MSN Interview: Out on the Slipstream

MSN: Out on the Slipstream:
'Astral Weeks': Revisiting a Classic

Van Morrison revisits the genesis for his classic 1968 album, "Astral Weeks,' and its 2008 rebirth in a live concert setting.

MSN: The Hollywood Bowl concerts marked the 40th anniversary for the original release of "Astral Weeks," but you've emphasized that you view these new live concert settings as an entirely new project. How are you approaching this material anew?

Van Morrison: These songs were mostly written before '68 over a long period of time -- and it was a lot of really hard work, structuring and forming the story lines. The songwriting is complex. This material has been heralded in over 200 publications as the "Best This" and "Top Album That" and I thought I would finally get around to doing the album like I had always wanted to do [it], but never did 'cause I did not have the money to -- with full orchestration.

I had written some string arrangements I wanted utilized onstage in a live situation. I approach this music like every other piece of music: It's fresh and I make it new with a tweak here and a tweak there. The dynamics of the compositions allow for this music to have something added here and there and they become all new in approach and meaning, as the meaning is with the listener, it means whatever they want it to mean. The lyrics are movielike and fictional stories, so it can all be changed around to create [a] multidimensional listening experience, which is one thing for one person and another thing for another person and something diametrically different to me. This is what song craft is -- to take something and go where it takes you.


When did you decide you would revisit the album? You've mentioned the passing of the great Connie Kay, the Modern Jazz Quartet drummer that anchored the rhythm section in the studio sessions, as one catalyst. Had you thought about revisiting the album earlier?

Not really, but the dynamics of the music are really challenging, complex and interesting and I thought I probably should go ahead and do this record right like I had wanted it from the beginning. The arrangements had a lot of room for me to do what I do with them and create a fuller sound. Live is the very best way for these songs to come alive. I did not want any engineer messing with the raw, in-the-moment sound from the stage, and that is why this "Astral Weeks Live" record has a lot of alchemy going on. The life of it, the heartbeat of it, is in the moment -- it comes alive. On this record, I was not going to let some engineer come in and mess with the original sound. I wanted this live, raw and alive. I think I accomplished what I wanted with this record. It comes alive in a big way for me. I hope this translates to the listeners.

After 40 years of not doing most of these songs, I only held one rehearsal before the Hollywood Bowl shows. I think a lot of people do not realize there was only one short rehearsal for the band before I hit the stage. I think this gave me a bit of an edge this music required to come out like it did.


For the original sessions, you enlisted jazz masters such as Kay, bassist Richard Davis and guitarist Jay Berliner and encouraged them to embark on extended improvisations. By all accounts, the core of those tracks -- rhythm section, vibes, guitars and flute -- was cut live. How did you balance that spontaneity with your underlying goals as a songwriter?

On the original, just like the new one, we all just went in and did it. That is why there is a presence in both records that is hard to explain. On the original session, I was this 22 year old and we were just all thrown in a room and the "record" button was pushed and we went with it, just like at the Hollywood Bowl.

But the original sessions were basically just jam sessions and I worked my voice around all the jamming going on with my own voice in sort of its own jam session to make it work. The only one who actually somewhat followed my vision and arrangements on both records was Jay Berliner. He is a brilliant guitarist with an ear and aptitude to actually follow what I am doing, unlike most others who have to literally wing it.

"Astral Weeks" was received by many listeners as a song cycle. Yet you've also stressed that the material was written during the course of several years, and that a key force here was allowing stream of consciousness to shape much of the writing, especially on the title song: The very opening line points toward that "channeling" that you've discussed over the years. Can you tell us how you discovered and nurtured that instinct?

It's the organic, natural process for me. I think it's essential to have a channeling process to be a songwriter. It's an instinct for the correlations and dynamic and the telling of a storybook melody that will take some people one place and others somewhere else. And sometimes it is too sophisticated for others who simply do not have the aptitude to "get it," so they will not have the experience of being on a mystical journey with it.

I guess it is instinct. How does one hone in on instinct rather than by knowing how to be, how to see, how to absorb impressions around one, filter it through the subconscious into writing, putting the impressions to paper? It's knowing and hearing how to craft structure and how to create space. This is the place where one can feel the silence, and hear what may or may not be there. Some people have called it magic. I call it the alchemy, essential for a songwriter and a wordsmith who is swirling and driving. And then sometimes a subtle melody driving the song home, wherever that may or may not be.
Your studio recordings with the group Them and on your own up to that point were dominated more by blues and R&B, leading some listeners to regard the jazz elements of "Astral Weeks" as a new direction for you. Was that a fair assessment? Or was jazz already part of your vocabulary?

No, that is not accurate. I just do what I do and I play what I feel like playing, where I am led to go. I do not require a label or an adjective to describe any place I go musically. Those are just useless labels that serve no purpose to my music. It is what it is and it is not predetermined by me like 'Oh, I think I want this blues' or 'Oh, this is jazz'. Actually most times, it's all of the styles combined! And there are a lot of classical elements to "Astral Weeks" and no one seems to want to click in to that fact.

The studio version of "Astral Weeks" received only checkered commercial acceptance here in the United States on its first release but has since achieved legendary stature. Given that the album was reportedly cut in just a handful of sessions, did you know when you finished that you had, in fact, realized a classic?

Actually the original [and] this new live version were both cut in one take, one session, one shot.

