Sunday, November 8, 2009

Van on the Eastern Seabord (Northern Part) - part 4

At the Wamu


My ticket says An Evening With Van Morrison. Good, I am in the right place at the right time. Well almost the right time. No sooner do Sean, Donna and I get inside the WaMu than the lights start to flicker. I guess we’re late. We get Donna going in the right direction, Sean’s gone on ahead, and I’m pretty much sprinting through the foyer at this point, the lights still flickering. I like the part when I get to the usher, who says to me, “Down there, on the floor.” Compared with last night’s “Up the stairs and to your right,” it was music to my ears.

I’d come to the conclusion earlier today that the real reason I didn’t feel like I was part of the music last night in Waterbury had nothing to do with the quality of the show and everything to do with my hearing. Sitting upstairs in the balcony in Waterbury, I was feeling like the music didn’t fill the space. And basically, blaming the music for that. But when Donna turned in her seat as the lights went up on Gloria, and said wasn’t that the best show ever, it got me thinking. It’s not the music that’s the problem, it’s my hearing. I suffer from that mp3 disease – where the top and bottom ends drop off.

I don’t think sitting in the third row, directly in front of the speaker here at the WaMu is what the doctor would order, but all I could think at the time was, I’m not likely to have any trouble with the music filling up the space tonight – it’s going to come blasting out of that very large speaker right there and plow right into me. What’s a girl to do, but sit back and wait for the ride to begin.

I’m going to be a puddle by the end of this, I just know it.

We’ll worry about my hearing later.

I’ve got my buddy Sean sitting beside me, and both of us are waiting for Van to walk on and sit at the piano, which is all of about 15 feet in front of us; I could take piano lessons, I’m so close.

Turns out, all that flickering was for nothing. Or something that turned into nothing. We probably sat there for 15 minutes, when the lights went down and the band came out. Then came the announcer, Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Van Morrison!!!!! cheeeeeeer, but no Van. And still no Van, and the crowd stops cheering, the crowd gets a little uneasy, and finally he comes on, to a nice, warm welcome and takes us into Northern Muse.

I won’t stop to chat about each song, but this one deserves a special mention. The way he’s taken this song out during these eight months has been ear candy. Always a lovely song, it has grown as the band has grown and could take it on behind Van. In late September, Van was digging deep inside to get the words out, and they’d come out as this deep growl, and now that growl’s gone deeper down, like he’s digging a trough with it – Sean calls it the lion inside – deep, deep down in the heart of Down. Tonight, he leans to the left, like Ray Charles at the piano, and yells out, Turn me up! and the show is about to take off.

Brown Eyed Girl is good because I get to see Van play at the piano for one more song – this is the best view I’ve got of him all night, so I milk it for all it’s worth. And that takes us to Fair Play, which is the stunner in the set and has been since he first played it in Bristol. Tonight at the WaMu, I’ve got a bird’s eye view of Jay, the first time I’ve actually been on the left side of a venue since way back at the Hollywood Bowl. He was good then, and he’s good now. There’s this one part … after the round of solos that float around the room, those big swells of Terry and Michael’s cellos behind Tony, Ritchie on flute, Paul on piano, some soft, mellow jazz from David and Bobby, even Rick gets a turn on the bongos … where Van is singing quietly, taking a bit of a solo on his guitar and that leads into the most beautiful of Jay moments, getting Van to go Yea, right! Said with some enthusiasm, I might add. Big hand for the man for bringing this song out to test it live. It was a song worth singing, every night leading to new territory, and tonight it covered a fair bit of it.

And sure as shooting, The Mystery is next. Nothing new or startling there. But then we get It’s All in the Game. I’m all over myself pleased. It’s been a bit of a wait since the last time I heard him play it (sigh, I just don’t go to enough shows; it’s not like he hasn’t been playing it), but the wait is over, and I know I say this a lot, and I’m getting weary of myself too, but tonight he really pulls no punches and gives us one of the most spectacular Games I’ve witnessed. Long live the workshop. Paul’s fingers trip over the high notes on the piano, and it reminds me again just how great this band is … feel it in my soul, there’s a rainbow in my soul … building through the levels to the end, where Van lets loose. It lit me a smile about 10 miles wide.

I think I pay attention during Moondance, but if I did, I have no recollection of it. What I do remember is Philosopher’s Stone, where Van starts in on a lozenge and drinking hot tea. If he’s got a problem, you’d never know it – his voice is like silk in Little Village, playing on the strings let’s get it straight from the start, what you believe in your head and your heart, Jay’s guitar has all the pretty parts, and then so do the rest of the strings, and by the end of song, the whole band is playing this absolutely delightful piece of classical music. I don’t suppose something like that comes out of thin air, but they made it sound like it does, effortless, as if it’s in them. Big hand for the band. And Van; let’s not forget Van. And Ritchie – he had some pretty parts too.

And now for something completely different. Van’s sultry opening to Help Me is quite the thing. Very soft, very slow, very enticing, and David’s bass is driving it; then there’s this drum crack that takes it to the next level, with this huge violin solo that simply rocked. Way to go, Tony! And all of a sudden it turns into jazz, some very nice jazz. The Van blues. He tags on Early in the Morning, again with that softer, luring voice. Very nice. He gives us a little tease of Kansas City, a lot of jazz, and a foot-stomping harp blast to end the whole shebang. A great outing.

