let's carp about classic rock

"Jackie Wilson said, 'I'm in heaven when you smile,'" so sang the formidable man on the stage of Berkeley's Greek Theater. That man, of course, was none other than Van Morrison, who was playing to a sold-out crowd, many of whose members had shelled out $125 to hear him sing tunes old and new. The good news is that Van is in fine voice. Morrison has gotten one of the best blues vocal instruments around. There's no disputing he's a legend. Even as a fairly recent fan, I'd heard that he is unpredictable in concert. I decided days before the show to risk it, and picked up a pair of tix for $150. You only live once, right, and here was a chance to hear one of the greatest pop/rock artists in my back yard. What the hell.

At 7:30 p.m., the sun making a hasty exit, Van's band came out to warm up the audience. They were just a tease, though, and soon enough, Mr. Morrison made his way to the stage. Van opened with a tasty mix of songs, including the title track from 1990's "Enlightenment," a couple of tunes from "Pay the Devil," including "There Stands the Glass." It was all wonderfully pleasant, though I kept wanting him to kick it up into a higher gear. His cover of "St. James Infirmary" was soulful, hot, and really lovely. Afterwards, he segued into "Moondance," "Jackie Wilson Said," "Brown-Eyed Girl," "Gloria," and that's where the trouble started.

The aforementioned songs are indubitably part of the rock 'n' roll canon, but as served up last night, their vitality was diminished, the edges were all gone. It was as if Van had turned his own songbook into Muzak. He exited after giving most of the crowd what they wanted. I just felt jaded after barely 90 minutes of entertainment. I kept thinking of the musicians whose music I love that really work hard to please their fans: Lucinda Williams, Elvis Costello, even the eccentric Rickie Lee Jones.

In the case of last night's Van Morrison show, I'm willing to cop to being a crank, a curmudgeon. But I wasn't grooving like the rest of the (mostly) boomer crowd, and felt my familiar fish-out-of-water self. Yep, it sucked. I'd like to be able to revel in such moments, instead I was outside, looking in, the disgruntled observer. As I write this, I'm listening to Van's "St. Dominic's Preview," so I guess all is not lost.