Post by darkstar on Jan 1, 2005 23:56:40 GMT
JIM MORRISON & THE DOORS OF PERCEPTION
By Matthew Bolton and Steven Davies
Idols – 20th Century Legends UK Magazine Vol. 1 No. 3 1988
The gatekeeper at the Paris cemetery looks to the skies, palms raised, moans in frustration: “Morrison, again!”<br>
In now impeccable English he guides the thousands of people every year to the supposed final resting place of one James Douglas Morrison.
Jim Morrison: Man, god or demigod? To our minds, yes to all of these at different times. The all too brief flight of this human comet – from shaggy adolescence to presumed drug-induced death in Paris – illuminated Rock’s skyscraper as only the truly greats have.
Morrison, of course does live on. His talent, perception, depth and breath of vision and The Doors’ musical style, inspires more people today than when the band were at their peak. In the cynical terms of the music business, sales of Doors albums are better than ever.
The Doors continuing high status today begs the question, why? The answer surely lies, as it does with all the great rock ‘n’ roll bands, in the magic they created either live or in the studio. The music and lyrics of the bands of the sixties and early seventies generated their magnetism and power. But at the core were the personalities.
Jim Morrison had that magic, dynamism and charisma, to protect his personality and vision – the latter being infinitely greater than that of his audience or most of his contemporaries.
Morrison’s vision or message was that what were regarded as “everyday experiences” should and could be larger than the life as led by most of the people on the planet. An avid and long time reader of philosophical tracts, through his lyrics, Morrison articulated in rock terms a theory advocated by Nietzche and others of Man becoming godlike.
Not a god of idolatory like the one of the Christian churches, but one of the self – heightened awareness and an attunement with all living things and a person’s place among them.
The name of the band reflects this, The Doors was taken from a then infamous and lengthy essay by Aldous Huxley, called “The Doors Of Perception.” In it Huxley advocates the regular use hallucinogenics as practiced by aboriginal peoples throughout the world, but especially by many Mexican Indian tribes, and a necessary part of their lives.
The title of Huxley’s book was taken from a line from William Blake, who work Morrison was also familiar with. “If the doors of perception were cleansed, man could see things as they truly are: infinite.”<br>
Through Morrison’s lyrics and the band’s music, The Doors strove to a medium for people to achieve this higher, fuller, and possibly truer state of awareness and being. The 196-‘s – although known for the embracing of a wide range of styles and schools of thought – didn’t really know how to take The Doors and the release of their self – titled first album in 1966. Morrison, with the body of an athlete and the face of a fallen cherub, was seen on the one hand as “an erotic politician, interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity which seems to have no meaning,” and on the other as the best teenage pin-up for girls since Elvis Presley.
It’s no wonder then that The Doors appeal sat between the intelligentsia and bubble gum chewing, bobby socked, predominantly female teenagers. They were uneasily accepted by the underground and the mainstream.
STYLES
Much of the unease sprang from the fact that The Doors’ music was borrowed from a wide range of styles: from flamenco to jazz, and from Asian music to essential rock/blues. It all came together so well because of the talent of the musicians and their phrasing of the material and Morrison’s ability to graphically articulate his apocalyptic vision.
Ray Manzarek on keyboards had a love for the blues and had studied classical piano, the guitarist Robby Krieger was into jazz and flamenco, while drummer John Densmore had played jazz and rock in various bands.
Morrison lived what he believed. And his life away from the public gaze of studio and stage was just as outrageous, providing magazine editors with many column inches of good copy on his antics.
His notorious actions extended to things like throwing away a suite of unborn pony skin after being told it looked like ordinary leather; constantly arriving late and heavily drunk or stoned at concerts; and continually seducing large numbers of his nubile fans.
In short, he didn’t have the rock ethos. He was a rock ethos. Morrison combined a contempt for living with a love of living. A cocktail that at times was destructive, and at other times was destructive, and at other times magically constructive.
Interestedly, Morrison’s lifestyle and personality as a rock star varied little during his earlier life. While at college his antics had become too much for the people he shared a house with. They asked him to pack his books and leave at the end of the first term because Jim was just being, well, Jim. He them moved into a trailer by himself with his extensive collection of books.
Morrison has always taken great please in shocking and impressing people with intellectual feats. At college he would ask acquaintances to select a book from his library and read him the first sentence. He unfailingly then provided them with the book’s title and author.
PHILOSOPHY
He reveled in discussions about works of literature and philosophy with his lecturers. Many of these extremely perceptive discourses on abstract concepts left fellow students bamboozled and confused.
Some of his lectures outracised him while a few others were encouraging and supportive. For a while Morrison also studied film at UCLA. Another film student at the college was later to pay The Doors their greatest tribute. Could director Francis Ford Coppola have chosen a better song to flavor “Apocalypse Now” than “The End?”<br>
In fact, the original pop promo for the vivid apocalyptic song opens with a shot through the bomb bay of a US plane unleashing destruction on Vietnam, “lost in a Roman wilderness of pain.”<br>
“Apocalypse Now” was largely based on one of Joseph Conrad’s most acclaimed and misunderstood novels, “Heart Of Darkness.” It was also one Morrison’s favorites.
