First published by L.S. Media on January 25th 2012.
I admit my musical relationship with The Doors is not what it could have been. I didn’t appreciate the American band at all. The reason for this rather glib demonstration of lack of musical compatibility is down to a girl I used to date who had the most overpowering and dedicated crush on Jim Morrison. No not a crush, she lived, breathed and dreamt of him, not a problem, that didn’t bother me. It was being called Jim that got me down about the band…for the record my name is not Jim!
Through this warped vision of the band I missed the delights of listening to a musical poet in his prime and before his sad and destructive death. Not for me, the originality of the music that thrilled a generation and beyond, for me it was go round girls house, music would go on, it’s The Doors once again. Well surprise, surprise!
Over the years, I’ve maintained a healthy arm’s length distance from the band. I’ve heard the odd single on the radio or various functions or salubrious parties but have managed to tune out, have a conversation with the host and move on. As I’ve got older though; I feel that I may have been too harsh on the group! Sure the odd snippet of Riders on the Storm has filtered through my brain and I’ve smiled at the word play, the working out of the anagram of Mr. Mojo Risin’ (Jim Morrison), the rather delicate and subtle piano playing of Ray Manzarek, the excellent drum patterns of John Densmore and the generous and eclectic guitar playing of Robby Krieger.
Where to start though with a band that reached millions but left me alone at the back of the hall not exactly sure of what all the fuss was about. Two things made my decision easier than I thought with a separate and otherwise uneventful trip to a well-known book-seller where, mooching for books on any Liverpool band I could find, I came across a book of Jim Morrison’s original poetry titled The Lords. The New Creatures. Flicking through the pages with one eye on purchase and wondering if the card the store gave me without checking how many books I buy a year had enough points on it to save me spending any cash, I realised what better way than to start at the end. My rather obscured decision making was to be confirmed when I realised that The Doors sixth and final studio album L.A. Woman was to be re-released for its 40th Anniversary.
It seemed a good bet, wipe the slate clean. Look at one of the best bands America produced in the 60’s and hopefully, possibly finally get what the deal was. It could only go one way or the other really!
The inlay card of the C.D. has a quote on it from Jim Morrison on he described the new album “Blues, Original blues, if there’s such a thing.” Perhaps he was being kind; it may have been a cool thing to assure the fans that they were doing what was needed to get Jim Morrison to record an album after various melt downs and bad publicity. Whatever the reason; listening to the album with a 21st perspective, it doesn’t really come across as such, haphazard in a way certainly, but that was the bands and Jim Morrison’s way.
The album opens with the sensual sound of rain falling, the delicate sound of a thunderstorm which melds and combines quickly with Manzarek’s almost brilliant piano and organ depiction echoing the oncoming storm of outrageously good poetry fused with music that quite honestly I could kick myself for not enjoying earlier. The opening track is of course is The Changling and it may sound basic upon first listen, the keys being played as if there may be no thought but on second go, I got it! It’s rising and descending key patterns mirroring almost the intensity of feeling the band must have been going through. This sentiment is echoed throughout The Changling where the lyrics break your heart. “I need a brand new friend/The End”, Jim Morrison writes with one eye on a future, that sadly would never be in one respect and chillingly accurate in another.
Even without realising it, I was beginning to enjoy the album, Ray’s melodies were soul grabbing in a way I hadn’t felt till I remembered something similar done by the Eagles for their superb studio album Long Road out of Eden. This was music that was ahead of its time, sure there was good old fashioned blues in there somewhere but it had elements of the progressive scene that was to burgeon in the 1970’s. L’ America is a fine example as its sweeping piano moments are just divine. It also had the lyrics to back it up with its suggestible knowing winks of words that are dying to be sang, to be allowed airtime but never quite daring to show themselves. This was daring, it’s exciting and alongside Ray’s musical talent and the heart thumping bass, it’s a gem of a track.
L.A. Woman was the last album to be recorded by Jim Morrison, its final message to fans of the tortured genius is one that can be read, re-read and scanned over a thousand times. The sometimes haunting words and almost self interest in survival is paramount but even the haunting words such as “All the love is gone” on Love her Madly betrays the man and the quite brilliant music that band put together only enforces this album as a classic and one that I am finally glad to have heard several times without breaking into a cold sweat.
I may never be able to claim to be a great lover of the band however after all this time I can honestly say that L.A. Woman is an album of such depth, sheer and utterly stunning magnitude with its heart-breaking conclusion that I, as a lover of music, feel ashamed to have neglected the band for so long.
Ian D. Hall