CD: Van Morrison - Keep Me Singing

First new work for four years is beautiful but nostalgic

share this article

Van Morrison: more like a canary

“In time, you’ll be mine,” sings Van Morrison in the opening song to his first new collection in four years. That line sets the tone for a warm bath of an album, a genial, reflective, though always finely honed stroll through the themes and styles of the last four decades. All but one of these are new songs, and the four years they have taken to write have been well spent, though we are, both musically and lyrically, looking backwards.   

Stylistically, it’s a kind of tribute to the genres he’s mined over the years. There’s bluesy harmonica and piano on “Going Down to Bangor”, while a Hammond squeals tastefully on “Calendonia Swing”. Elsewhere there’s boogie-woogie, and even splashes of reggae, while “Look Beyond the Hill” has a touch of funk. It’s subtle, well assimilated into his unique sound, and impeccably cosmopolitan, though these are all well-trodden paths.

Sometimes he addresses directly the nostalgia that seeps from every track: “In Tiburton” reminisces about where “Chet Baker used to play”. The album never really escapes the mellow lyricism it creates from the outset, which isn’t generally a problem, unless more strident moods are summoned. On “Holy Guardian Angel” he quotes the spiritual “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen”, but the song is otherwise so mellow, it’s so difficult to imagine his predicament extending beyond an empty whisky bottle by his armchair, before the crackling fire which so obviously inspired the song.

These songs are beautifully crafted, oozing bronzey timbres and soothing vocals. There are songs of love, yearning and loss, but the emotional thermometer never really rises above warm: the Ulster bluesman sounds as though he’d feel all right again after a cup of herbal tea. The title track rhymes “Keep me singing” with “while I’m willing”, but he doesn’t sound as if he needed much encouragement. He’s clearly enjoying himself, and most fans will too, though no one will fall off their chair at the originality of any of this - it’s the kind of album to nestle to. Autumn fruit is often the most delicious.

@matthewwrighter

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
The emotional thermometer never really rises above warm

rating

3

explore topics

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 31st August this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

Andy Dragazis’ musical alter-ego offers nods to legendary arranger and producer Charles Stepney
The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism
Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along