Friday's Child

Van Morrison, right? It's all been said, and often. But this project - rebuilding the aborted Hard Nose The Highway as the double album originally intended by th' Artiste, is both do-able and desirable, yet my version (Foamfeatured™ antecedently) seems to be the only one out there.

In brief, Morrison recorded all the tracks, but Warners nixed a double, because double studio albums weren't their thing, apparently. So he trimmed it back, no doubt with his trademark good humor, and inevitably something was lost in the process, in addition to the songs.

At the time of release Hard Nose was seen as a step back from the tour de force [Fr. Tower Of Power - Ed.] of St. Dominic's Preview. It feels disjointed, lacking cohesion, confused, perhaps over-ambitious. The bafflingly opaque title didn't help, nor did the Moody Blues-style cover art.

For all its guesswork, Warm Love, retitled and repackaged to a simple commercial formula that would have served it better (check how it fits the chronological discography), is truer to the artist's original vision, and a better album. It restores pacing and breadth. Morrison knew how to build an album (and a show), and the entire double album is now a smooth listen, with satisfying dynamics. There's also an underlying narrative, but this is probably my own fanciful interpretation (we'll never know). The album moves through the bitterness of Drumshanbo Hustle (hint - read the contract before you sign it, ya dumb fuck) and The Great Deception, through the healing power of love (title track, Lover's Prayer, and others), and resolves in a mystical communion with nature (Purple Heather, Snow In San Anselmo, Autumn Song). If anyone can pull that off, it's Van Morrison.

The tracks have been tagged so you can see how it would have worked - perfectly - as a double vinyl. And a note about Bein' Green. Morrison wasn't the only one to recognise a great song - Frank Sinatra recorded it, too. Green like naive, easily duped. Morrison's singing here is never bettered, his phrasing astonishing, and the big band arrangement - I think mostly Morrison's work - is sublime. It kicks Sinatra's version to the curb.

So here it is. An album that stands with his very best, continuing a seamless run of artistic brilliance that was to culminate with the following year's Veedon Fleece. Given Mr. Morrison's festering resentment at the way his life has been ruined by evil record companies, he's unlikely to go back and do this himself, so it behooves us to do it for him. Because he used to be great. This great.

This one's for Lodestone Of Wrongness, who whines he can never find the hidden link, so it's especially easy, especially for him, th' lazy-assed bum.