Originally Morrison’s main interest were in poetry and the cinema. In high school he had shown a spectacular disregard for study. Only matched by the spectacular grades he achieved. This pattern continued at UCLA.
Apart from a clip for The Doors song “The Unknown Soldier” one of the couple of films he ever made was an undisciplined and complex work for his final examination at UCLA. The ensuing negative reactions of both students and lecturers, including his staunchest supporters, prompted him to quit. The next few months saw Morrison living among the drop puts and artists of Venice Beach, L.A. On a diet consisting largely of alcohol and LSD, Morrison went through his most productive period of writing poetry.
It was then that Manzarek met up again with Morrison after meeting at UCLA, and first heard the words to “Moonlight Drive.” However, Morrison’s interest in poetry never waned. Apart from writing lyrics for The Doors, he completed a poetic tour de force in album form, “An American Prayer.”<br>
The almost exclusively autobiographical material in “American Prayer” was set to music by The Doors and was added to the list of Morrison’s published works. “An American Prayer” recorded on December 8, 1970. Morrison’s 27th birthday, was described by one studio observer, thus:
“He was using words not so much for their logic as for their emotive effect…The words didn’t have to mean so much as imply or suggest. He used words to create a vast mural of feeling; I felt like a swimmer in heavy sea – it was alright as long as I let the swell of words carry me along, but if I tried to fathom the meaning or understanding, I was quickly under water.”<br>
Morrison left the session feeling immensely satisfied. He was so pleased that he decided to return to dedicating more energy to writing poetry.
To this end, just as the last two tracks of the highly successful “L.A. Woman” album were being mixed, he made up his mind to make the fateful trip to Paris to write.
The official reason for Morrison’s death is given as a heart attack induced by respiratory problems. It appears that this, in turn, was induced by large intakes of alcohol and heroin – a drug which Morrison never injected, but only snorted.
However, controversy continues, in one form or another, as to whether Morrison did actually die. Before leaving the states he had been talking about faking his death and hiding out in Africa to return to impress another generation. But the doubts are mostly fueled by the anonymity of the doctor who signed the death certificate and the fact that no autopsy was carried out – standard procedure in a sudden death.
This made Morrison’s long time girlfriend Pamela Courson, the only traceable person who’d seen the body. At best she could be described as an unreliable witness. A heroin user of long standing, Courson’s statements raise more questions than they answer. She subsequently died of an overdose in 1974.
But 16 years after Morrison’s death, the gatekeepers at the Paris cemetery still guide the pilgrims to what they regard as either a shrine to an immortal, or the final resting place of one James Douglas Morrison.
By Matthew Bolton and Steven Davies
Idols – 20th Century Legends UK Magazine Vol. 1 No. 3 1988
The gatekeeper at the Paris cemetery looks to the skies, palms raised, moans in frustration: “Morrison, again!”<br>
In now impeccable English he guides the thousands of people every year to the supposed final resting place of one James Douglas Morrison.
Jim Morrison: Man, god or demigod? To our minds, yes to all of these at different times. The all too brief flight of this human comet – from shaggy adolescence to presumed drug-induced death in Paris – illuminated Rock’s skyscraper as only the truly greats have.
Morrison, of course does live on. His talent, perception, depth and breath of vision and The Doors’ musical style, inspires more people today than when the band were at their peak. In the cynical terms of the music business, sales of Doors albums are better than ever.
The Doors continuing high status today begs the question, why? The answer surely lies, as it does with all the great rock ‘n’ roll bands, in the magic they created either live or in the studio. The music and lyrics of the bands of the sixties and early seventies generated their magnetism and power. But at the core were the personalities.
Jim Morrison had that magic, dynamism and charisma, to protect his personality and vision – the latter being infinitely greater than that of his audience or most of his contemporaries.
Morrison’s vision or message was that what were regarded as “everyday experiences” should and could be larger than the life as led by most of the people on the planet. An avid and long time reader of philosophical tracts, through his lyrics, Morrison articulated in rock terms a theory advocated by Nietzche and others of Man becoming godlike.
Not a god of idolatory like the one of the Christian churches, but one of the self – heightened awareness and an attunement with all living things and a person’s place among them.
The name of the band reflects this, The Doors was taken from a then infamous and lengthy essay by Aldous Huxley, called “The Doors Of Perception.” In it Huxley advocates the regular use hallucinogenics as practiced by aboriginal peoples throughout the world, but especially by many Mexican Indian tribes, and a necessary part of their lives.
The title of Huxley’s book was taken from a line from William Blake, who work Morrison was also familiar with. “If the doors of perception were cleansed, man could see things as they truly are: infinite.”<br>
Through Morrison’s lyrics and the band’s music, The Doors strove to a medium for people to achieve this higher, fuller, and possibly truer state of awareness and being. The 196-‘s – although known for the embracing of a wide range of styles and schools of thought – didn’t really know how to take The Doors and the release of their self – titled first album in 1966. Morrison, with the body of an athlete and the face of a fallen cherub, was seen on the one hand as “an erotic politician, interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity which seems to have no meaning,” and on the other as the best teenage pin-up for girls since Elvis Presley.
