Van Morrison "Moondance" [1970]

As soon as the 70s started, the fun of the 60s ended. No record depicts this sad chapter of Western history more than Van Morrison's "Moondance," a sluggish compilation of un-crisp approximations of soul music by a pitchy Mick who couldn't carry Marvin Gaye's jockstrap. Van is constantly being bowled over by the lovers, music and drugs in his life during the course of "Moondance," and listening to his vocal delivery throughout, one can only guess that all three are due to extremely poor decision-making. He sounds like a tenor sax honking amateurishly over the band at the lame supper club, rambling inexpertly and lunging desperately for what someone, anyone might perceive as being "soulful" ("funky" left his place long before he ever got started). And because this approach gave that Counting Crows bastard the idea to do the same thing, Van loses extra points. In short, "blue-eyed soul" is as real as the Easter Bunny, and on "Moondance," Van dons the rabbit ears and fuzzy tail.