Post by darkstar on Feb 7, 2005 12:01:25 GMT
POP EYE
by Richard Goldstein
Village Voice - January 22 1967
When The Doors appeared, backed by a sky-scraper of amplifiers, the crowd sat through some stunning improvisation, and someone actually shouted, "Bravo" when it was over.
The Doors begin where the Rolling Stones leave off. Lead singer Jim Morrison is never far from the sexual shaman Mick Jagger represents, but his is a darker, bleaker war dance. His hand cupped pillowlike over his ear, Morrison’s pudgy cherub face curls into a bristling lip. He stands like a creature out of Kenneth Anger, then sidles up to the mike, curls around its head, and belts—what he says has been called "Artaud Rock" by the UCLA Bruin, and I think the definition fits. It is cruel cool. The organ and guitar chatter in the background, and when they race through a bridge together, the urgent harmony between them is stunning. When the PA system begins to fight back, Morrison twists the neck of the microphone until the feedback itself becomes percussion.
by Richard Goldstein
Village Voice - January 22 1967
When The Doors appeared, backed by a sky-scraper of amplifiers, the crowd sat through some stunning improvisation, and someone actually shouted, "Bravo" when it was over.
The Doors begin where the Rolling Stones leave off. Lead singer Jim Morrison is never far from the sexual shaman Mick Jagger represents, but his is a darker, bleaker war dance. His hand cupped pillowlike over his ear, Morrison’s pudgy cherub face curls into a bristling lip. He stands like a creature out of Kenneth Anger, then sidles up to the mike, curls around its head, and belts—what he says has been called "Artaud Rock" by the UCLA Bruin, and I think the definition fits. It is cruel cool. The organ and guitar chatter in the background, and when they race through a bridge together, the urgent harmony between them is stunning. When the PA system begins to fight back, Morrison twists the neck of the microphone until the feedback itself becomes percussion.