It’s no wonder then that The Doors appeal sat between the intelligentsia and bubble gum chewing, bobby socked, predominantly female teenagers. They were uneasily accepted by the underground and the mainstream.
STYLES
Much of the unease sprang from the fact that The Doors’ music was borrowed from a wide range of styles: from flamenco to jazz, and from Asian music to essential rock/blues. It all came together so well because of the talent of the musicians and their phrasing of the material and Morrison’s ability to graphically articulate his apocalyptic vision.
Ray Manzarek on keyboards had a love for the blues and had studied classical piano, the guitarist Robby Krieger was into jazz and flamenco, while drummer John Densmore had played jazz and rock in various bands.
Morrison lived what he believed. And his life away from the public gaze of studio and stage was just as outrageous, providing magazine editors with many column inches of good copy on his antics.
His notorious actions extended to things like throwing away a suite of unborn pony skin after being told it looked like ordinary leather; constantly arriving late and heavily drunk or stoned at concerts; and continually seducing large numbers of his nubile fans.
In short, he didn’t have the rock ethos. He was a rock ethos. Morrison combined a contempt for living with a love of living. A cocktail that at times was destructive, and at other times was destructive, and at other times magically constructive.
Interestedly, Morrison’s lifestyle and personality as a rock star varied little during his earlier life. While at college his antics had become too much for the people he shared a house with. They asked him to pack his books and leave at the end of the first term because Jim was just being, well, Jim. He them moved into a trailer by himself with his extensive collection of books.
Morrison has always taken great please in shocking and impressing people with intellectual feats. At college he would ask acquaintances to select a book from his library and read him the first sentence. He unfailingly then provided them with the book’s title and author.
PHILOSOPHY
He reveled in discussions about works of literature and philosophy with his lecturers. Many of these extremely perceptive discourses on abstract concepts left fellow students bamboozled and confused.
Some of his lectures outracised him while a few others were encouraging and supportive. For a while Morrison also studied film at UCLA. Another film student at the college was later to pay The Doors their greatest tribute. Could director Francis Ford Coppola have chosen a better song to flavor “Apocalypse Now” than “The End?”<br>
In fact, the original pop promo for the vivid apocalyptic song opens with a shot through the bomb bay of a US plane unleashing destruction on Vietnam, “lost in a Roman wilderness of pain.”<br>
“Apocalypse Now” was largely based on one of Joseph Conrad’s most acclaimed and misunderstood novels, “Heart Of Darkness.” It was also one Morrison’s favorites.
Originally Morrison’s main interest were in poetry and the cinema. In high school he had shown a spectacular disregard for study. Only matched by the spectacular grades he achieved. This pattern continued at UCLA.
Apart from a clip for The Doors song “The Unknown Soldier” one of the couple of films he ever made was an undisciplined and complex work for his final examination at UCLA. The ensuing negative reactions of both students and lecturers, including his staunchest supporters, prompted him to quit. The next few months saw Morrison living among the drop puts and artists of Venice Beach, L.A. On a diet consisting largely of alcohol and LSD, Morrison went through his most productive period of writing poetry.
It was then that Manzarek met up again with Morrison after meeting at UCLA, and first heard the words to “Moonlight Drive.” However, Morrison’s interest in poetry never waned. Apart from writing lyrics for The Doors, he completed a poetic tour de force in album form, “An American Prayer.”<br>
The almost exclusively autobiographical material in “American Prayer” was set to music by The Doors and was added to the list of Morrison’s published works. “An American Prayer” recorded on December 8, 1970. Morrison’s 27th birthday, was described by one studio observer, thus:
“He was using words not so much for their logic as for their emotive effect…The words didn’t have to mean so much as imply or suggest. He used words to create a vast mural of feeling; I felt like a swimmer in heavy sea – it was alright as long as I let the swell of words carry me along, but if I tried to fathom the meaning or understanding, I was quickly under water.”<br>
Morrison left the session feeling immensely satisfied. He was so pleased that he decided to return to dedicating more energy to writing poetry.
To this end, just as the last two tracks of the highly successful “L.A. Woman” album were being mixed, he made up his mind to make the fateful trip to Paris to write.
The official reason for Morrison’s death is given as a heart attack induced by respiratory problems. It appears that this, in turn, was induced by large intakes of alcohol and heroin – a drug which Morrison never injected, but only snorted.
However, controversy continues, in one form or another, as to whether Morrison did actually die. Before leaving the states he had been talking about faking his death and hiding out in Africa to return to impress another generation. But the doubts are mostly fueled by the anonymity of the doctor who signed the death certificate and the fact that no autopsy was carried out – standard procedure in a sudden death.
This made Morrison’s long time girlfriend Pamela Courson, the only traceable person who’d seen the body. At best she could be described as an unreliable witness. A heroin user of long standing, Courson’s statements raise more questions than they answer. She subsequently died of an overdose in 1974.
But 16 years after Morrison’s death, the gatekeepers at the Paris cemetery still guide the pilgrims to what they regard as either a shrine to an immortal, or the final resting place of one James Douglas Morrison.