Poll: Fans Rank Their Favorite Songs on
Born To Sing: No Plan B

A total of 998 people voted and here are the results (song, # of votes & percentage)

Goin' Down to Monte Carlo 278 (27%)
End of the Rainbow 126 (12%)
Open the Door (To Your Heart) 112 (11%)
Mystic of the East 83 (8%)
If In Money We Trust 88 (8%)
Retreat and View 74 (7%)
Pagan Heart 73 (7%)
Born to Sing 65 (6%)
Close Enough For Jazz 59 (5%)
Educating Archie 40 (4%)

08-June-2013
Dunluce Castle 
Antrim, Nothern Ireland

News Letter

Night of Morrison magic at Dunluce

One of Northern Ireland’s living legends was back on home soil at the weekend for two open-air concerts on the north coast.

On Friday and Saturday nights, Van Morrison took to the improvised arena over-looking the ancient ruins of Dunluce Castle.

The Belfast songwriter delighted the sun-drenched crowds – belting out a string of his classic hits from a career spanning six decades.

Music fans began arriving at the site from mid-afternoon each day with a full programme of support artists on stage from 5pm.

On Saturday, US jazz singer Dana Masters and her band set the tone for an evening of high-class entertainment, including Morrison’s daughter Shana who performed her own short set as well as supporting her father on stage throughout.

English blues and soul veteran Chris Farlowe also joined Morrison for a couple of duets before rounding off the evening with his own, powerful rendition of several blues classics.

Thousands came to Dunluce over both nights and the concerts – the first to be held at the historic location – have already been hailed a huge success by those attending.

There was magic in the north Antrim air when two of Northern Ireland’s mystical icons unforgettably joined forces.

Van Morrison playing Duncluce Castle was always likely to produce something special and both delivered in some style.

The two concerts were in keeping with the Belfast legend’s relatively recent more crowd-pleasing displays.

His set was back-to-back Morrison classics from the opening Only a Dream, before he signed off on a high with a rousing rendition of Gloria on Saturday night.

It’s anyone’s guess what re-worked gems from such an extensive back catalogue will get an airing. Ignored for decades by the man himself as only a “pop song”, in recent years Brown Eyed Girl has become a staple of his live repertoire much to the crowds’ delight. Morrison can do no wrong in this form.
-Mark Rainey

Setlist
Celtic Swing
Only A Dream
Precious Time
Whenever God Shines His Light
Baby Please Don't Go
Retreat and View
Sometimes We Cry
Old Black Magic
Blues Medley
Hoochie Coochie Man
Stand By Me
Star of the County Down
Jackie Wilson Said
Brown Eyed Girl
Gloria

07-June-2013
Dunluce Castle 
Antrim, Nothern Ireland

Via Alan L.

Setlist
Celtic Swing
Open The Door (To Your Heart)
Baby, Please Don't Go
Days Like This
Born To Sing
Goin' Down To Monte Carlo
The Way Young Lovers Do
Moondance
Sometimes We Cry
Blues Medley (Rock Me All Night Long [Rock Me Baby?]/Early In The Morning(One Drink))
Hoochie Coochie Man
Stand By Me
I Can't Stop Loving You
Brown Eyed Girl
Jackie Wilson Said
Gloria

1989 Q Magazine Interview

Van Morrison interviewed by Spike Milligan

Written down by Paul Du Noyer

Published in Q Magazine # 35, August 1989

The time has come, the jester said, to talk of many things. Of life and art and 12-man-a-side porridge, of ice cream cones and jazz. Chuckling quietly the grave venerated minstrel nodded assent and together they stepped into the sunlit garden. Later, there would be tea and cucumber sandwiches . . . Paul Du Noyer describes the day that Spike Milligan met Van Morrison . . .

Across and around the sunlit lawn of an English country garden, there romps a spry old gent of 71 years, dressed for the occasion in a floppy black hat. He also sports, we note with some curiosity, a large, pink, penis-shaped false nose, affixed to his face with elastic. To complete this singular scene there is another figure, a man of stockier build, who frowns in concentration while talking into a portable telephone. Within a moment, though, he's spied the spry old gent, loping towards him with a speed that many might think alarming, and abandons his conversation, quaking with mirth.

And that was how Spike Milligan got to have his picture taken with Van Morrison:

"He was just always there," is how the singer recalls the comic's influence over him down the years. "Sunday mornings, if I remember, was The Goons, then Round The Horne, Jimmy Clitheroe, they seemed to be all on a Sunday. The Goons were huge in Ireland; kids I grew up with talked like that all the time." To which Milligan responds in that foggy, moronic voice that Goons specialists will recognise as belonging to Eccles: "My brain hurts!"

