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Van Morrison: Veedon Fleece

By Jesse Kornbluth
Published: Jun 24, 2020
Category: Rock

For more years than most of you have been alive, I have believed that Astral Weeks is Van Morrison’s transcendent work. And for as long as I’ve been publishing Butler, I’ve told you that — indeed, because it’s a largely unknown masterpiece, I’ve called it the poster child for this site.

It’s possible I was only half-right.

A genius reader recently informed me about “Veedon Fleece.” Like this:

“Astral Weeks,” yes. I get it, as a million others do. But… “Veedon Fleece.” I cut my teeth on it thanks to a big sister with musical taste. It is my favorite VM. It’s so divine I can’t find a season it doesn’t fit into. If it was a cold foggy day and VM sat in the corner of your kitchen by the fire, this is what you might expect.

So I went to Amazon. The CD price is ridiculous. An MP3 version has, decades late, been released. It is $9.99. I will now make the case that there is no bigger bargain — and no better cultural investment — on the planet. [To buy the MP3 of “Veedon Fleece” from Amazon, click here.]

Morrison recorded “Veeden Fleece” in 1974, six years after “Astral Weeks.” He had been recently divorced. He was exhausted from touring. With his new lover, he went back to Ireland. In three weeks, he wrote the songs for “Veedon Fleece.” A month later, he recorded them.

Morrison: “When you make an album you write some songs; you might have four songs and maybe you write two more, suddenly you’ve got enough songs for an album.” That’s like the making of “Astral Weeks” — Morrison brought new songs to the studio, the musicians didn’t always hear them before they recorded them; Morrison was partial to keeping the first take. The title? Morrision’s explanation is classic: “I haven’t a clue what the title means. It’s actually a person’s name. I have a whole set of characters in my head that I’m trying to fit into things. Veedon Fleece is one of them and I just suddenly started singing it in one of these songs. It’s like a stream of consciousness thing.”

As it happens, that’s the best way to approach this collection — as atmospheres, not as songs. The lyrics refer to places, literary figures (“Oscar Wilde and Thoreau”), random ideas (“William Blake and the Eternals”). When they’re direct, the emotions are pure (“I want to comfort you/ Just let your tears run wild/ Like when you were a child/ I’ll do what I can do/ I want to comfort you/ You put the weight on me”). But sometimes he’s just a voice, reaching high, growling low. It all sounds casual, relaxed. It’s so not.

A comment on YouTube is telling: “The only perceived evidence that I can think of supporting the idea that we encompass a soul is the fact that it is impossible for something like this to come from flesh.” Put it another way: flesh channels eternity on these tracks. The music grounds you, refreshes you; it’s a spa for the soul. Suggestions: Don’t try to analyze it. Surrender to it. Though it’s good company by day, it’s magic at midnight — with the lights out, it will take you deep; with a partner, it can be a healing and a communion.

Will you be stunned to hear that “Veedon Fleece” was a commercial and critical failure? And that Morrison was crushed? He didn’t make another record for four years. He considered starting a window cleaning service in Belfast.

Morrison only plays one of these songs in concert, so 44 years after it was released, you have the privilege of discovery. How lucky you are.

Here’s every song:

Streets of Arklow

Fair Play

You Don’t Pull No Punches, But You Don’t Push the River

Cul de Sac

Linden Arden Stole the Highlights

Who Was That Masked Man?

Bulbs

Comfort You

Come Here My Love

Country Fair

Bonus Lyrics

And as we walked
Through the streets of Arklow
Oh the color
Of the day wore on
And our heads
Were filled with poetry
And the morning
A-comin’ on to dawn
And as we walked
Through the streets of Arklow
And gay perfusion
In god’s green land
And the gypsy’s rode
With their hearts on fire
They say “We love to wander, ”
“Lord we love, ”
“Lord we love to roam”

And as we walked
Through the streets of Arklow
In a drenching beauty
Rolling back ’til the day
And I saw your eyes
They was shining, sparkling crystal clear
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow

(For VG, with thanks)