Yes, a period of transition is one way to describe the three-year gap between this and Veedon Fleece. Where the latter effort was a near-Moondance return to form for Van Morrison, the album he follows it up with, A Period of Transition, is a mess. It feels more like a contractually obliged half-hour than anything of meaning or necessity. The real surprise is not the instrumental change Morrison trials here, but the lack of difference it makes when the wordplay he is known for comes crashing down. Barebones funk displays after a seemingly rekindled album of virtuosity, a mind made up after doubts of faith and culture were heard on Saint Dominic’s Preview, feels like a cop-out. We do have to make it through the world if we can, as Morrison makes clear. We must also make it through A Period of Transition, if we can, that is.
A Period of Transition is more a shock of sparse moments than anything else. To hear Morrison move away from the tones and instrumental complexity which granted him such freedom in the past is staggering. This is not the issue. The lead problem Morrison has here is the absence gives way to nothing refreshing, no new exaggerations or bold takes. His concepts are relatively tame and feature a muddied blues tone which never takes him any further than the work he was putting out beforehand. Opener You Gotta Make it Through the World and It Fills You Up are middle-of-the-road efforts by his standard, and yet the best parts of A Period of Transition. But pieces like The Eternal Kansas City, meant to be storytelling moments based on the keen repetition Morrison would so often use in his best works, are sparse and uneventful.
Even the instrumental pounce heard part ways through is not capable of rising above the repetitive, mundane meaning. Soul music without the soul is never going to work and A Period of Transition finds this out the hard way. We do too, as listeners, as those who trust in the quality of Morrison and his work around this time. Joyous Sounds comes and goes without any suggestion of elation and on comes Flamingos Fly, an equally sparse song where the funk-like tones, the conviction Morrison once held as a singer, evaporates. At least Heavy Connection picks up the pieces and makes a go of it, an honest attempt where reminiscence turns into cutting jabs of unwanted romantic rekindling.
Stumbling on those moments within A Period of Transition means it is worth a listen. A spin of the record, just that one time, to feel the fresh punch of what Morrison was going for, and to pinpoint where it goes wrong. He leaves the best for last in A Period of Transition. Sharp details on Cold Wind in August present a charming follow-on from Heavy Connection, but it is too late. It changes little, even if Morrison finally finds a use for those backing vocalists shuffling around A Period of Transition. Cut through the dreck and salvage those final two songs, they are well worth repeating. The rest is filler, a shocking result considering the strengths before and after this release. A Period of Transition remains as unremarkable as its title would suggest.