The meeting had been Van's idea. A most reluctant customer when it comes to promoting himself and his music through the media, Morrison had made it known he'd find an interview to be a more congenial experience if it was conducted by a fellow artist. He suggested Spike Milligan. Ever since he tuned in to The Goons on the wireless, back in Belfast childhood, Van has revered the other man's work - an aspect of Morrison's passions that few might expect, given the brooding, spiritual intensity that seems to inform so much of his singing. Indeed, the two men have met before (backstage at one of Spike's shows, at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin), while Milligan himself has been impressed by Van's music, especially his collaborations with The Chieftains.

Spike has already featured, unknowingly, in Morrison's work, being the character named in "Boffyflow And Spike", a whimsical short story that Van wrote for the sleeve of his Sense Of Wonder album ("Boffy is covered with leaves completely the buckijit and Spike is in hysterics"); there's an instrumental track, of the same title, on the record itself. The night after this meeting, at a gig in Newport, Wales, Van will again invoke the Milligan name, during a bizarre boogie work-out called Max Wall, in honour of another venerable character in British comedy.

That aside, their two careers have followed long but separate paths, the only apparent con nections being Milligan's early flirtations with jazz bands, and his taste for all things Irish (he's Indian born, but of Irish Catholic upbringing) typified by his 1963 novel Puckoon, set in a slightly surreal Sligo village ("Many people die of thirst but the Irish are born with one.")

Nowadays more active as a writer than a performer, Spike has just completed a new book, a kind of Milligan family history. It follows his much-loved run of war memoirs, now in six volumes, which began with Adolf Hitler: My Part In His Downfall.

Morrison, meanwhile, is to be the subject of a BBC Arena film, for broadcast late in '89, that celebrates his 25 years in the music business (though it's to be doubted if Morrison himself sees his involvement in the "business" as anything else but a painful by-product of what he does). He marks this year with the release of his newest album Avalon Sunset, another instalment in the musical odyssey that started in local Belfast bands, came to wider prominence with the mid-'60s R&B group Them, and subsequently settled into a stream of albums from Astral Weeks (in 1968) and Moondance through to more recent offerings such as No Guru, No Method, No Teacher and 1988's teaming with The Chieftains, Irish Heartbeat.

And so the arrangements were arranged, and Morrison has made the two-and-a-half-hour car trip down to Milligan's home in this secluded corner of Sussex. The veteran japester arises from his sofa to greet his guest, and they settle in for an hour and a half of conversation which Milligan, inevitably, tends to dominate. Indeed, for much of the time, Morrison is unable to speak even if he feels so inclined, as Milligan's reminiscences have the Belfast man doubled up with laughter.

Spike: Van, I must ask you something. Dutch descent. You must be.

Van: No.

S: No? You're an Irishman?

V: Ivan is my name.

S: I see. A Russian! I'm baffled now.

V: No, in Ireland they call me Van. It's East Belfast slang for Ivan, that's all it is.

S: The last time I saw you, you came in the dressing room, you had an ice cream!

V: I can't remember.

S: Yes, I'd had a few, too. It was vanilla. I asked if you could get me one, too. I didn't think there was an ice cream bar for miles. You must have come in with it from another county! Do you find that Irish audiences are more professional? I came on stage with this iron hat on, and straight away from the gallery:"Jaysus, take yer hat off, we can't hear you!" They said, "Give us Danny Boy." I said, I can't, he's in the loo.

My father was born in Sligo, Van, very Irish working class family, very poor. He used to live in a romantic world. He loved a drink, he was full of stories. He came to me one day and said, I've never killed a tiger. I said, Why are you telling me? Well I've got to tell somebody! I thought all fathers were like this lunatic. He used to tell the kids all these stories, about shooting elephants, strangling giraffes by hand. I said, What's all this, Dad? It's all lies isn't it? He said, Oh yes, all lies. But what what would you rather have: a boring truth, or an exciting lie?

Have you seen Paddy Moloney recently?

V: No, d'you know him?

S: Oh yes, he's a rugger fan like me. Are you into rugby, Van? No? Porridge?

V: Oh yes, porridge.

S: Porridge. It's a better game. Twelve-man-a-side porridge! Did you hear about the Tipperary hurling team? They had to leave at half-time to catch their train home. So the other side went on scoring and won the game! Marvellous! Only in Ireland.

V: I played rugby in school, but after I left I forgot all about it.

S: D'you go into pubs at all, in Ireland?

V: Not really, no.

S: I used to go in there just to hear the talking. That's why they produce such good writers, the conversation is so good. I hope television doesn't change that. You come from East Belfast, Van? Was it tough?

V: Not really. How long have you lived down here?

