29-March-2022
Wizink Center
Madrid, Spain
Mail BD (Source vis Google Translate)
There are geniuses who will never give up being figures. Van Morrison is passing through 76 autumns, a rather important age, but he does not seem willing to modify his most sacrosanct customs or to sweeten his character. In their long-awaited visit to Madrid’s WiZink, delayed a year and a half between pandemics and various ailments, the musicians appear at 8:29 p.m. to welcome their leader at 8:30 p.m. with the precision of an atomic clock. From then on, the magic will show up only intermittently, but absolutely stunning when it happens. And, oh, what would become of us and of life without those little moments, without those flashes of fullness in which, as we know from Days Like This“the pieces of the puzzle seem as if they are starting to fit together”.
Skepticism is very lawful, for the record. And the Northern Irishman has not stopped offering reasons for it lately. The seven albums that he has been stringing together since 2016, all of them very long and even one double, are no more than very pleasant catalogs of soul and blues as impeccable as they are scarce in relief. misanthropy —when not antipathy— that distill some lyrics of Latest Record Project, his 2021 album, are a difficult dish to eat. And even more creepy is produced by his proud pandemic denialism, with which he can no longer be considered a grumpy man, but a boozer. And with all of that said, just listening to the memorable versions of And It Stoned Me or cleaning windows who left us on Tuesday would already have been worth our journey through this valley of smiles and tears.
It is curious that a man so harsh, hieratic and distant has turned the whole of his work into a pure balm. The Healing Game, like the title of one of her most lovable albums, encompassed classics that are now in their fifties (Baby Please Don’t Go), old-school superlative readings (Got My Mojo Workingthat I Can Tell by Bo Diddley), favorites of the new century (Magic Time, Precious Time) and even cathartic duets with her vocalist, the notable and little-known Elle Cato, to whom she allows a fair share of protagonism for the wonderful Someone Like You and Carrying a Torch.
But Morrison, we’ve known forever, He is not a friend of making things easy. It opens with four recent and barely known (although double-agent have all the chicha of his substantial writing), considerably limits the torrent of decibels and, of course, renounces any giant screen that makes it easier for the 5,400 attendees to contemplate what is happening on stage. The scenery is equal to zero and the lighting is static (with that, not with X). Oh, don’t look for great aristocrats among your seven companions either, but rather hard-working and skilled artists. It’s not that the times of Georgie Fame and Pee Wee Ellis are already remote; is that we can’t even take comfort in a Joey DeFrancesco.
AND despite everything, ladies and gentlemen, the thing works. The first big hit of the night, Days Like Thisbursts into a reinvented and even reharmonized reading, but not unrecognizable, like that man from Duluth you are thinking of. Someone Like Younocturnal and velvety when we met her in 1988, accelerates at the stroke of swing. And the glory (or GLORY) we end up caressing when it starts And It Stoned Methe opening theme of moon dance (1970), which our beloved George Ivan had not included in the repertoire for centuries.
During those minutes, word, the spirit of the Caledonia Soul Orchestra, perhaps the best accompanying band that times have known, gravitates between the foundations of the pavilion. It is not a lasting sensation, because the one from Belfast is in charge of dynamiting bridges with the public, tenacious in his refusal to greet, to the brief “hello”, to a tiny gesture of complicity. With him, our expectations are always as high as the roots of his racanerÃa. Because there are dozens of songs that we would have killed to listen to and they weren’t there and they weren’t expected. Because we know in advance that he will exit at twenty-two zero zero, with the precision of an Olympic stopwatch. And because we refused to count the additional 10 minutes that their musicians granted us as final entertainment, in what almost seemed like a formula to promote staggered evacuation.
Those who treated him say that the author of Astral Weeks has gained in cordiality, at least within its parameters. He has shed 15 kilos from himself and on Tuesday, after solving the sound check in a sigh, he spent the afternoon peacefully lounging in a WiZink dressing room. Of course, he is no longer that feline that roared in the imperishable Listen To The Lion, half a century ago now, but just about any singer on the planet would swoon over a voice like Van Morrison’s in 2022. And yes, he still makes us cringe when he blows that rough, asthmatic sax that defies any academy. That’s why we don’t know whether to thank him eternally for the moments of ecstasy or to move, uncomfortable, when he activates the autopilot without too much dissimulation.
To add insult to injury, the 19th song of the night, down to joyreminded us that this preciousness for the film Belfast had succumbed at the Oscars against Billie Eilish’s candidacy, making good the classic comparisons between gods and brothers-in-law. That really was a bad joke, and not the one with the slap. There remains the consolation of suspecting that the interested party will have been the one least affected by the verdict, according to his detachment from worldly circumstances.
We are not going to change him at this point: enough that he compromises to finish with his two most iconic titles, brown eyed girl and Glory, with moderate affection and even briefly illuminating the track to corroborate the joy of the parish. Richard Dunn’s old Hammond organ crackled to lead the way for guitarist Dave Keary, once musical director of Lord Of The Dance. And the poor mortals, what the hell, we smiled. Oh, friend Van: if it weren’t for these little moments.
Setlist (Thanks Pablo)
Caledonia Swing
Latest Record Project
Deadbeat Saturday Night
Double Agent
Days Like this
Someone Like You
And It Stoned Me
These Dreams Of You
Precious Time
Carrying A Touch
Dead Or Alive
Cleaning Windows
Magic Time
Symphony Sid
Laughing & Clowning
Broken Record
Baby Please Don't Go / Got My Mojo Working
I Can Tell
Down To Joy
Think Twice Before You Go
Help me
Brown Eyed Girl
Gloria
Big Hand for The Band!
Chris White (Saxophone)
Dave Keary (Guitar)
Paul Moore (Bass)
Richard Dunn (Keyboards)
Teena Lyle (Percussion)
Colin Griffin (Drums)
Elle Cato (Vocals)
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