I did not know I had done anything but a lot of hard work in both regards. As a serious writer and songsmith, I never worry about whether what I have done or created meets any expectation but my own. How could I and be genuine or authentic? Otherwise, it would ruin whatever magic streams come in and out of my consciousness. Channeling has to be an organic process not contrived or forced.

At the Bowl, you not only combined the classics from "Astral Weeks" with signature songs from other periods in your career but also changed the set list order on both nights. Were this tied to the goal of treating the songs as living things and not museum pieces?

I did not have such a set goal. I subconsciously chose the order as I see that it created a story line that ended with "Listen to the Lion." I guess the lion is me. I require an audience that follows with sophistication and an audience that knows how to listen.

You've documented the Holllywood Bowl shows on both CDs and DVD. Given your long-standing passion for live shows, as well as the now substantial catalog of live Morrison recordings, can we expect any more projects that use a specific album as a touchstone?

No. As I said, this was not a wholly conceived or predetermined. It's just what I wanted to do and then I thought, let's film and see what it looks like. I liked what I saw for a change, so I am releasing the concert film. It's shot like a major motion picture, not just a hokey, cut-rate DVD. We added some interview footage. ... Since I do not like interviews and have shunned the press, I thought this is now the time I give my word. My word, I think, should trump all the false books that have been written as none even wanted myY participation about me. I thought this music is sophisticated and maybe the weary world might like to have something complex to listen to that brings them back from the place that a brainwashed society has perhaps lead them into while they were too busy working and making ends meet and worrying about the inevitable. This music can take you wherever the listener chooses to go with it, if that part people can find.

If you were going into a studio tomorrow to cut the "Astral Weeks" songs for the first time, and you could tap any musician, past or present, to be in that band, who would you pick?

Me, God and hopefully intuitive direction.

You've cited one reason for revisiting these songs as the relative neglect that Warner Bros. Records gave the studio release of "Astral Weeks." Is that accurate?

I do not really care what Warner Bros. does or did not do. Why should I? They had a chance to do something and to make something of it. But like all record companies and people with bad intentions or tunnel vision, they choose to neglect and take advantage of people, particularly young people who do not understand the machinations of the con. The music business is not about music. It's a con and will always be a con that gets worse. The music business ... could care less for the most part about authentic creativity and music. It's set up to kill every ounce of magic just with the endless con games played over and over on the artists. It was a bad joke then and a bad joke still. It just gets more obvious. Their business models are set to fail until they realize quality is really important -- omnipotent, in fact.

You've long been a proud, even stubborn, iconoclast willing to steer outside the safe margins of radio and fashion. On the evidence of your catalog, it seems you've had the last laugh: Your entire output has remained in print. What could young artists take away from that?

What do you mean "outside of fashion"? My suits are made by the tailor for the Sultan of Brunei!

I will always have the last laugh, because I do not have to follow the social conformity that most people compromise and do. And I do not listen to any ideas but my own. That is the only way to stay true to your music. It's a long fight. You must hold your ground because the business is built so that every part of your ground can be stolen from you right in front of your very eyes. Do not comply. Do not conform. Stay true to your own instinct. No deal is a good deal. There are always snakes and vipers in every area of the music business. From selling your T-shirt, to selling your record, to the agents, who are all highway robbers, who want what you earn for doing next to nothing, to show people who will take the hat off your head ... if you do not have it nailed on. Keep your eyes open and if it sounds too good to be true -- it is. Everyone is a fast talker, and like I wrote in my song, "Talk Is Cheap."


Starting in the early '70s, you took steps to own your recordings. This was at a time when only a handful of popular musicians were willing to gamble on their futures by insisting on that level of control -- a short list that included Ray Charles and James Brown on the R&B side, and Paul McCartney and Steve Miller in the rock world. Did record company execs or managers try to talk you out of that?

Of course, they are all so trained in doublespeak to the point it would sound like they were giving you something when actually they were giving it all to themselves. That is why artists of my generation tend to feel stolen from -- we were. These people were controlled by the record companies, who never care for the artist. It's what they can make off the back of the artist. Anyone thinking of a career in music needs to heed this. Anyone already in it, read your contracts 100 times in different ways and see what it says rather than what someone else tells you it says. Even your lawyer, got to watch them too, because a lot of them are buddies with the very record company that seeks to own you and your work product under lock, stock and barrel.

If you are lucky, you will come out on the other end.

At a time when the "record business," as it existed when you were forging your career, is crumbling and conventional wisdom forecasts the end of physical records and the decline of the album, what's your sense of the future? You've continued to sell albums despite those gloomy prophesies. And your catalog is built on albums that would appear to draw strength from strong thematic and musical pillars.

Well, that is a loaded question. The music business is not the music business. They do not care about music, never will. The days of [executives such as Atlantic Records co-founder] Ahmet Ertegun are gone and there is no one there to take his place. ... They try to brainwash people into digital. The younger kids are fine with downloads, but there is ... a world of people out there who know the value of a CD. It's the very best value for money entertainment there is.

The record companies are too lazy to manufacture CDs. That is their problem. And they have signed too many people who cannot sing and do not understand music in the least and this is the way record companies have caused their own demise.

To the young people: Be your own boss, be your own agent and be your own manager. This way you cannot lose. Oh, and be your own producer lest you fall for the fad of a big-shot producer who could change your song according to his vision, not yours. How could they possibly know what your intuitive vision is?
-Sam Sutherland