S: Only a year. As you get older you earn less money, and I couldn't afford to keep the house on in London. So I put it up for sale, and they said, We've got this Japanese bloke to buy it, you don't mind him buying the place? I said, It's OK, I'll wire it up to explode on the anniversary of Pearl Harbour.

I listened to your record with The Chieftains. Lovely. I tried to analyse you as a singer. You really are a jazz singer, aren't you?

V: That's right.

S: You must be one of the most adventurous singers, you move through such a spectrum. I'm not grovelling to you, it's just the truth. Thank you, that's a pound! I don't know much about your family life and all that.

V: When we do these things I don't usually talk about anything but the music.

S: Were you ever into jazz? You're such a blues singer.

V: I listened to jazz since I was two years old or something. Who impressed me? Leadbelly, Mahalia Jackson, That's my background. They've been saying for years I'm rock this, rock that, but that's all...

S: I listened to the first track on the new record, I thought for a moment, if I hadn't have known you, this guy might be coloured, the way he sings.

V: I just got into it by accident, started off in skiffle groups when that was happening, went through showbands, whatever was happening. I was just a professional musician, I joined the union, and they'd knock on your door, Can you play in County Mayo on Saturday night for 40 quid? My peer group that I came from, they were into playing, they weren't into making records. Pop music wasn't even reality to me, I had this R&B club, doing in Belfast what Ken Collier was doing here. And then this bloke came over from Decca Records and the whole thing got wound up from there, and we went in the studio, and got involved in the music business. It became like pop. People were telling you, You must do this, or that. All manipulation.

You played trumpet, didn't you?

S: I played trumpet and jazz guitar and piano. In about 1933 through to about 1947. We did shows in the army, ENSA saw us and offered us 20 pounds a week when we got demobbed. So we became the rage of Italy, went round for two years. Then we came back here and fuck all happened, so I just dropped it, worked in a bar and became a scriptwriter.

V: How long was that before The Goons?

S: Oh, a long time. The Goons didn't start until about 1949. I was telling jokes in the bar, and started writing scripts for the BBC, met Peter Sellers, and the chemistry was there.

V: Did you play on any of the singles, like "I'm Walking Backwards For Christmas"?

S: I played guitar on the "Ying Tong Song", in the middle eight. My total record as a musician! With the pop scene as it was, I thought, I bet I can write a hit record, I'll write the worst song in the world, with three chords and no words. And I did it. I sent it to my mother, and wrote, By the way, that's me playing guitar in the middle. So she invited all her cronies in, "Listen to this now." And she'd marked it with a chalk, where the guitar started and where it finished. "Oh he's a powerful good player!" Did you follow any jazz guitarists?

V: I heard Django. My father had a lot of jazz records. Rosetta Tharpe played guitar. The Carter Family, the country stuff, that's what I liked.

S: D'you still enjoy the music, Van, when you're doing it? You sound like you do.

V: Occasionally. I don't do many gigs now, that's why I enjoy it.

S: It's like people, isn't it? Meet them once a month, it's very nice. Meet them every day you start to hate them. Of all the groups I've listened to, you are the most experimental. You keep moving. where will it stop? Will you go into raga? Or Spanish flamenco? They've never married that into pop.

V: Well The Gypsy Kings do.

S: Are you still throbbing about music? Do you lie in bed at night and think, I like that sound in my head?

V: Not really. I think you just have to find different angles if you've been doing music for so long. Georgie Fame's working with me now, and Cliff's on one track on the new album. When did you see The Chieftains last?

S: They came here to Tunbridge Wells about nine months ago. Moloney's a delightful man, such musician. A wonderful feeling of happiness they can convey. Of course they all go to blind tailors don't they? Listening to your singing, Van, you have a sense of excitement. Not many singers have this. That's what you convey.

V: It's drama, isn't it? The blues are drama, that's what I picked up from it. You make things more than they really are, to get it across, I find. It's fantasy, illusion.

S: This is deep stuff, you see. Pop stars don't talk like this. "Yeah, we done a gig. My brain hurts." You have a very strange charisma. I don't feel quite comfortable in your presence. (Morrison laughs) A sense of menace. There's a sense abandonment in your singing, I thought, he doesn't think, he just does it.

V: I don't feel comfortable doing interviews. My profession is music, and writing songs. That's what I do. I like to do it, but I hate to talk about it. You're more interesting to me than I am talking about my music.

S: Too bloody modest by far! Your name is worldwide. Go to Alaska and somebody will say, "Have you heard Van Morrison?" Colossal fame. I'm famous to a certain degree, but I haven't got a showbiz ego. I'm more interested like you are in the actual meaning of things.

V: Why do you think there were so many comedians about in that Goons time, the '50s?

S: Well just after the war, suddenly they were being loosed out of the forces, Jimmy Edwards, Max Bygraves, Frankie Howerd, Peter Sellers, Tony Hancock, and they were all dying to break out.

