Reflecting on my favorite album
I can't replicate what Van Morrison's "Astral Weeks" did for me.
Van Morrison’s most acclaimed album, Astral Weeks, is definitely not for everyone. It’s easily one of the least “rock”-sounding albums in the rock canon, but for those who love it, there is literally nothing like it. It’s repetitive, swirling, jazzy, folky music with stellar singing and instrumentation, but the album is more to be experienced as an album than understood in terms of what the lyrics mean. And like critic Greil Marcus, who has written that he’s never listened closely to the album’s lyrics, I, too, have never paid much attention to them, and yet, like with Marcus, I find that this album always moves me emotionally.
I was eleven years old and in sixth grade when I first checked Astral Weeks out of my hometown library, knowing a little about Van Morrison’s reputation as one of popular music’s most distinctive singers. Nothing could have prepared me for how different this album was from the chipper oldies radio staple, “Brown Eyed Girl,” released in 1967, a year before Astral Weeks. From the opening track’s reassuring and lyrical acoustic guitar lines and insistent upright bass work, this album, feverishly intense and improvisational, made a deep impression on me. And the uniquely rich texture of Morrison’s voice is much more noticeable on this album than on anything “Brown Eyed Girl” could have hinted at.
The timing of when I heard this album accounted for some of its personal significance. In the fall of 1999, I had just started a new school and was making peace with a rough year. In fifth grade, I had had my first episode of depression, very much on display for all to observe, with me being one profanity-spewing, publicly crying, suicidal ten-year-old.
As a result of hearing this album early in sixth grade, my depression eased, with me reacting less overtly to every little thing that pissed me off. That doesn’t mean that my life got easier overnight, but this album lifted my spirits significantly. There’s something utterly joyous about “Sweet Thing,” tragic about “Madame George,” and brooding about “Beside You,” and to this day, Astral Weeks is likely my favorite album of all time. I distinctly remember hearing this album for the first time and thinking, with my literal-minded brain, “So, this is what ‘timeless’ means.” The concept suddenly metaphorically clicked in my head.
In 2002, when I was in eighth grade, I applied for a full-tuition merit scholarship for four years of high school at the private school I was attending. I wrote my scholarship application essay on this album that helped me get out of a dark period. I was thirteen then, but with whatever impatience I had for most music I heard, this album spoke to me like nothing else.
I was awarded this scholarship. It was a sweet victory after how hard I had worked in middle school—and struggled socially. And high school was rougher in many ways, but it would have been far worse had I attended the local public school, so my love of Astral Weeks helped enable a better high school experience for me. And in my last semester of high school, I launched a short-lived music reviews website, starting with this album. I called Astral Weeks the most justifiably celebrated album in rock history, also calling it consistent, transcendent, and timeless.
So much has changed since high school, including with how I listen to music—I pay attention to lyrics, for one—but my love of this album also appears consistent, transcendent, and timeless. And I still haven’t listened to the vast majority of Morrison’s catalog, but this album provides all the beautiful music I will ever need.