Post by TheWallsScreamedPoetry on Dec 30, 2004 19:20:13 GMT
Doors' Manzarek Shares Thoughts on Life with Morrison
Thirty-one years ago, Ray Manzarek's organ riff to "Light
My Fire" jarred loose a landslide that swept the American
counter culture to the nether reaches of the psychedelic
experience. Not only did the song earn the Doors a number
one single, it propelled their dark debut far past the pot
haze of happy hippy music and dared listeners to trip
along with decadent anti-hero Jim Morrison. The myth of
the Doors had begun, and its proportions have only
magnified with the passage of time (as the recent spate of
articles regarding Morrison's possible exhumation
illustrates). Now, after scores of bios, endless gossip
and a big-budget Hollywood movie, Manzarek weighs in with
his insider story of the mythic band, sharing his thoughts
on the Doors, his friend Jim Morrison, the music they
made, and what he really thinks about Oliver Stone.
When you think about the early years, does it surprise you
that you've now written a book about it?
Absolutely. You go back to 1965-66, we had nothing. It was
just two guys, a singer and a keyboard player. A
songwriter/poet and a keyboard player. Then getting the
other two guys, a drummer and a bass player, John Densmore
and Robbie Krieger, and just knocking on doors, going
around the town, trying to get people to listen to us and
listen to our music. We had nothing. We were broke. We
were flat broke. We were nobodies who had nothing, and
here I am thirty years later writing a book about it.
I hear that at book signings there's a lot of young kids.
Do you think Doors music is still potent?
Absolutely. They hear the jazz-rock elements in there,
they hear the John Coltrane and the Miles Davis and they
hear Jim's southern-gothic Carson McCullers-Tennessee
Williams-Arthur Rimbaud-French symbolist poetry, and they
hear the blues, and they hear the honest commitment to the
music. This is why we can't let the fascists joke about
the Sixties and the counter culture. Because we were
honestly, deeply committed to the music, there was no
cynicism. We believed. There was no irony. There's no
irony in the Doors music. There's no irony in my book. So,
for a lot of people in their thirties, this may not strike
the chord or ring the bell they want rung. But I think
that's what's translating to a lot of young people today,
is that they are really tired of the ironic stance that a
lot of people are taking.
How do you respond to critics who attack your lack of
cynicism?
Well, they lose. They don't get a ticket into the future.
If the critic does say that -- and a couple of critics
have said that about my book -- well, you lose. You're not
allowed into the twenty-first century. You're not allowed
into the future, the new age, the new era, the new time
that's just around the corner, after we realize the end of
the world is not coming. After we realize that the
apocalypse is not going to happen, the rapture will not
happen ... the only way to live life is with an avid
commitment, a deep passionate commitment to being alive.
And if you're not gonna live that way, you lose, man. So
my advice to all the cynics is to, if you dare, drop a
psychedelic.
Literally, dropping a psychedelic is a good idea?
I can't advocate it, because then I'd be arrested. I can
only tell you what worked for me. I'll tell you this, it
certainly worked for me, growing up a Catholic boy on the
South Side of Chicago and not understanding the meaning of
heaven and hell. I'd say, as William Blake said, if the
doors of perception are cleansed, man will see things as
they are: infinite. This is what the times, the Sixties
were all about, among other things. Stopping the war, of
course, and getting high and getting laid and having one
hell of a good time. And underneath it all was this drive
to transcendence, and you're either going for it, or
you're stuck in the mud. And right now we're all stuck in
the mud, a lot of us are stuck in the mud.
Thirty-one years ago, Ray Manzarek's organ riff to "Light
My Fire" jarred loose a landslide that swept the American
counter culture to the nether reaches of the psychedelic
experience. Not only did the song earn the Doors a number
one single, it propelled their dark debut far past the pot
haze of happy hippy music and dared listeners to trip
along with decadent anti-hero Jim Morrison. The myth of
the Doors had begun, and its proportions have only
magnified with the passage of time (as the recent spate of
articles regarding Morrison's possible exhumation
illustrates). Now, after scores of bios, endless gossip
and a big-budget Hollywood movie, Manzarek weighs in with
his insider story of the mythic band, sharing his thoughts
on the Doors, his friend Jim Morrison, the music they
made, and what he really thinks about Oliver Stone.
When you think about the early years, does it surprise you
that you've now written a book about it?
Absolutely. You go back to 1965-66, we had nothing. It was
just two guys, a singer and a keyboard player. A
songwriter/poet and a keyboard player. Then getting the
other two guys, a drummer and a bass player, John Densmore
and Robbie Krieger, and just knocking on doors, going
around the town, trying to get people to listen to us and
listen to our music. We had nothing. We were broke. We
were flat broke. We were nobodies who had nothing, and
here I am thirty years later writing a book about it.
I hear that at book signings there's a lot of young kids.
Do you think Doors music is still potent?
Absolutely. They hear the jazz-rock elements in there,
they hear the John Coltrane and the Miles Davis and they
hear Jim's southern-gothic Carson McCullers-Tennessee
Williams-Arthur Rimbaud-French symbolist poetry, and they
hear the blues, and they hear the honest commitment to the
music. This is why we can't let the fascists joke about
the Sixties and the counter culture. Because we were
honestly, deeply committed to the music, there was no
cynicism. We believed. There was no irony. There's no
irony in the Doors music. There's no irony in my book. So,
for a lot of people in their thirties, this may not strike
the chord or ring the bell they want rung. But I think
that's what's translating to a lot of young people today,
is that they are really tired of the ironic stance that a
lot of people are taking.
How do you respond to critics who attack your lack of
cynicism?
Well, they lose. They don't get a ticket into the future.
If the critic does say that -- and a couple of critics
have said that about my book -- well, you lose. You're not
allowed into the twenty-first century. You're not allowed
into the future, the new age, the new era, the new time
that's just around the corner, after we realize the end of
the world is not coming. After we realize that the
apocalypse is not going to happen, the rapture will not
happen ... the only way to live life is with an avid
commitment, a deep passionate commitment to being alive.
And if you're not gonna live that way, you lose, man. So
my advice to all the cynics is to, if you dare, drop a
psychedelic.
Literally, dropping a psychedelic is a good idea?
I can't advocate it, because then I'd be arrested. I can
only tell you what worked for me. I'll tell you this, it
certainly worked for me, growing up a Catholic boy on the
South Side of Chicago and not understanding the meaning of
heaven and hell. I'd say, as William Blake said, if the
doors of perception are cleansed, man will see things as
they are: infinite. This is what the times, the Sixties
were all about, among other things. Stopping the war, of
course, and getting high and getting laid and having one
hell of a good time. And underneath it all was this drive
to transcendence, and you're either going for it, or
you're stuck in the mud. And right now we're all stuck in
the mud, a lot of us are stuck in the mud.