A cultural and philosophical breakthrough album asks the question of the age.
As one of the all-time great pop singers, Van Morrison uses vernacular to express himself and touch the deepest part of his listeners. His new album What’s It Gonna Take? asks a universal question — a key question about the endemic phase of the lockdowns but too dangerous for pop figures tied to corporate venality, who think that status quo subservience is “for the greater good.”
Singing from a place of innate liberty — an artist’s intuitive, expressive freedom — Morrison describes the culture’s recent repression the same way pop, folk, and country songs relate common experience. Morrison gently urges us toward individual realization: “What’s it gonna take for you to break? / There’s no time to make your mind up.”
Morrison’s plea “What are we gonna do now, baby?” surpasses the rhetoric of politicians and media hucksters. His reminder “But they won’t take the boot off your neck” ingeniously corrects the George Floyd meme that heightened the lockdown-breakdown. It’s genius suasion.
No set of pop songs about the inherent need to escape tyranny have better shown the good-sense forthrightness that distinguishes Morrison’s current phase (which began with last year’s Latest Record Project, Volume 1) where he transformed (personalized) the partisan tradition of the protest song.
This new album is motored by the moment; each track’s casual urgency recalls jamming improvisation — songs to enjoy, not fussed-over and arty folk-rock. Several slams against the demeaning phrase “the new normal” speak up for those without a soapbox.
On the opener “Dangerous,” Van’s band wails and sails; whatever they’re feeling, (inspiration, camaraderie, purpose) you do, too. “Somebody said I was dangerous,” Van sings. “I said something bad, it must have been good / I must be getting close to the truth.” Van’s bluesman’s wisdom and guts mean that this artist doesn’t need to argue: “I’ve been asking for the evidence now baby, for over a year / I’ve been asking for innocent evidence.” His term “innocent evidence” foils the deliberate confusion that augmenters made of the neutral phrase “alternate facts.”
“Can’t Go On This Way” mourns “can’t go out dancing, can’t go on holiday / Government keeps lying, everyone is just sad.” The mix of love entreaty with social awareness and cultural lament suffuses what might otherwise resemble pamphleteering. Then Van strikes deep: “Don’t know what to do about the common cold in the head.” Poetry beats politics.
These reflections are less far-ranging than last year’s 28-song bounty, but the most outstanding include “Not Seeking Approval,” which reasons, “You think it’s about a virus, yes, but it’s being used against us. You can’t say it enough because wisdom, sense and logic don’t seem to be getting through.” His voice provides the rhythm, and the organ backup makes it urgent and seals the soulfulness. This is not about “hope and change” but faith that comes from within.
“Pretending” closes the album powerfully. “Pretending makes the world go round / People love it when you wear a mask.” Van’s nothing so trite as an activist; the lyric’s simple virtuosity and humility are striking:
Pretending we’re on the same page
Pretending I’m some kinda sage
Pretending you get the same wage
Pretending folk music is all the rage
When background singers echo the song’s odd wish (supporting Van’s faith), its meanings swell toward companionship, solidarity, and strength. “Pretending you’re not up to the task,” Van finally quips.
Another favorite is “Nervous Breakdown” where Morrison confesses, “I been in show business so long I have to explain how it works around here . . . ” followed by audacious deconstructed pop:
First we start with the drums
Then the bass
Then the percussion comes in
Next the piano
Then we have the Hammond organ and the horns
Then the vocal group comes in
This musical moment could be live from the Blue Note (or a James Brown show). Breaking into the unified parts of a band is beautifully democratic; it works against “Showing you’re not essential / It’s a crime against humanity.” Then Van the relieved bandleader realizes, “I’m having some kind of breakthrough.” A breakthrough in Covid consciousness is better than the borrowed idea of revolution that’s been discredited by so many of Van’s pop-star peers who are now new-fogey elite conformists.
There’s a spiritual bottom line to these compositions that you don’t hear in the tradition of strident protest songs. (It recalls how, in 1983, New Order’s Power Corruption and Lies revised pop politics with comparable aplomb.) What’s It Gonna Take? shows 76-year-old Morrison in a vigorous, inventive frame of mind. That’s what honest pop music takes.