V: Did you know Hancock?

S: Very difficult man to get on with. He used to drink excessively. You felt sorry for him. He ended up on his own. I thought, he's got rid of everybody else, he's going to get rid of himself. And he did. He phoned me up from Australia the night before he died. He said, It's wonderful here. I could hear he was smashed out of his mind. He said, I've got a great series coming up, you must see it. The next morning he was dead.

V: Do you know Max Wall? He's doing Beckett isn't he?

S: That's right, bloody hard plays to appear in... I've listened to music right up to Schoenberg, but I'm baffled by him and this tonal music. I suppose it's technically very clever but it doesn't give me any emotion. I like Mahler. Do you listen to any classical music?

V: Debussy.

S: Marvellous. Sensuous, descriptive music.

(There is a break while Spike's wife serves coffee and sandwiches.)

V: It's not unloaded coffee.

S: Unloaded coffee! Ha ha! (Munching) Thank Christ you came, I'd have starved otherwise... The only other Van I know is Van Driver.

V: Yeah, he's very popular!

S: Does the touring get you down?

V: I don't tour much any more. I used to when I was about 15. Slept on a bus for a couple of years. Are you ever serious?

S: Yes. I'm being semi-serious with you, because I think you're basically a very serious person, Van, I really do. I'm serious about the environment, about kids, about what goes on, a better world. If you're ever stuck for lyrics, I won a song lyric contest once. I'm an environmentalist, I'm a romantic. I'm not trying to make money out of you, I've got enough money. I like experimenting. If you've got a strange song, that nobody can put words to, throw it at me. I don't want any money for it, I'll just do it for kicks.

D'you know, I write a joke every day. I make them up, I don't know how, like you get songs. Little man owns a jeweller's shop in London. And he gets a pretty girl to work behind the counter. She's very attractive, very sexy, he's about 75. He suddenly starts missing money from the till. And he finally catches her with her hand in the till. And he says, Miss Mollison, I'll have to call the police! She says, No, don't do that! I'm from a very good family. I'm sorry Miss Mollison, I caught you, I'll have to call the police. She says, No, you can take me upstairs and you can screw me. He says, Well, as you put it that way. So he takes her upstairs and he's banging away for two hours but he couldn't make anything happen. So he says, It's no good. I'll have to call the police.

Are you a Proddy, Van? Don't come near me, I don't want to catch it.

V: Basically I'm not really anything.

S: Aren't you? So when I introduce you to people I say, "Here is Not Anything. This is Van Not Anything Morrison. A singer and Not Anything." You must be something.

V: Well theoretically I'm Church Of Ireland.

S: Proddy? Oh Jaysus I won't mention this to my mother. "Dear Mother, I spoke to a Protestant today." "Oh God forgive you, son. Go and confess it." "Father I have sinned." Amazing the power of the Catholic Church. My father went bald very early, and he was so incensed by it that he went to church and prayed for it to come back. I'm certain he went to a priest and confessed, "Dear Father forgive me, I have gone bald." "Go away, my son, buy three wigs and say one Hail Mary."

V: How many characters were in The Goons?

S: About six.

V: Neddy Seagoon?

S: An idiot! We used to give him a little megaphone to speak into. "Hello the world! It's Neddy Seagoon calling the world!" Great stuff. The best joke I did with Eccles, though, was he was in class, they were trying to teach the Theory of Relativity to this idiot. "Now look, Eccles, jump up in the air. You see what happened then? You had to come back down to earth again." "Yeah, I had to come back down to earth." "Yes, why?" "Well, I live there!"

(There's another break, while Van goes out to make a phone call, at which point Spike joins him in the garden for some photographs. Returning to the house, Van describes his dislike for promotional duties such as having his picture taken. The cliche about him, he remarks, is that he's "difficult")

V: You're "difficult" if you know exactly what you want, and what your perimeters are, and your own limitations. If you don't have your act together, then you're not "difficult". Then you're just ordinary Joe Blow, you'll take anything, there's no discernment about what you do.

S: But you are different Van, you're a very strange man.

V: Well I've heard it said that Spike Milligan is an eccentric. I don't know what that means.

S: Well I sleep with my underpants on back to front, because you never know what could happen. I'm not eccentric. I love talking to people, as a writer. You're leaving an indelible mark on me, because of your personality. I've stuck you in my head and one day you'll come out in a book.

I love it so much here I don't need to go out doing gigs now, I've got enough money. I love writing books. I do odd gigs on television, interviews and chat, and all these shows like Guess My Arsehole, and Whose Legs Are These? - all that shit. They're grim, aren't they? Of course when I go on I clown it up and tuck up the show and they never ask me again. I love breaking cliches. People hang on to cliches. The cliche is the handrail of the crippled mind.

