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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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