Blues-like intent on a stripped-back album from Van Morrison heard him return to a well-known form. Saint Dominic’s Preview has the same mysticism as his earliest records, but there was never a chance of recapturing such form. They are unlike anything else. No man could flutter his way through lyrics which, on repeat listen, sound gifted from somewhere off-world. Not space-age, but divine. Saint Dominic’s Preview has more links with religion than just its title, taken from the patron saint of astronomers. Preview the world through the eyes of some noble priest, the religious figure behind the rosary coming through to common practice. His upbringing presents itself in a homesick body of work. But you cannot truly return to a place where you are defined as something else, and Morrison tries to come to terms with this on Saint Dominic’s Preview.
Emotionally charged experiences are the constant joy and suffering to be had with Morrison. His style of writing here hints at a sentimental longing, a teary-eyed reflection on a place which did him no favours but now offers salvation because it is not where he is. He touches on this well, constantly enough to have it become a key factor in Saint Dominic’s Preview, but not enough for it to overwhelm and become its sole purpose. Through seven songs Morrison tries his best to reinvigorate himself and his surroundings. Knocked off his feet, searching for a new reason to continue in the United States, he sounds volatile. A bouncy sense of finding himself, be it through vocal interjections on Jackie Wilson Said or the swaggering acoustic joys of Gypsy. These lengthier efforts, like Listen to the Lion, are instrumental overlaps of sincere importance. Their constantly shifting sound and tempo, the piano notes drifting into place, reflect a discomfort and displacement Morrison charts clearly on Saint Dominic’s Preview.
Ambition is key here. Morrison, at a time where the allure of a return home and to the ordinary, must have been tempting, throws all he knows at these seven songs. Celtic rock to the fundamentals of improvised big band processes, Saint Dominic’s Preview is a balancing act which requires great skill and care. Morrison, thankfully, has that in abundance. Words are just placeholders for feeling. Morrison proves on Saint Dominic’s Preview that a passionate heart and a fear for the future is more than enough to carry the lopsided writing, the choices which capture the emotion but may not make sense in a wider purpose. There is no wider purpose necessary, though, because Morrison is uncovering new momentum all the while reflecting on his work so far.
Saint Dominic’s Preview is exceptional proof of looking back on a period of thriving creativity and accepting it does not hinder advancements. Nostalgia is the fool’s game, Morrison stays away from it. How he goes on from here is the question he keeps returning to, and with the title track and album closer Almost Independence Day, he carves a route through with some bold and daring choices. Do as the title track instructs. Gaze out on. Find something in yourself you did not know was there. It all becomes so close to possible with Saint Dominic’s Preview, a daring piece from Morrison which stands as one of his clear best. Find some inspiration in the honesty Morrison displays here. Redwood Tree is a shot of instrumental bliss and his writing, all the way through, remains remarkable and unshielded.
