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JAVIER LOSILLA
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The Irish musician, Van Morrison, showed the glory last night, with a full room in the first of his two Zaragozanos concerts.
Morrison is a customary man: he likes to begin punctual the concerts, and to finalize them also on time predicted. Thus the things, they lacked five minutes for the nine at night, and already was its band in the setting heating the environment. And at nine o'clock or´clock roared the old lion of Belfast. Good, the verb to roar does not define exactly the tone of the first forty minutes of the concert, that turned out to be especially tranquil. Correct, preciosistas if is wanted, but without that energy that defines al Morrison braver. And that that in that time launched things as Moondance and Days Like This.
For moments we think that the key of that placidity was in the band, without metals and with the violin and the steel guitar tempering and sending above the other instruments. But then we verify that the key was in the leader, that was being reserved. Why?
When it attacked a very powerful one St. James Infirmary, some we told us: now awakes the wild animal. Was just then in which we feel al better Morrison, al white blacker, al sharper musician. And we promised them us happy thinking that, from there, the pulse of the action would go for those courses.
False alarm: after that crest, that ascent to the skies, they played cat and mouse, alternating disruptive and brilliant passages with more domesticated offerings. It was a section in which had pieces such as Beautiful Vision and Brown Eye Girl (Morrison recorded it in its first disk, in 1968).
Blues, soul, country, rock... Morrison touches all the sticks, and all were touched last night in the Multipurpose. With the wisdom of whom carries on his backs a long and splendid career, and elevating from time to time the level (torrid ballads in which he is a teacher!) to elevations of magnificent emotion.
So that, ten years after its first visit to Zaragoza, Morrison carried its faithful followers of the glory, limbo, and reverse. The glory reached with some songs, when the voice freed its better registrations and of the sax you left the most ardent notes, and the limbo, that pleasant place and without starts: the correction, that is to say: beautiful, but not of that cutting beauty that traps and snatches.
And finally, with the view of the clock (nothing of repeat, ¡would lack more!), a little Glory knocked down, as they approached 10:30 pm at night.
Morrison, as an agent of the blues, leaves beeping of the setting when sound the bells reserve guards that mark the end of the evening. The musicians concluded the piece with vigor, perhaps fearful to be become pumpkins. Or in mice devoured by the lion.