Back in the 90s, one of my favorite things to do when visiting a friend’s house was checking out their CD collection. I’d see what’s new, what’s gone, and what’s worn. Visiting a well curated CD collection was also my main way of discovering music that was new to me. Often, among Phish and Grateful Dead collections, I’d spot Astral Weeks by Van Morrison. I’ve always found it odd that Astral Weeks was usually the only Van Morrison album in these collections–no debut album with “Brown Eyed Girl,” no Tupelo Honey, only Astral Weeks with its introspective album cover. Recently I set out to discover why this particular Van Morrison album often stands alone.

Astral Weeks is Van Morrison’s second solo album. It was produced by Lewis Merenstein and released on November 29, 1968. Before going solo, Morrison fronted the Belfast rock band Them for a few years. Them turned out remarkable hits like “Gloria,” “Here Comes the Night,” and “Baby, Please Don’t Go.” By comparison, Astral Weeks contained no notable singles. Yet, even though the album only attained gold status in the U.S., it remains a favorite among critics and artists. 

The opening title track sets a pensive, cosmic mood. “Astral Weeks,” the song, runs just over 7 minutes and alternates between two chords for most of that time. Morrison’s voice and lyrics take centerstage. Strings and flutes flow between the strums of his acoustic guitar. Noticeable drums don’t appear until side two. “The Way Young Lovers Do” foreshadows the jazzier sound he’d explore on Moondance. “Slim Slow Slider” winds the album to a mellow end. 

For an album that doesn’t seem too concerned with mass appeal, Astral Weeks has influenced countless artists. It’s difficult to not hear its sway in songs like U2’s “All I Want Is You” and Radiohead’s “Airbag.” Each song on Astral Weeks has its own strength. But each song also contributes to the power of the whole album, as if the whole thing were one long song. 

After hearing Astral Weeks, I’ve enjoyed exploring Van Morrison’s catalog. St. Dominic’s Preview and His Band and the Street Choir surprised me because I had no idea they even existed–such quality, such depth. Although, it’s lost on me why his sixth album, Tupelo Honey, is absent from streaming platforms.