Did something completely nutty the other day and listened to ALL SEVEN Jim Morrison-era Doors albums (including the posthumously released "An American Prayer", some of which was totally new to me). The others were quite familiar - old ground I travelled many years ago and frankly wondered if I'd ever revisit. There is only so much music you can fit into your life and I had long since written the Doors off as a group that didn't make it into adulthood with me. I was a huge fan in high school and college, had all of the important albums on cassette (although had only upgraded two of them to CD). I had read "No One Here Gets Out Alive", owned a copy of "Wilderness" (Jim's unique poetry) , burned out a VHS copy of "Live at The Hollywood Bowl", and went with a group of college friends to see Oliver Stone's biopic as soon as it was released. My freshman roommate was a big fan and I recall vividly his criticizing my drunken drumming-along (slapping my palms to my legs) to "Light My Fire" while he was trying to sleep (he was a drummer himself, so his critique had an added weight). A also recall, the following year, sitting in a friend's apartment riding on a mellow mushroom high when someone in the room pointed out a poster of Morrison on the wall (the iconic "American Poet", Jim-as-Jesus pose, and likely the same poster I had had on my dorm wall the previous year -- between a poster of the Old Man With Lantern from Led Zeppelin IV, complete with Stairway lyrics, and a poster featuring an anonymous scantily-clad woman and bearing the slogan "Man Cannot Live on Beer Alone" - which speaks volumes on both my own intellectual and maturity level at the time, as well as the depth of the philosophical and literary contributions of the Lizard King). At any rate, regarding this other person's Jim poster, the commenter questioned whether Jim Morrison idolatry should really be practiced by someone who has already graduated from the twelfth grade. I remember tittering along as the accused fumbled weakly to justify the poster, all the while feeling inwardly red-faced at the realization that I, too, still appreciated the poet/singer - a fact that I suddenly saw as a mark of obvious immaturity.
As it happened, my interest in the Doors did genuinely begin to wane in those college years as I was introduced to music beyond Classic Rock. Groups like the Stones, Beatles and Pink Floyd continued to interest me and still get regular play on my stereo, but the Doors fell by the wayside (The Who did too, actually, although I was never nearly as into them as I was into Jim and company). Over the years I've almost completely ignored the group, dismissing them from my musical landscape. Once in a while I'd let a song play on the radio, or watch a few minutes of "Hollywood Bowl" on VH1 Classic, mainly for the nostalgia, but otherwise I haven't really had much time for the group. As I started to collect vinyl I usually skipped over the Doors section at the stores. Once in a while, for curiosity's sake, I'd examine a copy of the first album or LA Woman. But the discs were usually over-priced for the quality of the vinyl, and for my interest level. Then one day I picked up an imperfect copy of The Soft Parade for cheap. I recalled having a particular affinity for that album and when I took it home and played it I found that the songs were still sounding great and I began to open my mind just a little to once again appreciating the band's music. I later picked up Strange Days on LP and, while I was a bit less impressed with that one, the record left me with a rekindled (although relatively weak) Doors fever. I set about acquiring the 5 Morrison-era CDs I didn't already own and decided to jump right into the deep end by playing them all back-to-back, in order (although in going from memory I screwed up the order a bit).
I have to take a moment to thank Silvie, who was kind enough to tolerate this undertaking. Actually she was typically game for such madness and passed the time crafting alongside of me on the couch (more on that in a later post). She is generally pretty neutral about The Doors and during the evening made occasional welcome remarks such as "So far this is the most circusy song we've heard" (Alabama Song) and "Back Door Man? Isn't that the same thing Led Zeppelin sang about? Did they steal blues songs, too?"
My impressions throughout the evening were generally along the lines of a fair-to-middling appreciation of the hits, welcome re-acquaintance with some forgotten gems ("Yes the River Knows" and Hyacinth House" for example), and the noting (often aloud) of what I would consider filler, seemingly on each disc. I concluded that, allmusic.com-be-damned, I still consider The Soft Parade to be my favorite Doors album, and I ended up throwing a dozen or so tunes from various discs into the ipod. The group's best songs really are up there with my favorite songs of all-time ("The End", "LA Woman" and "Wishful Sinful", to name three) and I'll likely add the four missing Doors LPs to my shelves eventually. I regained an appreciation for Jim Morrison (although in a bit less elevated sense than I had back in the day -- I still appreciate his lyrics, but am less inclined to call him a poet, and recognize his strong song-writing and vocal skills, diminished for me, but still worthy). Incidentally, I also came to learn that guitarist Robbie Krieger's songwriting contributions were far more noteworthy than I ever suspected. I still like Robbie's understated and great playing, John Densmore's skillful, impassioned drumming, and even Ray Manzarek's ubiquitous keys (I prefer his piano-playing to organ, but you have to give the man props for handling some of the band's bass duties on a keyboard). In summation, listening to the Doors again was like catching up with an old friend who hasn't changed much over the years, and whose many qualities and quirks you immediately recognize all over again making you wonder why it took so long for you to look them up. You promise to stay in touch, but you realize that they probably won't be much of a presence in your life in the foreseeable future - and that's okay too.
