Dylan Jones
Dylan Jones is the former editor of GQ and the Evening Standard. He has written books on David Bowie, The Velvet Underground and Jim Morrison.

Van Morrison’s five-night residency at London’s Olympia – reopened in June after a £1.3bn redevelopment – is something of a coup for the venue, as the veteran musician tends to prefer the hallowed environment of the Albert Hall. But on his opening night in the event centre’s new 3,800-capacity concert hall – the rather cavernous British Airways ARC – he gave a triumphant performance.

The person Morrison is most often compared to is another musical genius who first emerged in the 60s, Bob Dylan. And while they share a similar cultural trajectory, in terms of live performance there is one salient difference: Van Morrison can sing. Properly sing.

Listening to the Northern Irish musician’s career through the likes of “Moondance”, “Tore Down a la Rimbaud”, “Dweller on the Threshold” or “Gloria” (he played them all), you’re hearing a man whose voice hasn’t appeared to change in 60 years.

Turn up to watch Dylan and you’ll see an 85-year-old grouch leaning against a keyboard he never plays, grunting along to his greatest hits (maybe – often they’re indecipherable). Watch Morrison and you’ll think he has somehow discovered the secret of longevity.

He might not have the range he once did, and he is unlikely to storm around the stage like he did in Martin Scorsese’s film of the final Band concert, The Last Waltz, from 1976, and yet there is power and lyricism to Morrison’s singing voice that still has the power to move you. It certainly moves me. And it moved me last night: so much so that when I got home, I immediately put on his classic 1974 live album, It’s Too Late to Stop Now, just to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming.

Like most Morrison concerts – and to be fair, like most of Bob Dylan’s – this was an idiosyncratic mix of the classic, the esoteric and the traditional, including “Kidney Stew Blues”, “Snatch It Back and Hold It”, “Play the Honky Tonks” and “Madame Butterfly Blues” from his most recent album Somebody Tried to Sell Me a Bridge (oh my word does Van love playing the blues).

There was “Down to Joy”, the theme to Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast (and one of the songs on last year’s Remembering Now, which, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention, is the best Van album for 30 years), and a host of Morrison curios.

The highlights for me were hearing Van lovingly pursue “Green Rocky Road” from 2023’s Moving on Skiffle; “Enlightenment” (one of his Indian-summer barnstormers from the 90s); “Goin’ Down Geneva” segueing into “Brand New Cadillac”; and “Real Real Gone” fused with “You Send Me”.

His current band have a musicality that they are encouraged to display, with Morrison conducting them like a proper band leader, telling them when to solo, when to step up, and – quickly now! – when to fade away. Just watching this is fascinating in itself, as he manages to steer them while also playing guitar, saxophone and mouth organ (thankfully not all at the same time). And singing, of course – don’t forget the singing.

Oh, and for those who claim he never plays your favourites, he encored with “Into the Mystic”, from 1970’s Moondance, a song he told me last year in Belfast was his favourite Morrison song of them all. Turn up tonight and he’ll no doubt play it.

Unless he doesn’t, of course. But just be grateful he’s not intending to bring Bob Dylan on for a duet.

To 29 September, Olympia, London. Tickets at olympia.co.uk