Have I Told You Lately? is a crowd pleaser – you can imagine the band making this all sorts of lovely for the audience, getting them ready for what comes next.

As Dan wrote so eloquently, “The final 20 minutes of the gig saw Van reaching for the stars, the ones that shine in his eyes and the ones that glitter in his memories.”

On Hyndford Street. What a thing of beauty. Paul’s organ starts it off, long notes, sweet notes from Jay, played with reverence. Then the music grows, and if it isn’t just the most calming sound. Repetitive, and each time it comes around, you drop another layer of the outside world. Van now sings all the spoken words, and boys and girls, this was the number one moment in the show – the soft plaintiveness, the poignancy, in his voice as it slides down the high notes. Where the studio version is a bit of beat, tonight it is a paean. Jay’s playing is sheer delight, and I dare say, Van, on the electric, gave an excellent run at it too. This one is definitely ready to take on the road.

Van keeps on the electric for And the Healing Has Begun and we get a pretty good rocking version of it. He closes it down in the backstreet, yelling, I’m BACK!! into the hand mike just before he starts his walk-off. Then he’s back on for Gloria and the crowd is up dancing. You can always tell how much the audience liked the show by how many people get up to dance for Gloria. I’ve seen nights where only a scattering get up; but not tonight – the whole place is up. I agree with them – this was a spectacular show.

It’s two weeks tonight, as I write this, that we were at the WaMu, and the words still echo in my head, all Van caress, can you feel the silence, on long summer nights, the voices whispered across the river, we kept on dreaming.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Van on the Eastern Seabord (Northern Part) -- Part 3

On the way to New York

So there were Sean, Donna and me Saturday night, sitting in the City Hall Cafe, downtown Waterbury. Dan and his crew had left for New York pretty much right after the show was over so that just left us and we had some deciding to do. Among the three of us, all we had was one ticket for WaMu -- Randy's, who couldn't make it at the last minute; sorry, Randy, about the ribs (ouch! ouch! ouch!) . One of us has to go and use this ticket, and are the other two in or out? That kind of decision making requires refueling and I'd had a yen for a nice little dessert since Sweet Thing, so good timing. Over some cake with lemon filling, which more than hit the spot, and a cup of coffee, we decided our fate -- we're all in, we're all going, Donna's going to take Randy's ticket and Sean and I are going to see what the scalpers are offering. Brilliant decision making.

When we got back to our hotel, we could see all sorts of tickets for WaMu out there on the Internet; surely some of these people are going to be standing outside Madison Square Garden hoping for something. That was our theory, anyway.

We weren't the first people up in the morning, but we made it and were on the road by 11, well, OK, 11:30 at least. But no rush -- the plan is to drive into Manhattan, park the car near the venue and meet up with Robbie, who works a stone's throw from MSG. and go for lunch, catch a bit of football on TV. We got to Manhattan in good time, then took a detour through the Lincoln Tunnel to go have a pee in New Jersey, before heading back into town...and wouldn't you know, as we drive by the venue, there's a spot right there, on the street. The parking gods are on our side. The car is even facing in the right direction for our quick getaway after the show, unbelievable.

Robbie's easy to find and the four of us head over to McGarry's on 9th for lunch. The Bloody Mary looks good for starters, and our day in New York is under way. It's good to be back. The Yankees and Angels are in town for Game 6 of the ALCS; the game got rained out last night, but the Yankees could clinch it tonight. A good day if you're a Yankees fan. Hey, it's a gig day, it's all good.

You know how time flies when it's all good; soon Robbie's got to get back to work, Sean's going to stay and watch the Steelers game while Donna and I head out to see what's going on in the streets of New York. The two of us head over to MSG just to see if there are any good tickets available at the box office, maybe some that got turned back. Blow me over with a feather, there are actually two good (read excellent) pairs right down at the front. We'd passed a scalper on the way in whose best were in the 200 section, but we wanted to sit down front. There was no way after feeling outside the music last night that I wanted to be sitting anywhere but down front for this one.

So we scuttled back to get Sean and the short story is we're back at the box office and getting one of those pairs. You should have seen our faces as we left, the cat that swallowed the canary is what we were. I call Pat W for directions to The Ginger Man; he's already there, having a quiet drink with Johnny G. We're on our way. By the time we get there, Dianne has joined the quiet drink group, but that's all about to change.

Great to see Linda M and her daughter, Morgan. Morgan and I go way back. She and her sister Caitlin were part of the Junior Fan Club up in Newfoundland in 1998, eating those cod tongues with the rest of us at Bum's place. Wim and Kat are here, and I don't think that's a hot dog he's eating, but it could be. Michelle and Stu from San Diego, whom we saw out in Hollywood almost a year ago, have flown in for the show, Mike and Lori show up, and Mike F (good to see you, Mike), Art, Chris, Melissa, and Bob C and Leslie, straight from the afternoon gig at the Rockwood, which sounded like another excellent time put on by Dave. Richard has made the trip from Kentucky, and you know if there's a Van show tonight, then Dan and Robert are here, too.

I think Dan and Leslie are the only two in the group going on to Baltimore for Tuesday night's gig, but for now, it's all New York and what's coming up tonight. There's never enough time at preshows, and today is no different from any other. Seven o'clock comes and we're all looking at our watches, needing to settle up the bill and head off to the show.

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