And They Stood Upon The Lawn ...

How the truth shone ... A beautiful devotional hymn. Feels like all my questions have been answered when I listen to Van on this. His phrasing, particularly during the first two verses, is exceptional here.  The timing of each line varies but is somehow perfect each time. Sometimes I listen to Van and wonder where his voice comes from, this is one of those tracks. A beautiful live version And my questions all were answered ...

I see my freedom from across the way ... One of the most uplifting songs in Van's canon.  Delicate piano and the lightest of touches on the kit is all that sits under Van initially, before horns and gospel voices (featuring Cissy Houston) converge to cleanse the spirit and push away the gloom. So good it should be available on prescription. A lovely live version from 2002 And my heart is still ...

Like a whirling dervish ... A wonderful, circular, meditative song concerning function not form.  The song itself exemplifies the meaning of the track. Never more clearly than in the famous "blah, blah, blah ..." section, devoid of form there is only the function of the sound.  Elevation. Layer upon layer.  Round and round. Like a whirling dervish. You'll find the spiritual ... Stretching time ...

Dump the jute ... The struggle to dump the burdens we carry, the crosses we bear, to pare back the layers of aggregated defences and habits, to reveal our true selves, a hard and painful journey through the burning ground. Purification. Van and the band turned this into meditative revelation live.   Witness And I lift the veil ...

But it is not so with me ... A revolutionary text of tremendous power by William Blake, first set to music by Mike Westbrook and here by Van.  Still of relevance today.  Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field Let him look up into the heavens and laugh in the bright air Let the enchained soul shut up in darkness and in sighing Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years Rose and look out, his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open And let his wife and children return from the oppressor's scourge They look behind at every step and believe it is a dream Singing, the sun has left his blackness and has found a fresher morning And the fair moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night For empire is no more And now the lion and wolf shall cease For everything that lives is holy For everything that lives is holy For everything that lives is holy For everything that lives is holy What is the pr...

Raining in the forest ... As soon as this song starts, I start to smile because I know what's coming. Magic. A dash of plucked strings, a turn of phrase and Van just turning it on, transforming a lovely song into something so much more.  I have no idea how it happens. It just does. The song shuffles into consciousness with Van urging us to get "away from the city" to where you can hear the "voice of the silence." As soon as that hits you know it could be in the air.  Van is in some kind of declarative mood and the hints are there, silence, truth, bells, voices singing but lulled as we are by the soft strings and mandolin it isn't until deep into the song when it is "Raining in the forest just enough to magnetise the leaves" that the magic comes down.  I can't explain what happens, a combination of the plucked strings echoing the raindrops as they fall and Van opening up with that voice of his, I don't understand.  I m...

Tonight beneath the silvery moon ... Go out tonight once the cool of the evening has descended. Look up into the infinite night sky. Press play.  You will understand the oneness. Rave on John Donne, rave on thy holy fool Down through the weeks of ages In the moss borne dark dank pools Rave on, down through the industrial revolution Empiricism, the atomic and nuclear age Rave on down through corridors Rave on words on printed page Rave on Walt Whitman, nose down in wet grass Rave on fill the senses On nature's bright green shady path Rave on Omar Khayyam, Rave on Kahlil Gibran Oh, what sweet wine we drinketh The celebration will be held We will partake the wine and break the holy bread Rave on, let a man come out of Ireland Rave on Mr Yeats Rave on down through thy Holy Rosey Cross Rave on down through theosophy and the Golden Dawn Rave on through the writing "A Vision" Rave on, rave on, rave on, rave o...