"Tupelo Honey" was my first Van Morrison album. It was 1972, I was just outta high school, heading to mid-west USA, but wishing I could have experienced Woodstock. "Tupelo Honey" seemed like the next best thing. Folksy, innocent, anti-establishment in its extolling of "back to the land" living, and plain captivating.
At the concert tonight, I’m reminded of all these years ago.
Morrison looks like a portly "Goodfella." He sings–Doesn’t matter to what God you pray/Precious time slippin’ away–and I’m there.
But the years have only added texture to that hammond-organ throat of his. I was swept up for the entire concert, even after all these years. Deb too, she’s been a Morrison fan from the time she was introduced. And at the end we all sang G-L-O-R-I-A…Gloria.
We’re home early. Not even 10 PM. And this is my only complaint. I needed at least another 90 minutes worth. Perhaps Van needed his sleep, or maybe he needed a little honey.
Technorati Tags: Van Morrison, Tupelo Honey, Edmonton’s Rexall Place, Beauty
I wanted to go, I’m jealous. We got to watch Jesus Camp instead last night (more in this week’s budget, after last week’s settlement)…and though I’m sure some might have been hoping it would put me back on the straight and narrow, I found it exremely disturbing…