Van Morrison – Gloria: The Raw Birth of Garage Rock

Three Chords That Changed Everything

Some songs don’t need complexity — they just need attitude. “Gloria” by Van Morrison (with Them) is the perfect example. Released in 1964, it’s one of those primal rock ’n’ roll songs that feels alive every time it’s played — simple, defiant, and overflowing with energy.

The first time I heard it, I was struck by how real it sounded. No polish, no filters — just a band in full swing, driven by Morrison’s youthful snarl and a riff anyone with a guitar could play. It was garage rock before the term even existed.

The Origins: Belfast to the World

Van Morrison was just 18 when he wrote “Gloria” while fronting the Belfast-based band Them. Legend has it he wrote the song during a gig at the Maritime Hotel, and it became their signature closing number. Recorded in 1964 and released in 1965, it appeared as the B-side to “Baby, Please Don’t Go” — though “Gloria” quickly became the real star.

It’s astonishing how such a simple three-chord progression (E–D–A) could become one of the most influential riffs in rock history.

The Lyrics: Youthful Lust and Raw Energy

Let’s be honest — “Gloria” isn’t about philosophy or social commentary. It’s about desire, plain and simple. Morrison delivers every word with a mix of swagger and innocence, turning a straightforward lyric into something magnetic.

“She comes around here, just about midnight…”

It’s raw, it’s urgent, and it’s universal. Every teenager who ever picked up a guitar could relate.

The Sound: The Blueprint for Garage Rock

Musically, “Gloria” is as stripped down as it gets — but that’s the beauty of it. Billy Harrison’s jangly guitar riff drives the song, Alan Henderson’s bass holds steady, and Ronnie Millings’ drumming gives it just enough swing.

And at the center of it all, Morrison’s vocals — wild, unrestrained, completely in the moment. He doesn’t just sing “G-L-O-R-I-A”; he shouts it like a battle cry.

That raw spontaneity inspired countless garage bands in the U.S., leading to covers by The Shadows of Knight, The Doors, Patti Smith, and more.

The Doors’ Version: A Darker Fire

When The Doors covered “Gloria” live, they transformed it into something more hypnotic and dangerous — slower, sensual, and unmistakably Jim Morrison. Yet even in that darker form, the spirit of Van’s original remained. It’s the kind of song that bends to whoever plays it, but never breaks.

A Fan’s Reflection

I remember the first time I played “Gloria” with friends in a garage band. Three chords, and suddenly, we felt like rock stars. It’s that kind of song — empowering, immediate, and timeless.

Hearing Van’s original again years later, I realized how much heart it had beneath the swagger. You can feel the hunger of a young man trying to break out of Belfast and into the world.

Why Gloria Still Rocks the World

Nearly 60 years later, “Gloria” remains one of the most electrifying songs ever recorded. It’s proof that you don’t need complexity to make magic — just rhythm, feeling, and honesty.

For me, “Gloria” is Van Morrison’s purest moment — before the mysticism, before the jazz — just a kid with fire in his voice and a song that would light up rock ’n’ roll forever.

Van Morrison – Sweet Thing: A Love Song That Floats on Air

Poetry Set to Music

Listening to Van Morrison’s “Sweet Thing” feels less like hearing a song and more like stepping into a poem. The words tumble out in a rush of imagery — gardens wet with rain, the promise of walking in fields of green — while the music gently carries you forward like a breeze.

It’s tender, it’s hopeful, and it’s one of the most luminous moments on Morrison’s landmark 1968 album Astral Weeks.

A Standout on Astral Weeks

Released at a time when Morrison was still carving out his post-Brown Eyed Girl identity, Astral Weeks was unlike anything else in popular music. It blended folk, jazz, and soul into something almost spiritual.

“Sweet Thing” is the closest the album comes to a traditional love song — though even here, Morrison avoids clichés. Instead, he paints love as a spiritual journey, something eternal, something that makes the ordinary world shimmer with possibility.