Van, do you relax? Do you go out to restaurants? Got a wife? A girlfriend? Or a bloke? Got a good pad in London?

V: Y'see I'm not used to this just talking about anything. I talk about specific things. I'm not into talking about myself with journalists. I talk about my music. The fact is that I do this for a living, and then I have my own life which is separate from that. So Van Morrison makes records, and I'm separate from that. That's what I do for a job. That's the only way I can do it. I can't mix my personal stuff with the job, so I just talk about my job. I'm not interested in selling myself, I just sell my records, my music. So I have to censor everything I say, 'cos if I don't, they just use it against me . . .

S: Anyhow. When you were very young, Van, I was keeping the pop scene going, I was playing the music of my day. Jazz was looked on as barbaric. My father would say, Why do you play that nigger music? But I kept playing it. And now they have jazz critics in The Times, in The Guardian. I was blowing that music real good, man. One of the greatest feelings in the world is to play music, it's total freedom. When I was playing that trumpet I couldn't think about the rates, the rent. It was liberation, self-therapy. And you can induce that therapy in other people.

That's why people sometimes cling on to one kind of music, they love it because it has affected them psychologically, it has transmitted 100 per cent to them...

(There follows a long and rather thoughtful pause)

This silence comes to you courtesy of "What The Fuck Is He Going To Say Next?"

V: No, that was a good piece, that you just said. That would fit in.

26-May-2013
Castleward 
Downpatrick, Nothern Ireland

Via Maurice K.

Setlist
Celtic Swing
Only a Dream
Days Like This
Pagan Heart
Baby Please Don't Go
Precious Time
Brown Eyed Girl
Moondance
Born To Sing
I Can't Stop Loving You
Sometimes We Cry
Enlightenment
Have I Told You Lately 
Help Me
Whenever God Shines His Light
Star of the County Down
Jackie Wilson Said
Here Comes the Night
Gloria

22-May-2013
Perth Concert Hall
Perth, Scotland

Scotsman (Source)
On this experience the Van Morrison live show is akin to a religious experience – it’s lots of older people sitting in near silence having an occasionally transcendental experience.

Not that a sense of respectful awe was misplaced when it came to the deservedly revered Irish singer, but it felt strange to be in the presence of such politeness when the set contained a couple of the finest blues-rock hits.

Unashamed crowd-pleasing was the order of this show, and Morrison’s seven-piece band did an excellent job of recreating the various phases and styles of his career, from the breezy folk rock of Tupelo Honey merged with Why Must I Always Explain? to the light but skilfully performed jazz of Moondance and The Way Young Lovers Do. Throughout, his voice is a potent, rasping growl. Its enduring dynamism is used to best effect on the sublime Pagan Heart – which memorably broke down into a humming solo from Morrison before he frantically signalled for the band to kick in once more – and the humbling delicacy and precision of Into the Mystic. Curses to the person who clapped during its closing, whispered “switch off your mind” mantra and ruined a crystalline moment.

In fact, the only song which didn’t benefit from the weather-beaten, almost scat-like maturity of his voice was the pop perennial Brown Eyed Girl, although it perfectly matched the old Them numbers Baby Please Don’t Go and Gloria. The last song closed the set in epic style, our ever-taciturn host having long since left the stage following a well deserved instruction that we offer a “big hand for the band”, virtually his only words of the evening.
-DAVID POLLOCK

The Courier (Source)
Van Morrison showed just why he is still revered by captivating the audience at Perth Concert Hall.

The legendary singer may not have much interaction with his fans but he made up for it with a scintillating set as part of the Perth Festival of the Arts on Wednesday evening.

From his first song, a jazz introduction to a rousing finale of Gloria, the Belfast-born performer controlled the stage with his presence and marked a welcome return to Perth, where he last played in 2006.

His music has covered many genres from his early days as a blues and R’n’B singer in Belfast. He has recorded blues as well as pop, rock, jazz, folk, gospel, Irish folk and skiffle.

Last night, he showed what a versatile musician he was, playing mainly saxophone but also switching to keyboards and guitar as well as his trusted harmonica.

From my Retreating View, Philosopher’s Stone and Why Must I Always Explain? were standouts before Brown Eyed Girl and Have I told You Lately That I Love You made up a set to remember.
-Paul Reoch

Setlist
Celtic Swing
Only A Dream
Who Can I Turn To
Going Down To Monte Carlo
Retreat and View
Baby Please Don't Go
Pagan Heart
The Philosopher's Stone
Tupelo Honey/Why Must I Always Explain
Moondance
The Way Young Lovers Do
Into The Mystic
Brown Eyed Girl
Have I told You Lately
Whenever God Shines His Light
Gloria

06-May-2013
Cheltenham Jazz Festival 
Cheltenham, England

The Independent (Source)
When Van Morrison invites Gregory Porter to sing “Tupelo Honey” with him as he closes the Cheltenham Jazz Festival, he sums up its open spirit. Grammy-nominated Porter is a barrel-chested, bearded giant with a strange deerstalker for headgear, who as the festival’s tireless Artist in Residence was already unmissable and omnipresent.

