No proselytizer would never be able to utilize the Book of Genesis with as much ease and beauty as Morrison does in "In the Garden." His most overtly spiritual album is deeply felt and sturdily written. (1967) Morrison's debut contains his most palpable hit, the ubiquitous "Brown-Eyed Girl," but "T. Sheets," a nine-minute dispatch from a lover's sickbed (which also happens to be a killer blues guitar workout) showed he was already aiming for something more lofty than pop gold. "Dweller on the Threshold" and "Aryan Mist" are two of his most sublime songs, while "Cleaning Windows" (really about cleaning windows) and "Vanlose Staircase" (a tribute to an actual staircase) find the transcendental in everyday life. is meaty, from the swinging saxophones and bellowing backup singers to the deep human sentiment of "Sometimes We Cry" to nearly apocalyptic visions of "Rough God Goes Riding" and "The Burning Ground" (which Morrison delivers with assertiveness).
The rest fits into his short-lived group Them's excellent proto-garage sound. Yes, the older Morrison is stylistically unadventurous. He stumbles a bit on the two ten-minute-plus numbers, but it's great to hear him once again so taken by the powers of his raw consciousness and the mechanics of his acoustic guitar.
I'm pretty sure "Benediction," covered here, is a tribute to masturbation.
("There's just one thing baby / That comes from above / When push comes to shove / Thank God for self love.") ### 20. The tempo rarely speeds up much, but if you're patient, you can hear Morrison get mean with the world at large on "School of Hard Knocks," and give his manifesto on the power of music on "That's Entrainment." ### 16. (Did he really just say "Call me rain check" in the chorus of one song? ) But the title track is his most catchy single since "Jackie Wilson Said," and though there isn't much to it but a strong melody and some optimistic lyrics, it became an anthem for the Northern Ireland peace process. (2006) Having mined jazz, blues, early rock and roll, pre-rock pop, Irish folk, and some of his own greatest hits to keep up his nearly album-a-year schedule, Morrison turned to vintage country.
On songs like "Evening in June" and "Once in a Blue Moon," he shows great ease with a format that doesn't veer far from classic vocal jazz, and proves he totally could have ruled a old-timey nightclub, even if the songs don't have much of his unique stamp on them. Everything about is lovingly familiar, from the songs of Hank Williams and Bill Anderson to the replication of the classic Nashville sound to a voice that hasn't changed in forty years.
But Morrison moving out of his usual range of genres was enough to make things more interesting than usual. , a messy seventy-seven-minute effort on which Georgie Fame's Hammond organ simmers long and slow through every track.
========================================================================= *\ Shopping cart olor \* ========================================================================= */ .card-icon i /*!The album itself seems like an elemental force, a whirlwind of jazzy saxophones, soulful vocals, and acoustic guitars purring like cicadas.The above-mentioned songs are standouts, but for thirty-eight minutes and fourteen seconds, (1968) Kept out of the studio for months due to a dispute with his former label, Morrison had a backlog of great material, when he finally scored three sessions with some jazz session musicians in New York City in the fall of 1968.Case in point: (2000) You've got to give credit to Linda Gail Lewis, who sings with the same Southern grit as her more famous brother, Jerry Lee; it takes brass to sing alongside a voice as robust and familiar as Morrison's for forty-two minutes. (1973) Here's a phrase that should inspire suspicion: "complete creative control." Morrison cut this record in a home studio, sequestered from record-label influences, so no one could tell him an ode to fall weather didn't need to be ten minutes long, or that he'd sound unintentionally hilarious covering Kermit the Frog's famous "Bein' Green." ### 29. If that sounds corny, that's only because it is.
Still, the two seemed to think rollicking old songs from Bo Diddley, John Lee Hooker, and Jerry Lee himself would work as duets between two old people. While a bunch of supremely talented Irish guys playing national standards like "Star of the County Down" and "She Moved Through the Fair" is never a bad thing, this primer of Celtic-ism doesn't tap far into either party's range. is just a velvety double dose of the remembering-days-of-old-this and deep-spiritual-craving-that that had been making it onto every release.
He did one better and made them both seem like they forever exist in some dream state accessible only through listening to a record.