The Lyrics: Overflowing with Vision

Lines like “And I will stroll through the fields of the children” and “I will never grow so old again” capture a feeling of renewal, of falling in love not just with a person but with life itself. Morrison’s delivery is breathless and ecstatic, like he can hardly get the words out fast enough.

For fans, that’s the magic: it feels like you’re listening in on a private prayer.

The Music: Gentle but Powerful

The arrangement is deceptively simple. Acoustic guitar, upright bass, and delicate flute lines weave together while Morrison’s voice soars and dips with raw emotion. It’s not flashy, but it doesn’t need to be — the power comes from the honesty.

Decades later, the song still feels fresh, proof that true emotion never goes out of style.

A Fan’s Connection

I remember putting Astral Weeks on during a quiet evening, not knowing what to expect. By the time “Sweet Thing” ended, I was completely still, caught in its spell. It wasn’t background music — it was the kind of track that takes over the room, demanding you pause and feel.

It’s a song that makes you want to step outside, breathe deeper, and notice the beauty around you.

Why Sweet Thing Still Resonates

More than 50 years after its release, “Sweet Thing” remains one of Van Morrison’s most beloved songs. It’s tender without being sentimental, spiritual without being preachy, and endlessly replayable.

For me, it’s proof that love songs don’t have to be loud to be powerful. Sometimes, all it takes is a quiet voice, a gentle melody, and a poet’s heart to remind us what really matters.

Van Morrison – “Ballerina”: A Soulful Cry for Release and Rebirth

“Ballerina” is the fifth track on Van Morrison seminal 1968 album Astral Weeks — a record often considered one of the most spiritually profound and musically daring albums in the history of popular music. While Astral Weeks has no shortage of haunting, poetic brilliance, “Ballerina” stands out as one of Morrison’s most emotional and improvisational performances, balancing jazz, soul, folk, and mysticism in a single, yearning prayer of a song.

It’s not just a ballad — it’s a moment of naked vulnerability and deep longing, delivered with a rawness that feels like it could unravel at any second.

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The Sound: Jazz-Poetry in Motion

“Ballerina” is built on a loose, fluid jazz arrangement, guided more by feeling than form. Unlike conventional pop structure, the song moves like a stream of consciousness, with Morrison’s voice as the guiding instrument.

Musically, it features:

• Acoustic guitar and upright bass, forming a quiet but steady foundation
• Vibraphone flourishes, adding an otherworldly shimmer
• Richard Davis’ bass lines, improvisational and expressive — almost like a second narrator
• Subtle woodwinds and strings that weave in and out like emotions passing through the soul

There’s no chorus, no hook — just rising and falling waves of emotion, shifting dynamics, and a sense that the music is breathing right alongside Morrison.

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The Voice: Morrison at His Most Exposed

Van Morrison’s vocal performance on “Ballerina” is a study in contrast — pleading, tender, explosive, restrained. He whispers one line, then howls the next. You feel like you’re overhearing a private moment of revelation, not a polished studio take.

“Step right up, love, and step right up, love / Let your tears rain down on me…”

The delivery is intensely personal. Morrison is not singing to an audience — he’s singing to someone, or perhaps to himself, trying to push past fear, hesitation, and sorrow.

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The Lyrics: Rebirth Through Movement

Lyrically, “Ballerina” reads like a plea for emotional liberation. The narrator encourages the titular ballerina — or perhaps a woman he sees trapped in self-doubt — to take a risk, to feel again, to dance her way toward something new.

“And it’s all in your stride, I said,
That’s what I said,
That’s what I cried, I cried for you…”

There’s also a recurring motif of movement — not just physical but spiritual. The act of stepping forward becomes symbolic of rebirth, courage, and awakening.

And when Morrison cries:

“Start all over again…”

It hits like a spiritual incantation — a call not just to begin anew, but to return to the essence of being alive.

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Improvisation and Intuition

Much like the rest of Astral Weeks, “Ballerina” wasn’t recorded with traditional rock session musicians. It was captured with jazz players who were given no written charts, only Morrison’s loose, evocative direction.