The soulful baritone’s barnstorming Saturday evening set had ranged from the defiant ballad “No Love Dying” to the sparely funky, prayerful reverie on Martin Luther King’s assassination “1960 What?” He showed the audience a good-hearted, big-voiced jazz performer can still reach. The running, karate-kicking jump of joy he gave after an earlier song recalled Van Morrison in his prime. Morrison, watching and, festival staff claimed, actually smiling in the wings, clearly thought the same.

Morrison’s own soulful freedom song “Tupelo Honey” was a perfect choice for the pair, begun by him declaring with uncharacteristic modesty, “This is the part where I hide behind my guitar”. They traded phrases in rare, thrilling harmony. Morrison was in playful and demanding form throughout his set, issuing peremptory commands to his band and blowing his own sax in what was largely a jazz show: “Moondance” carried echoes of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”. A suite of songs finishing with last year’s “Born to Sing” wasn’t in his old visionary mode. A bullish Morrison was standing right here in the moment.

This festival’s centre wasn’t, though, in the Big Top where the stars performed, but the Georgian square where several venues sat amongst free music, food, drink and record stalls. The locals strolling slowly through it got a contact hit of jazz as an approachable, positive force at the heart of their town.

Lianne La Havas is amongst the pop headliners with slivers of jazz in their DNA. When she sings “Empty” with just a guitar, she shows she could sing just jazz if she wished, amongst the rock, soul and confessional singer-songwriting which dominates her lightly appealing music. Like the exuberant, anything goes creator of “circus swing” Gaby Young, and Mercury nominee Kit Downes’ electronic-tinged big band Troyk-estra, La Havas has inviting human warmth. Seven-times Grammy-winning vibes player Gary Burton and his quartet have that as much as anyone, playing intensely skilled jazz with easygoing, companionable delight. The hum of pleasure as his crowd left was constant in this corner of the Cotswolds last week.
-NICK HASTED

This is Gloucestershire (Source)
Review: Van Morrison, Cheltenham Jazz Festival
IT was a glorious May evening to stroll into Montpellier Gardens, low warm sun and blossom and jazz.

And to then be engulfed in the warm, rich sounds of Van Morrison and his band in the Big Top provided the perfect end the day.

His opening number, with Van on saxophone, set the scene for the evening which placed jazz at the core of the set. With traditional-style jazz breakdowns focusing on the skills of his musicians, it was a bright sound that brought the sunshine into the tent.

His voice remains as magnificent as ever, combining clarity, power and a rich sound with subtle tenderness.

As ever Van Morrison brought his own enigmatic quality to the stage. With his dark glasses and hat, he makes no effort to engage with the audience directly. He lets the music speak for itself.

And it is perhaps that distance he maintains that makes the emotion all the more powerful. His voice, lyrics and arrangements build subtley, draw in the listener and become engulfing.
Moondance featured surprisingly early in the set, a smooth jazzy version with instrumental breakdown and engaging dialogue between the brass.

Days Like This with deep harmonies and a harp-like guitar riffs and felt like a warm bath of music. Please Don't Go marked a change of pace, before he invited Gregory Porter to join him on stage for a magical and soulful duet for Tupelo Honey.

There were moments when the performance retained a rawness of a jazz improvisation. He described it briefly as a 'workshop' and at times he surprised his band with sudden set changes, and directed them musically with a clarity of purpose of someone who has been performing for almost half a century.

His band were though incredibly polished and provided him with a solid backing of musical talent. Brown-eyed Girl, which he described as the "little calypso song" was given the jazz treatment and Whenever God Shines His Light was given a soulful light touch.

It was a magnificent performance, subtle and powerful and a great end to the Jazz Festival.
A rocking and prolonged version of Gloria allowed the band to shine, and Van Morrison to slip off the stage in his own understated way with his vocal "It's too good to stop now" still resonating.
-Victoria Temple

Setlist
Celtic Swing
Only A Dream
St. James Infirmary
Moondance
Who Can I Turn To
Magic Time
Baby, Please Don't Go
Tupelo Honey (w/Gregory Porter)
It's All In The Game
Brown Eyed Girl
That's Life
Whenever God Shines His Light
Help Me
Gloria

07-April-2013
Knightsbrook Hotel 
Trim, Ireland

Photo via Pablo

Set list

Celtic Swing

Close Enough for Jazz

Magic Time

Only a Dream

Brown Eyed Girl

Baby Please Don’t Go

Here Comes the Night

Fair Play

Days Like This

Precious Time

Have I Told You Lately

Moondance

I Get a Kick Out of You

Foggy Day in London Town

Help Me

Jackie Wilson Said

17-March-2013
Europa Hotel 
Belfast, Northern Ireland

Photo via Maurice K.

