ...
The Beatles released The White Album in November of 1968 ...
The Kinks released Village Green Preservation Society in November of 1968 ...
The Rolling Stones released Beggars Banquet in December of 1968 ... and
Led Zeppelin released Led Zeppelin I in January of 1969 ...

I’m not sure whether Van Morrison realized the effects Astral Weeks would have, proving that following one’s muse is not always a bad thing. The album produced no radio hits to rival Morrison’s best known songs, such as “Brown Eyed Girl,” “Domino,” “Wild Night” and “Moondance.” And it has been outsold by several Morrison albums. But it has never gone out of print, and it continues to hold an almost sanctified place in the history of popular music. Astral Weeks consistently appears on lists extolling the top albums of all time and it has been dissected and praised by discerning music listeners for decades. More significantly, it is an album that Morrison himself has never top, or recreated.

Morrison was only twenty three years old when the album was completed, but the songs on Astral Weeks showed the perspective of a much older man. The extraordinary sound of the upright bass functions as a second voice, a foil for Morrison’s mercurial musings. The songs unfold and then gently recede, with strings trembling like leaves in a sun-kissed breeze, and Morrison’s voice often drifts away to a whisper. He is a stranger in this world, and his true home is in another time, in another place.

The album tells the story of searching for home [Morrison seems to be searching for a home, or a time, that he has already lived in, and a time he has lived through, but was never able to see it when it was right in front of his eyes], though only by looking back, and by focusing on commonplace details, is Van able to bring all that was into view. Morrison repeats phrases and words until they become incantations. Freed from the confines of pop structure and chord changes, he bends and twists lyrics in search of every possible nuance until he liberates them from literal meaning. “You breathe in, you breathe out, you breathe in, you breathe out,” he chants on “Beside You.” “Then you’re high, on your high-flying cloud.”

Morrison doesn’t belong to the world he describes because he feels too much; implied is the notion that life is only worth living in these emotional extremes, from the reverie of “The Way That Young Lovers Do” to the torment of “Cypress Avenue.” The images conjured in these whirls of madness and ecstasy are all the more powerful because they’re uncensored. His hometown street of elusive dreams becomes the setting for a tale of illicit obsession, where Morrison pines for a fourteen year old girl on “Cypress Avenue,” and over stately harpsichord, his self-denial turns into physical pain. Yet there is still a reward in feeling so deeply, and what is most unbearable ... is the impermanence of it all.

Review by Jenell Kesler

An all time favorite