Rolling Stone #142: Van Morrison

Van Morrison: ‘I’m Not a Rock & Roll Performer’

After a five-year absence, he’ll play England, where some consider him ‘The Marlon Brando of Rock’

Los Angeles – Smiling and joking with several musicians from his band, Van Morrison, his hair freshly cut and closely resembling one of the Katzenjammer Kids, nurses a drink beside a loudly crackling pool table in the Beverly Hilton bar. Following their policy of never traveling on the day of a performance, Van and his ten-piece Caledonia Soul Orchestra have arrived in town a day early for two sold-out shows at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium, one of the first major stops on a summer long international tour. Coinciding with the release of a new album, Hard Nose the Highway, the extensive roadwork – a rarity for the stage-shy Morrison – will cover such countries as Holland, Sweden, France, Germany and England.

Several feet away, tour-coordinator Ron Gibson squats on the floor with a plug-in phone and talks with the Troubadour, asking very sweetly for freebie reservations to see Donald Byrd and Melissa Manchester. “Well,” he arrives at the crux of the conversation, “you see, there’s… lemme see … seventeen of us.”

Standing out stiffly from Gibson’s back pocket is the by-now infamous copy of an English pop journal blaring the details of Van Morrison’s long-awaited European arrival after a five-year absence. Brimming with over-zealous Morrison profiles and discographies, one article cried verbal tears of joy over the occasion and finally arrived at the conclusion that he was indeed “The Marlon Brando of Rock.”

“I’m not a rock & roll performer and I never was,” Van dismisses. “I’ve made rock & roll records, but then I’ve also made jazz records and country & western records. I’m a musician and a singer. They always want to give you a label…”

Guitarist John Platania abandons billiards for a moment and falls into the hardwood chair next to Van. He pokes an elbow into Van’s ribs. “Hey, Marlon, what’s happening?” Van grins. Someone deadpans the prediction that once in England, Morrison was sure to be the next David Bowie. Platania jumps to his feet and minces off towards the cue sticks to a blast of guffaws.

It is more than apparent that everyone is working overtime – and succeeding – at keeping Morrison’s spirits up.

“Van’s had it in the back of his mind to do this tour for a long, long time,” says Ron Gibson, who booked the whole expedition. “He’s just been waiting for a band that he could really get off with. When Van saw us all working together so well, he felt that these were the people to do it with.”

“Van doesn’t really like to go out on the road. He’s definitely very settled in Marin County. Perhaps another reason he hasn’t been performing a lot was that he didn’t feel the performance would be up to par. And, of course, he was going through the aftermath of a divorce.”

The Caledonia Soul Orchestra, which features a scaled-down brass and string section, appears specifically designed to cook with elegance. Consisting largely of the same personnel used on Hard Nose the Highway, the emphasis is on background and experience. Platania and saxist Jack Shroer, for instance, have played regularly with Morrison since Moondance, while violinist Nathan Rubin is the master of the Oakland Symphony. The band, insists Van, is the best he’s had in a number of years.

“The stage show has always been good,” he explains later in his hotel room, “when the music was right. The music is right now. Although nobody can be on every night, it’s mostly on with this band. The tour has been going great. Unless I’m tired, my state of mind is generally pretty good these days.”

A three-day run at the Troubadour early this spring proved the testing round for the new group. Following their critical success, plans for the European leg of the tour were solidified.

“The Troubadour,” recalls Gibson, “was the first date with the strings. He’d been waiting to use strings onstage for some time and these were exactly the guys he was looking for.”

Jackie De Shannon, who also makes a guest appearance on Hard Nose the Highway, opened the Troubadour shows backed with the CSO. “Sweet Sixteen,” the tune her set showcased, was one of several that Van wrote and produced for her next album.

For a time, rumors began to circulate that a duet-album was in the works and that the two would pattern their live appearances after the Rita Coolidge-Kris Kristofferson package. De Shannon had in fact shared the stage with Morrison at several dates around Marin County. Gibson had even alerted the press about a possible joint tour. Now, he says, the idea was only a remote possibility.

Van, himself is a bit more emphatic. “There was never a duet-album planned. There was no team-up. There was no nothing. That whole thing was just the magazines talking. They write about something they don’t know anything about…just to make money. Something happens and they figure it’s worth bread, so they write it up. That’s how those magazines exist.”

The media has always been something Van Morrison felt uneasy and stand-offish about. Yet, with a new sense of confidence, he is seriously considering a number of major media endeavors.

“We’ve been invited,” reveals Gibson, who deals with and screens the many offers, “to be on every major rock program. We’ve been asked to play on In Concert, to host Midnight Special and so on. We’ve also been given the means to do a prime-time special by a major network. Canadian television has asked to do things. The Swedish television network has asked to do things. The BBC has requested us for a show. An independent English film company wants to do a documentary on Van. Van doesn’t know whether he wants to get into television. We very well may be doing something that parallels the Paul McCartney special.”

For now, however, there’s only Hard Nose the Highway. An album that is, from what Van has to say, already a part of his past.

“The album is gone and done,” said Morrison. “It’s long gone and totally in my past. My only present is the gig after tomorrow night… and the gig after that. That album doesn’t have anything to do with my life or the way I live. It’s just a record of songs. Yet I’m sitting here talking to you to promote the album… which is already old. This whole business is just a game….”

Courtesy of Rolling Stone #142 – Cameron Crowe – August 30, 1973