Brendan sent us this review

This was the second night of Van’s St. Patrick’s weekend stint in the Europa and, as on the previous night, Shana Morrison opened with a short set. This time, however, she did all Irish songs given the day that was in it and was accompanied acoustically by Paul Moore on bass and Dave Keary on guitar with Chris White joining them on tin whistle for the last number, The Blacksmith which really livened up the audience before the main event.

Bang on 9.00 pm Van hit the stage playing saxophone on Celtic Swing before doing a cover of I Get a Kick Out of You during which he gave a little kick(not of Caravan proportions unfortunately). Making Whoopee and Open the Door to Your Heart followed before Van informed us he was going to change things around a bit.What followed was (to my ears anyway) The Showstopper of the two concerts-a magnificent version of Thanks for the Information on which Van’s vocals were brilliant,  aided by Dave Keary’s terrific chunky guitar sound and the brass section coming in and out to supplement the sound beautifully. A young lady at the table who was seeing Van for the first time turned to me when the song had finished and ecstatically exclaimed that it was unbelievable. It was indeed! 

A fine duet between Van and Shana on Sometimes we Cry was followed by a country cover, Things have Gone to Pieces. Van then moved to piano to deliver a long version of Going Down to Monte Carlo. This song is developing well during the live performances and becoming a bit of a crowd favourite. 

Next up was another high point- a long version of All in the Game during which Van shared his affection for journalists and the Fleet Street Press in particular with us(very moving) before doing a monologue on famous people perceived to be grumpy who in reality are not and others who escape such perceptions but who probably are. 

Covers of I Can’t Stop Loving You and That Old Black Magic(both with Shana) were followed by the greatest hits numbers Moondance and Brown Eyed Girl. Then it was time for the blues as Van and the band ripped through Baby Please Don’t Go and Help Me (at the end of which Van exited the stage but continued to sing on in the wings for another couple of minutes as the band played on frantically, not sure whether he was coming or going). It was terrific! I was surprised that Van hadn’t included Star of the County Down (given the day that was in it) but when he returned for the encore he put things right and played it followed by an explosive Gloria with the band getting to express themselves with extended solos. The crowd had by now abandoned their tables and surged to the front of the stage to join in. Van asked for “a big hand for the band”and then he was gone after 1 hour 45 minutes of exhilarating music.

I wish St.Patrick’s Day could be like this all the time!

-Brendan Hynes


Setlist
Celtic Swing
I Get A Kick Out of You
Making Whopee
Open The Door (To Your Heart)
Thanks For The Information
Sometimes We Cry
Things Have Gone To Pieces
Goin' Down To Monte Carlo
It's All In The Game
Old Black Magic
I Can't Stop Loving You
Moondance
Brown Eyed Girl
Baby, Please Don't Go
Help Me
Star of the County Down
Gloria

16-March-2013
Europa Hotel 
Belfast, Northern Ireland

City Sound Inertia (Source)
VAN MORRISON
EUROPA HOTEL, BELFAST, NORTHERN IRELAND
MARCH 16, 2013

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Europa Hotel. Tonight, this is the best place in the world to be.”

Truer words were never spoken. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I discovered Van Morrison would be playing a) during my trip to Ireland, b) on St. Patrick’s Day weekend, c) in his hometown of Belfast, d) in a tiny 250-seat venue and e) that I was able to get a ticket. Granted, it was £140, but seriously, was there ever a question?

It was an eclectic crowd, pretty much the norm for a Van show. Some were dressed to the nines to honor the occasion, some looked to have paid nine dollars for their duds. My hopes, though, were that they were all actual fans who would appreciate the event properly, not just there to be part of something. I guessed that I might be the only single at my table, but my seatmate was Alan, who had flown over from Denmark for his first Van concert, a definite fan. I thought perhaps I’d traveled the furthest, from Northern California, but apparently there was someone there from Australia. More fans, a good sign.

Shana Morrison was there to help out pop and she “opened” the show with an abridged version of the band, doing three quick numbers, including “And It Stoned Me” and a kickass “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher.” With barely a break, the rest of the band was onstage and broke into the intro for “Only A Dream.” With a simple “Van Morrison” from one of the band, the man appeared—and magic happened.

