Concert Review San Rafael 23-Feb-07
Beloved tunes redeem aloof Van Morrison at Marin Center show
Van Morrison revisited Marin, his old hometown, for the second time in a year Friday night, turning in a prosaic performance for a sellout crowd at the Marin Center that was rescued at the very end by a couple of old girlfriends - "Brown Eyed Girl" and "Gloria."
The Belfast rocker seemed to have trouble working up enthusiasm for this concert, perhaps a letdown from the night before in Los Angeles, when Al
Pacino presented him with the Oscar Wilde Award honoring Irish writing in film at a pre-Oscar party at the Wilshire Ebell Theatre hosted by the U.S.-Irish Alliance.
Morrison's songs have been featured in nearly 50 films. His newest album, "Van Morrison at the Movies," is a collection of 19 of them, several of
which he sang at Friday's concert in the Marin Veterans Memorial Auditorium, among them "Wonderful Remark" from "King of Comedy," "Wild Night" from "Thelma & Louise," "Into the Mystic" (sung by
daughter Shana Morrison) from "Patch Adams," "Bright Side of the Road" from "Fever Pitch," "Real Real Gone" from "Donovan Quick" and "Moondance"
from "An American Werewolf in London."
Morrison was last in Marin in March 2006, when he performed an intimate show at the West Marin roadhouse Rancho Nicasio, the first date on an American tour promoting his country/western CD "Pay the Devil." On Friday night, he tossed off the boozy ballad "There Stands the Glass."
For last year's tour, he traveled with a 13-piece band that he has reduced to a still substantial 10, including three backup singers and the exuberant
white-haired keyboardist John Allair, considered Marin's first rock star from his teenage years playing sock hops in the 1950s.
A 61-year-old member of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, the notoriously petulant superstar began his hour-and-45-minute show precisely at 7:30, early by most standards. There were a lot of empty seats at showtime, with fans straggling in through the first few songs.
He had on what has become his signature ensemble - dark suit and matching fedora. He looks like he has shed a few pounds, but he's still the same old Van the Man - mildly misanthropic, seldom speaking to the audience, turning his back on them, abandoning the mike to noodle on a keyboard, leaving the stage to let his guitar player introduce the band. He does manage small doses of humor, though, doing a Satchmo impression on one song, bleating like a sheep on another.
He joined voices with his daughter, Shana, one of Marin's most popular female singers, on "Sometimes We Cry" and "Wild Night." She beamed at him, and I thought I heard him mumble something like "I love her" when they were finished. I'd like to think I did, anyway.
He never picked up a guitar all night, preferring to punctuate his hornlike vocals with alto sax solos and blasts on harmonica.
Morrison lived in Marin during his intensely creative "Tupelo Honey" period in the 1970s, when his genius was just starting to bloom, but you wouldn't know it from him. He rarely gives interviews and never talks about his history here during a concert, but I can fill in a blank or two.
The first time I reviewed him at the Marin Vets was in March 1973, a long time ago. (Jesse Colin Young opened that show, and Jackie DeShannon sang backup vocals). But some things never change. "Morrison's much-publicized disdain for live performance was evident from the start," I wrote, "stalking off the stage after the first few lines" of "St. Dominic's Preview."
For a man with such a brilliant catalog of mystical, insightful and poetic songs to go with a jazzy singing style that is entirely his own,
Morrison's set list for this show was disappointingly pedestrian, relying on blues shuffles and repetitious bar band solos by the members of his group to fill the time. He can be incredibly hip one moment and annoyingly corny the next, when, for example, his three backup singers chime in with square vocal harmonies straight out of Lawrence Welk.
I, for one, would love to see Morrison be less lazy and assemble a band that could do justice to his deepest material. What a gift he could give if he dug into his greatest songs, showing some feeling rather than just going through the motions like he did Friday night, hiding behind his blas} bluesman facade.
He knows his status as a rock legend is secure, that he can get away with pretty much anything. He got a standing ovation, for instance, for just
walking onstage. His mostly middle-aged fans ate it up when he ended with "Brown Eyed Girl" and a rousing encore rendition of "Gloria." Everyone
seemed to go away happy and satisfied. I wonder if he did.
-Paul Liberatore
Setlist:
1. Own Business (Ned and band)
2. Into the Mystic (Shana and band)
3. Wonderful Remark
4. Real Real Gone/You Send Me
5. I Don't Worry About A Thing
6. Stranded
7. Bright Side of the Road
8. Foggy Mountaintop
9. Dead or Alive
10. There Stands The Glass
11. Cleaning Windows/ Be Bob a Lula
12. Sometimes We Cry (duet with Shana)
13. Moondance
14. I Can't Stop Loving You
15. Wild Night (duet with Shana)
16. Don't Strart Crying Now/ Custard Pie
17. Precious Time
18. St. James Infirmary
19. Help Me
20. Brown Eyed Girl ("this is the money song.. I didn't get any")
21. Gloria
Art was strolling around before the show and look who he bumped into! Thanks again for your excellent photos above!
4 comments:
John, You are amazing. Thank you so much for all the work you do! I am addicted to your site.
why does everyone get so worked up at hearing Brown Eyed Girl? It's like having to sit through Sympathy for the Devil. Van should stop pandering.
I had the misfortune to attend Van Morrison's concert last night in Vancouver, BC. To say Mr. Morrison mailed it in would be an understatement, as that would require him to lick a stamp. He plowed through his set list, never pausing for more than 15 seconds between songs; he never once spoke to the audience, who abased themselves by fawning over him; he took time during one song to visibly ream out his bass player, who apparently was playing something wrong; when not singing, he spent his time with his back towards the audience.
I remarked to a friend afterwards that Mr. Morrison either has psychological problems, or is the biggest asshole to ever draw a breath. When I got hom and did some research online, I discovered that his behaviour is par for the course. And this at a concert where I'm sure he hauled at least 1 million bucks out of Vancouver.
As he sped towards the conclusion (90 minutes, to the second) I laughed to my friend that Mr. Morrison is playing like he left the car running outside. After his last song, he turned and left the stage, ignoring the standing ovation. While we stood there like fools, he was, I'm sure, on his way to the airport. And the next batch of suckers.
Wow. it's all I can say. Wow.
Yeah, the typical Van show. I expected the 90 minute set and the non-engagement with the audience. The BIGGEST disapointment however, was the poor sound quality of the show! No bass guitar audible throughout the show, even during bass solos! I thought for sure the soundman running the board whould realize it durring the bass solo! What company ran sound for the show? Who was responsible? Very disapointing to have all the low end rythem missing, especialy durring the bluesy numbers which should have been carried by the bass lines. Apparantly the stage mix was okay for the musicians, but who was the soundman with no ears running the mix for the audience! Van's vocals were also low in parts. Soundman, don't you know how to ride a fader????!!! Poor production, definately would not trust this sound company for future events!
Tom B.
Cleveland, Ohio
Post a Comment