After Tupelo Honey Van Morrison must have been faced with a choice. He could continue with his domestic tranquility myth, which was as artistically false as it might have been literally true, or he could head for new turf. He has chosen the latter course (wisely I think). If the result is more curious than classic, perhaps that is the price of adventure.

There are strands of nearly every kind of music Van Morrison has ever made in [St. Dominic's Preview]. It is short on the darkness and fire of Them, but the lilting r'n'b of "Domino" and "Blue Money," the exotic improvisation and searching of Astral Weeks and the mystic yearnings of Moondance are finally full-fledged. For the most part, St. Dominic's is old concerns seen in new lights, and a smattering of new ones, and the music follows suit.

If this record had followed Astral Weeks directly, it might have been both confusing and frustrating. At a distance of three years, St. Dominic's Preview somehow seems newly seminal, as though Van were finally capable of a conception that might transcend (though never drawf) the brilliance of Astral Weeks. I think Morrison has made a transitional album in a different way than Tupelo Honey was. The latter sounded like a summation: Preview might be just what it claims….

[For] a few numbers Van Morrison defines himself on terms as difficult and brilliant as any. "I shall search my very soul" comes from him not as the nebbish promise of the limpid balladeer, but as the committment of someone as strong as The Rock itself.

Morrison has a way of making spiritual statements, that would sound either false or trite from almost anyone else, valid and refreshing. He has always, I think, dealt with a certain kind of spiritual regeneration, a type of self-discovery that is continually essential and essentially continuous. (p. 54)

In a way, it is fitting that ["Independence Day"] ends the record, for more than anything else here "Independence Day" is the kind of song, both musically and lyrically, Van Morrison might be doing more of in the future. It is an intricate, detailed, painstaking search for an America Van sees with love, at a time when almost everyone else views it with fear and loathing.

This is not without its contradictions: "St. Dominic's Preview" is occasionally almost an indictment of America, not for any part in the Irish Wars, but merely for its attitudes in general….

Maybe I am overdrawing things, but it seems important to me that Van chose to make his comment on the struggle in Ireland by contrasting it with life in San Francisco. Perhaps, too, I am overextending myself by thinking that "they're trying hard to make this whole thing blend" is how an immigrant must look at politics in the U.S.…

[The recently released] Them, Featuring Van Morrison is a classic, two-record testament of middle '60's rock, wavering between the punky earth music of the British Invasion and the artistically outreaching eclecticism which characterized late '66 and '67.

All the music Van has ever made has its roots here, from the gutter-snipe hymn "Gloria," to the breathlessly beautiful "It's All Over Now Baby Blue," which might cut even Dylan's masterful performance. Almost all of it is primordial, earthshaking, phenomenal, a landmark in rock history. It is quite possible that Them's will be the longest lasting music of the middle '60's; even now, it sounds contemporary….

They were an Irish band, from Belfast, and those street-fight-in', belligerent Celtic roots showed through. Every cut here, no matter how tender the intent, is tough as nails….

Them Featuring Van Morrison is probably the most worthy reissue since UA's Legendary Master's Series last year; one would hope that London would continue to delve into its archives for some of the other excellent material it has around.

In any event, this reissue is a complete success. There is nothing left to ask, for the Van Morrison fan, at least not at the moment: the re-release of his blindingly brilliant old stuff and a stiffening of the spine on his new material. It's a delight. (p. 55)