Morrison has been doing these smaller gigs for a year or so now, in and around Ireland and the UK, and they’re apparently suiting him quite well. He says he’s performing his work “as it was meant to be heard,” and tonight seemed quite comfortable and at ease with both the band and the audience. He interacted with band members, rather than just calling the tunes and pointing for solos. He introduced songs and spoke to the audience, at one point even going on a bit of a rant about how some “grumpy” people (including the Queen) manage to get away with being grumpy. In short, tonight we got the happy Van. Big bonus!

The music was nonstop. As a member of Van’s band, you’ve got to be paying attention at all times. He doesn’t work from a setlist, and when he calls the tune and counts it off, you’ve got to be ready to go—lest you get one of those “looks.”

The second tune out of the gate was “Makin’ Whopee,” with Shana adding some nice interaction to a very jazzy version of the song. He went to the new album, Born To Sing—No Plan B, for “Open The Door To Your Heart,” and a bit later for “Goin’ Down To Monte Carlo.” He introduced “Monte Carlo” by saying, “This is off the new CD. It’s not being promoted at the minute, so who cares?” Ah, Van, still at odds with the music industry…

There were classics, to be sure. After a brief discussion with the keyboard player, he introduced “Got To Go Back” by saying, “If this doesn’t work, it’s your fault!” The whole band had a part in a gorgeous rendition of “Standing In The Garden,” and the beginnings of “Beautiful Vision” got a gasp and a whoop from the audience.

There were also the covers that Morrison makes his own. His country side came out with the Don Gibson classic “I Can’t Stop Loving You.” And his introduction of, “We’re getting too serious here, I’ve gotta get back to the Las Vegas set,” preceded “That Old Black Magic.” (Glenn Miller, eat your heart out.)

There were two high points in the show for me. The first came five songs in, when Morrison did an incredible rework of “Wavelength,” dropping the speed of the original a bit, twisting it into a jazzy shuffle and mesmerizing the crowd. He followed that with “Sometimes We Cry,” from 1997’s The Healing Game. Brian Kennedy and Georgie Fame, a couple of Morrison cohorts, did some of the vocal work on the original, but Van and Shana have been performing it live together recently. I had heard about it, but never heard it. Father and daughter were never better together.

The other high point ended the show. The evening was seasoned mostly with a jazz feel, but as a lover of Morrison’s blues side, I was thrilled to hear the intro guitar licks of “Baby Please Don’t Go.” Van gave credit to Big Joe Williams, who penned the song back in the 30’s, and then tore through alternating harmonica licks and vocals with a vengeance. And with a nod to Sonny Boy Williamson, he said, “We’re gonna stay with the blues here,” and went directly into a 10-minute version of his live-show staple, “Help Me.”

Morrison left the stage, which usually signals the end of the show, but the unmistakable three-chord intro of “Gloria” brought the man back out for one more. As much as I’ve disliked the version of “Gloria” that I’ve heard at other Van shows, this one was special. Everybody got up from their tables and made their way to the front of the room, thereby decreasing the size of an already small space. It was like seeing the band at the corner pub. The fans loved it, the band members loved it, and I think I even saw Van himself smile a bit. No really—I think I did.

We got the standard 90-100 minute show length, but under these circumstances, at this venue, on this night, it seemed much, much longer.

Pinch me.
-Bob Meline

Setlist
Only A Dream
Making Whopee
Open The Door (To Your Heart)
Got To Go Back
Wavelength
Sometimes We Cry
Beautiful Vision
Goin' Down To Monte Carlo
Ol' Black Magic
It's All In The Game
In The Garden
Enlightenment
Whenever God shines His Light
I Can't Stop Loving You
Baby, Please don't Go
Help Me
Gloria

Shana Morrison Returns To Bob Weir's Internet Show Tonight

Tune in tonight and listen to Bob Weir & special guest Shana Morrison on Weir Here Live from TRI Studios.

Listen To Shana Morrison Tonight

Tune in tonight and listen to Bob Weir & special guest Shana Morrison on Weir Here Live from TRI Studios.

St Patricks Weekend Festival

Belfast, Northern Ireland

March 16 & 17, 2013 Europa Hotel, Belfast, Northern Ireland

20-January-2013
Culloden Estate & Spa
 Belfast, Northern Ireland

Thanks to Pablo for photo

Setlist (Thanks Michael S.)
Celtic Swing
Only a Dream
Beauty of Days Gone By
Going Down to Monte Carlo
End of the Rainbow
Have I Told You Lately
Can't Stop Loving You
Unchained Melody
Philosophers Stone
Pagan Heart
Dead or Alive
Drumshambo Hustle
Moondance
Jackie Wilson Said
Bright Side of the Road
Brown Eyed Girl
Help Me
Gloria