Van Morrison at Electric Picnic: Not quite an old snuggly blanket, but when he’s this good he’s wonderful

Van MorrisonMain Stage, Electric Picnic★★★★☆It’s Van Morrison’s final day of being 80, but Belfast’s finest is not ready to celebrate his birthday just yet. The iconic singer and songwriter is famous for his onstage unpredictability – gruff, taciturn and abrupt, on a good day – and before his midafternoon performance on the Main Stage at Electric Picnic on Sunday his imminent arrival feels like Irish festival weather: highly unpredictable, with a chance of thunder.And still the faithful arrive: young, old, huddled in raincoats, gathered in reverent swells, one man finishing off a Cornetto, many wondering which version of Morrison we’ll get and whether there’s a chance he’ll slip his biggest hits into his hour-long set. Is Moondance an option? Jackie Wilson Said? Into the Mystic?Question asked, question answered from the get-go. Introduced by his wingman – he has eight backing musicians on stage – Morrison wastes no time in delivering a jazzy, low-key version of Into the Mystic before segueing effortlessly into Kidney Stew Blues, from his recent LP Somebody Tried to Sell Me a Bridge, his 48th studio album and his seventh in the 2020s. Some of the crowd clap along as the groove kicks in: lively, upbeat and warm. Morrison is in mirrored aviators with a blue fedora and matching blue suit; his band are in smart, subtle black. READ MOREAlternating between saxophone and tambourine, he effortlessly moves from one song to the next, flipping back and forth through the decades, sometimes into head-scratching obscurity, sometimes into anthems for the ages. Then – joy! – he kicks into Days Like This. If it’s not bang on the original arrangement, it’s very close. It feel like a reward for surviving the weekend’s rain – which is back to pummel the crowd, having cleared off just minutes before Morrison took the stage. A quarter of an hour into the set, the rain is slanting down so hard that the ink on your correspondent’s paper runs and whipping out an iPhone to take notes looks like a path for certain destruction. Morrison doesn’t acknowledge the rain or the crowd. He doesn’t talk at all, except for a couple of terse notes to his band.It’s a set that’s not for the big screens or the TikTok purveyors – there are audience lulls, and there’s plenty of chatter at times – but it’s musically almost faultless, material arranged to get lost in, about the feel, not the look, about navigating a space beyond words. Jackie Wilson Said (I’m in Heaven When You Smile) elicits a thrilled yelp from the audience. Real Real Gone, from Enlightenment, Morrison’s 1990 album, goes down even better. Deluge aside, there’s great comfort in a set like this, particularly at the end of the weekend; it’d be a stretch to say Morrison is like an old snuggly blanket, but when he’s good he’s wonderful.After he leaves on a rousing Gloria, some members of the crowd start singing Happy Birthday to him. They know full well he can’t hear it. And maybe if he could he wouldn’t care. But it’s a thank you all the same.For all the latest festival news, reviews and more, download the Irish Times app