Van Morrison In Fairfax Concert Review 06-Aug-06

Enigmatic Van Morrison connects in his own way BY MELISSA RUGGIERI
TIMES-DISPATCH STAFF WRITER
Few artists can get away with caring so little about their fans. But Van Morrison can.
For whatever reason, it's OK that the extraordinary Irish singer rarely brings his music to the stage -- Sunday's show was his first Virginia appearance since 1986 at Wolf Trap and one of only six U.S. dates slated through mid-September.
When Morrison is onstage, he could be singing to any random audience in any darkened sports arena in the world. There is no attempt to connect, aside from several husky, but friendly, thank-yous between songs. He doesn't even introduce his fabulous eight-piece band. That's a task for an off-stage announcer.
But Morrison is a famously enigmatic persona, and the rarity of his appearances makes witnessing him in person all the more desirable. It also doesn't hurt that, three weeks shy of his 61st birthday, the man sounds phenomenal.
In his trademark uniform of dark suit, white hat and shades, Morrison began with a jaunty touch, his voice skipping through "All Work and No Play" as he alternately blew on the saxophone.
His ridiculously distinctive voice -- one that still sounds shellacked by whiskey -- follows whatever cadence he is feeling at that second. Structure and canned scripts don't exist in Morrison's world, and his band must be ready to respond to his whims.
"Midnight, midnight," he called to them, signaling the start of "In the Midnight." Morrison's music is an indescribable brew of jazz, Celtic folk, pop and blues, and the theoretical reason behind this itty-bitty tour, his latest album "Pay the Devil," adds country to the pot. Although the second half of Sunday's tight, 90-minute concert concentrated on Morrison's familiar pop/rock tunes, the aching pedal steel guitar of Cindy Cashdollar dominated the band's direction all night -- particularly in her solo on "Playhouse," from the current album.
Morrison appeared keenly interested in his band, usually turning to face whichever member was soloing, his left hand patting his thigh in rhythm. Each song embraced a musical interlude --trombone, organ, pedal steel -- and then Morrison would come roaring back to bring it home, sometimes going deep and Louis Armstrong guttural ("Bright Side of the Road"), sometimes standing solid and pensive ("Crazy Love").
The sold-out crowd of about 8,000 contained mostly boomers ready to marinate in nostalgia and luckily for them, Morrison was on the same wavelength. You get the feeling that he plays his hits not out of obligation to the audience, but simply because he felt like singing "Wild Night" at that moment.
Morrison delivered several gifts to this crowd, bleating the low, creeping notes of "Moondance" on his saxophone before letting his background singers handle the second verse, Manhattan Transfer-style. He approached "Have I Told You Lately" -- one of the greatest love songs ever -- similarly, playing the chorus on his horn and then edging into its soulful lyrics.
A whimsical "Brown Eyed Girl," punctuated by an emphatic "La-ti-da" at the end, launched the audience to its feet, where it remained through the requisite singalong of "Gloria."
Clearly, there were no grudges held against the guy for taking two decades to visit.

Setlist:
1. All Work And No Play
2. Playhouse
3. Stranded
4. Back On Top
5. There Stands The Glass
6. Only A Dream
7. Bright Side Of the Road
8. Big Blue Diamonds
9. In The Midnight
10. Cleaning Windows
11. Crazy Love
12. Moondance
13. I Can't Stop Loving You
14. Precious Time
15. Have I Told You Lately
16. Help Me (with James Hunter)
17. Brown Eyed Girl
18. Wild Night
19. Gloria