Van Morrison – Hard Nose the Highway Review

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Close to returning home on his previous album, Van Morrison shares his decision of whether to stick it out in the United States or return to his beloved Northern Ireland on Hard Nose the Highway. He opts for the former choice, doubling down against the doubts heard on the immaculate Saint Dominic’s Preview by turning to the open road, the suggestion of America as the Land of Opportunity. He, like so many before and after him, continues the pursuit of why so many settle for the US of A. Inconsistencies begin to show, though. Not in the emotive experiences Morrison provides, opener Snow in San Anselmo makes not of those religious tones of the preceding album, but in the instrumental mixing. In capturing the pursuit of the American Dream, Morrison discards the flavours of faith and doubt which were found so frequently in his albums before 1973.  

Flat pieces like Warm Love are the issue, though. Smiling faces and the push of inspiration Morrison finds in those positive flickers, those encounters which warm the heart, are not all that interesting. Not in the sense of their message but in how they are delivered. His vocal range remains magnificently unique but the instrumentals around it, while still varied, feel relatively plain. Inevitably, though, through some exceptional brass arrangements on the title track, Morrison wins over the almost sluggish tone. Dance halls, Frank Sinatra, all of it feels like a traipse through the life Morrison did not want to leave behind, the experiences he had thought of departing from on Saint Dominic’s Preview. From Belfast to Boston, as he puts it. Whether he could see that bald-headed organ player in either city remains to be confirmed, but it is likely. He finds comparisons between the two on Hard Nose the Highway and spends much of the album considering whether his choice to remain in the States was the right one.  

Ultimately, it was. Those experiences lend themselves massively to the rest of the tracks found on Hard Nose the Highway, and while they may be somewhat flat, they do well to overhaul Morrison as an artist of tepid personal growth. Wild Children and the songs preceding it feel so totally connected with the contemporary culture of the times, from James Dean references to innovative filmmakers Morrison was seemingly affected by during recording. Lounge-like piano playing, the multi-layered stylishness, is the real draw for this, though. His overlapping instrumental successes on Hard Nose the Highway frequently outweigh his lyrics. The Great Deception serves as a reminder of Morrison now, some nutjob who prattles away at covers because he has run out of juice. Hard Nose the Highway may hear his tank gurgle for more, but he swings back into a better, blues-like form on Bein’ Green.  

A definite slump from Morrison, but an understandable one. His decision to stick around in the USA had taken a toll. His faith-reliant predecessor was an ambitious example of what he could do when moved by the divine. Now, his commentaries on the world around him felt a tad jagged, a bit of an edge to them was explored by the songwriter, just not enough on Hard Nose the Highway. Loved-up placidity can be heard on Autumn Song and the everyday occasion lends itself to the jazzier notions, but they are never allowed into the forefront of the song which drones on with an indifferent purpose. Instead, they linger in the backdrop, trying to catch Morrison as he storms off into album closer Purple Heather. A steady close, but what is lost from the latter stages of the A-Side and into the B-Side, is staggering.