Van Morrison has built a career entirely on his own terms — mostly by
ignoring everyone else’s terms, shredding them, and then setting the scraps on
fire while humming a mystical Celtic melody. But Van? Van just is. There’s a whole Van Morrison aesthetic
that shows up across his albums: that majestic, mystical, “I have communed with
the ancient spirits of Belfast and they gave me a saxophone” vibe. The musical
extravagance, the lyrics that make you think deep thoughts you didn’t plan on
having such as “Wait, am I supposed to be enlightened right now?”— it’s all
part of the gravitational pull.
So imagine my face when I looked at his ’70s discography and realized those albums — the ones containing absolute classics — never grazed the US top 10. How did Wavelength or St. Dominic’s Preview not chart higher? Did the charts get lost? Did someone accidentally file Van under “Mystical Weather Events” instead of “Music”? Was FM radio too busy blasting songs about trucks, heartbreak, and questionable fashion choices?
He’s had three US top‑10 albums since 2008 — and I’ll confess, I don’t own them and haven’t heard them. Which means I’m basically the guy yelling “Justice for Van!” while simultaneously contributing nothing to the cause, -I’m part of the problem, but let’s not dwell on that.
And yes, he defiantly (correct spelling, correct attitude,
correct level of eyebrow lift) was not a singles artist. Case in point: this weeks mail‑order arrival — a single I genuinely thought I already owned, proving once
again that my memory is basically a block of Swiss cheese left out in the sun.
I have no idea how Warner Brothers
thought this track was going to chart. Don’t get me wrong — it’s fantastic, with
those trademark vocals that sound like he’s simultaneously preaching,
philosophizing, and gently reminding your soul that it hasn’t done its
spiritual homework.
But if you were around in the late ’70s, you remember FM radio. And FM radio was… not this. Not even close. Throw in the spiritual angle and the thing sank faster than a cinder block tied to a crooked politician who thought he could swim his way out of trouble.
Majestic? Absolutely. Brilliant? Without question. Chart‑friendly? Only if the charts suddenly decided to embrace transcendental mysticism, powered enlightenment and the general vibe of a man who refuses to be rushed.