The result? A song that sounds spontaneous and fragile, like it could collapse under its own weight at any moment — yet it soars instead, lifted by emotion and intuition rather than precision.

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Legacy and Influence

While not as frequently referenced as “Madame George” or “Sweet Thing,” “Ballerina” has earned a place as a fan favorite and critical gem. It’s one of the songs that best captures the unique, otherworldly alchemy of Astral Weeks — an album that defied genre and time to become something closer to spiritual experience than pop record.

Artists from Bono to Bruce Springsteen have cited Astral Weeks as a major influence, and “Ballerina” is often singled out as one of Van Morrison most emotionally naked songs.

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Final Thoughts

“Ballerina” is more than a song. It’s a moment suspended in time, a fragile space where grief and hope collide, and where music becomes a vessel for transformation. It captures Van Morrison not as a performer, but as a conduit — channeling something deep, aching, and eternally human.

It doesn’t ask to be understood.
It asks to be felt.

Van Morrison – “Bring It On Home to Me”: A Celtic Soulman Tips His Hat to Sam Cooke

When Van Morrison takes on a classic like “Bring It On Home to Me,” you don’t get a simple cover—you get a conversation across generations. Originally written and recorded by Sam Cooke in 1962, this heart-wrenching ballad of longing and redemption is one of the defining tracks of soul music. But when Morrison steps up to the mic, the song becomes something more intimate, more searching—less polished, more human.

Best known for his genre-bending mix of R&B, jazz, folk, and blues, Morrison has always worn his soul influences proudly. His version of “Bring It On Home to Me” feels like a letter of respect to Cooke, wrapped in Morrison’s trademark vocal phrasing and spiritual depth.

The Original: A Soul Landmark

Sam Cooke’s original “Bring It On Home to Me” is pure soul—backed by gospel harmonies, swinging piano, and a vulnerable vocal delivery that aches with sincerity. It was a song of heartbreak, but also a plea for forgiveness—a man owning his mistakes and asking for a second chance.

It’s been covered by many—Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin, Rod Stewart, Paul McCartney—but few bring the same mix of grit and grace that Van Morrison does.

Van’s Take: Bluesy, Loose, and Full of Feeling

Morrison doesn’t imitate—he interprets. His version of “Bring It On Home to Me” (found on several live performances and recordings such as It’s Too Late to Stop Now sessions or in collaborative moments with guests like Bobby Womack or Georgie Fame) trades Cooke’s gospel backdrop for a more barroom-blues swing, often built around a tight rhythm section, walking bass, Hammond organ, and that ever-present saxophone swirl.

His delivery is unpolished and raw, letting his Belfast soul seep into every syllable. You can hear the breath, the crackle, the hesitation. Where Cooke pleaded, Morrison groans, shouts, and sighs—an older man not just asking for love to return, but wrestling with what it means to be broken.

“You know I tried to treat you right…”

That line hits differently when Van sings it. It’s not theatrical—it’s world-weary, steeped in experience and personal demons.

The Voice: Morrison’s Gritty Gospel

Van Morrison is known for treating his voice like an instrument—bending phrases, scatting mid-line, pulling syllables like taffy. On “Bring It On Home to Me,” he stretches the song’s simple structure into something expressive and lived-in.

He often avoids the smoother vocal path, choosing instead to gravel and growl through the heartbreak. And in doing so, he adds a new texture to a song already rich in emotional weight.

Where Sam Cooke’s version was all velvet, Van’s version is leather—cracked, seasoned, and wrapped around a bruised heart.

The Mood: A Pub at Midnight, Soul in the Air

When Morrison performs “Bring It On Home to Me,” it feels like the closing number at a smoky club—a final cry into the night before the lights come up. His band eases into it, letting the groove breathe, never rushing the emotion. The audience often falls silent, caught in the hush between words.

There’s something old-world about it, too. Even when playing a classic American soul song, Morrison brings a Celtic undertone—an understanding of longing that feels ancient.

