A new label but business as usual for George Ivan Morrison, erstwhile mystic and vocal giant, as he covers familiar territory with customary tenacity and still manages to unearth some fresh delights. The lazy, bucolic loveliness of "Somerset" and the spry, curious musing of "Little Village" are standouts, while the iniquities of life lived in the media goldfish remain an abiding concern for Morrison?somewhat laughably, since he's hardly in the Posh'n'Becks league. But his blistering performance on "Fame" (no relation to Bowie's) is the sound of a man with a righteous bee in his bonnet.
A new label but business as usual for George Ivan Morrison, erstwhile mystic and vocal giant, as he covers familiar territory with customary tenacity and still manages to unearth some fresh delights.
The lazy, bucolic loveliness of “Somerset” and the spry, curious musing of “Little Village” are standouts, while the iniquities of life lived in the media goldfish remain an abiding concern for Morrison?somewhat laughably, since he’s hardly in the Posh’n’Becks league. But his blistering performance on “Fame” (no relation to Bowie’s) is the sound of a man with a righteous bee in his bonnet.