Legacy: A Soul Classic Reimagined

While Morrison’s version isn’t the most famous, it stands out for its authenticity. It shows how a great song can become something new in the hands of a true artist, not through reinvention, but through genuine emotional transmission.

It’s also a reminder of Morrison’s deep respect for his musical ancestors. He has always stood at the crossroads of traditions—blending American R&B with Irish mysticism, jazz phrasing with streetwise blues.

Final Thoughts

Van Morrison’s “Bring It On Home to Me” isn’t flashy.
It’s not perfect.
But it’s real—and that’s why it resonates.

It’s a song sung by someone who’s loved and lost.
Who’s made mistakes.
And who’s still reaching for something better—even if it’s just one more chance.

In Morrison’s hands, Sam Cooke’s soul classic becomes not just a cover, but a communion.

Van Morrison – “Days Like This”: A Gentle Hymn of Hope and Harmony

In a world often defined by chaos, complication, and uncertainty, Van Morrison’s “Days Like This” feels like a deep, steady breath—a musical reminder that even in the midst of life’s storms, moments of peace and grace do exist.

Released in 1995 as the title track of Morrison’s Days Like This album, the song is a simple, soulful meditation on the kind of day where everything just feels… right. It’s not flashy or grandiose. But it doesn’t need to be. Its power lies in its calm. Its honesty. Its quiet celebration of the everyday.

And that’s exactly why it endures.

The Sound: Smooth, Soulful, and Warm

Musically, “Days Like This” draws from Van Morrison’s roots in soul, R&B, and jazz, with a soft swing and tasteful instrumentation that echoes the likes of Sam Cooke or Curtis Mayfield. The arrangement is elegant and restrained—gentle horns, brushed drums, smooth piano, and a soft female backing chorus that perfectly complements Morrison’s signature vocal style.

His voice here is more relaxed than raw—not demanding attention, but offering comfort. It feels like Morrison is sitting across the table from you, reflecting on a good day, inviting you to remember your own.

“When it’s not always raining / There’ll be days like this…”

Each verse acknowledges life’s burdens—worry, trouble, isolation—and then softly counters them with the simple truth that better days are not just possible; they are inevitable.

The Lyrics: Quiet Wisdom, Universal Truth

The beauty of “Days Like This” lies in its lyrical humility and universality. Morrison doesn’t try to dazzle with wordplay. Instead, he taps into the kind of emotional language we all recognize but rarely articulate.

“When you don’t need to worry / There’ll be days like this…”

Each line is a quiet reassurance. And the repetition of the title phrase—“There’ll be days like this”—becomes a mantra. Not as blind optimism, but as earned hope from someone who’s seen both joy and hardship.

In a world where music often dwells on pain or chases perfection, Morrison takes a different path. He reminds us to savor the ordinary miracles—the day when nothing goes wrong, when the heart feels light, when you remember what it’s like to just be.

Cultural Resonance: From Belfast to the Big Screen

Though not a major chart hit, “Days Like This” became one of Van Morrison’s most beloved modern songs. In his native Northern Ireland, it was adopted as a hopeful anthem during the 1998 peace process, used in political broadcasts as a message of reconciliation.

It has also been featured in films, commercials, and countless playlists devoted to comfort, healing, or reflection. Its message is timeless because its truth is simple: Life is hard. But sometimes, it’s not. And those moments matter.

Legacy: A Modern Spiritual Classic

Van Morrison is known for his mystical, often searching songwriting—masterpieces like Astral Weeks and Into the Mystic dive deep into the spiritual unknown. But with “Days Like This,” he brings that same soul inward and outward, showing that the divine can also be found in a quiet morning, a clear mind, or a heartfelt conversation.

It’s a song for weddings, memorials, long drives, and late nights. A companion for when you’re hurting—and a reminder, when you’re not, to be grateful.

Final Thoughts

“Days Like This” is a song for the soul.
It doesn’t try to fix anything or tell you how to live.
It just promises, with warmth and wisdom, that no matter what you’re going through—
there will be days like this.

And that might just be enough.