The Doors Come Full Circle:Let It Rock Mag 1972...

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

The Doors Come Full Circle

ROCK JOURNALISTS ARE not born. Probably they’re not made either – it doesn’t work to tell someone that they’re a rock writer, although people do. The way to tell the real thing is whether a writer can communicate real enthusiasm for whoever he happens to be writing about. A pretty good percentage of those acts will have been favourites in prewriting days, and there remains with you a contagious excitement each time a new record is released, or a tour comes around. That’s especially so with American artists, and with my own favourites from pre-writing days the Doors.
I was seriously affected when I heard that Jim Morrison had died. I didn’t really believe it, and in a lot of ways I still don’t believe it. It’s tempting for me to think that the unpredictable James, totally pissed off with the pressures generated by the infamous Miami trial, and the fact that, in terms of musical theatre, he had widened the vistas of possibility perhaps further than anyone ever could, had decided to go to ground, feeling that music was a medium that he had exhausted. I still wouldn’t be too surprised to read some poetry very reminiscent of someone I know, apparently coming from an English speaking visionary living somewhere in Europe, whom no-one has ever seen. You can maybe understand a little of my devotion to the Doors, and my concern as I waited for the first post-Morrison LP.
That little trauma passed off without too much trouble, because Other Voices contained at least one pure dynamite track, 'Tightrope Ride', where the three Doors compensated for the lack of a lead singer by playing their instruments like inspired madmen. At the end of the track, Robbie Krieger plays a demented guitar solo so perfect in its formation and progression that the listener is initially speechless at the precision he has just heard. All that may sound a bit computerized and mechanical, but you’ve got to remember that the Doors, together with perhaps Steve Miller and the Beatles, have always come out with the most perfectly produced records imaginable, and even the break with Paul A. Rothchild, one of the ultimate producers, wasn’t going to stop that.
It was good news, too, that the Doors were coming to Europe to tour earlier this year, but, just the same, I was worried. Consider the previous (and only) two appearances in England, both when Morrison was part of the band. The Roundhouse in 1968 was the first time the Doors came to England, and it’s pretty astonishing now to think of an allnighter featuring the Doors and the Jefferson Airplane, alternating top billing over a two night gig. I was there (of course I was there), and the Doors were unbelievably good. I was there on the Saturday, the second night, and you may recall that Granada TV practically wiped out the Doors two ways.
First, they decided to do a "social significance" TV documentary. I suppose if you listened to 'When the Music’s Over' cold, you might think that the Doors were some early incarnation of the MC5, devoted to some glorious and impossible revolution – a rallying call to youth to overthrow that wonderful myth, the Establishment. You can almost hear those box people – "I’ve got this great film of the police beating women with night sticks, and they had some fantastic riot shots of student demonstrations on News At Ten the other night. If we get this group – look, read that line – Cancel my subscription to the resurrection. Sounds like a lot of bloody rubbish to me. Hey, perhaps we can get the singer to attack one of the cameramen..." Men..."
Second, they littered the Roundhouse with insensitive cameramen, most of whom seemed more appropriate to either riots in Belfast or world chess championships. Some of them moved about like diminutive dinosaurs, trampling the front rows to make room for themselves, others just stood right in front of you, prohibiting your view. The net result was that the Doors, conscious of the intrusion, were a bit wooden to start with. Then they relaxed and Morrison played with the fat cameramen at the front, pushing past him so that he couldn’t be filmed, and taking the piss. That set was good, but not great, and the worry was with me, but it soon lifted when the Doors came back for the second set at about four o’clock in the morning, by which time all the cameramen were home in bed.
Without the cameras, there was a noticeable drop in aggravation, and the group played a superb set, everything that I would want to remember about the Doors. On the strength of those memories, I told everyone I knew to watch when, several months later, they decided to put the film out. The sound was atrocious, if the word is sufficient to describe the fuzzy mess that emerged from three inch speakers all over Britain, and everyone told me they thought the Doors were shitty, which was difficult to disagree with on that showing. I reckon that one film practically destroyed any following for the Doors in this country at that time.
The next stage in the Doors saga was their appearance at the Isle of Wight thing in 1970, and in my exalted journalistic position, I scored a press ticket for that amazing Saturday. Everybody on was really good – John Sebastian, the Who, Emerson Lake and Palmer. But the Doors – a disappointment. They had beautiful American amps and speakers, and I don’t think they were using the field PA, if that’s what you call it. Anyway, I was perched in front of Ray Manzarek’s cabinets, to the extent that I heard him, very loud and fairly clear, but Robbie, John and Jim were practically inaudible. Less affluent friends further back told me that the Doors were superb, but the only immediate thought I had at the end of their set was that my headache was reaching new splendours of pain.
I forgot all my deep-seated complaints the next day when I inveigled myself into the artists’ bit, wandering between the tribal bonfires, looking for a Door, and finding Jim Morrison. Somebody once said that interviewing Bob Dylan was like sucking off an elephant, and I know exactly what he meant. To read my interview now is fairly embarrassing – but that’s a different story for another day.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

So it’s 1972, and the Doors were coming over again. The thought of that diabolical interview with Morrison spurred me to steam about, talking to them several times, and for the only time in my life, behaving like a male groupie, trying to talk to them about all sorts of things. I taught them the rules of snooker on a quarter size table in the Senior Common Room at Reading University, and watched them from the balcony as they played a brilliant set. The thing that is so striking is that you feel very ashamed of never having noticed the fluidity and taste of Robbie Krieger and the ultimate precision of John Densmore rising off his stool at the climax of each number. Ray perhaps hadn’t changed much, because he always seemed pretty dominant in the days of the four man Doors. They also had two exceedingly good back up friends with them on the tour, Bobby Ray and Jack Conrad.
Bobby was a very open, pleasant person, sharing with John Densmore the distinction of being the most talkative of the tour party. Maybe John hasn’t been talked to enough because he’s got a lot to say about the Doors from a slightly different inside point to the usual Ray/Robbie syndrome. Bobby, in fact, has yet to appear on a Doors record, but he generates a lot of on stage excitement playing percussion duets with John on a small conga-type kit, or playing rhythm guitar. He’s got a lot of experience, as he used to be on the road with the Mamas and Papas. Jack Conrad, on the other hand, just came to England because it seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn’t for the money – he’s written hit songs with Helen Reddy, and plays on her records too.
And so to my reactions to the new record Full Circle. The cover concept is a 2001 theme with naked males walking around the sleeve – you know, the baby to old man and back to baby trip. I really don’t see the relevance of it all, and I think I’d have preferred a good old William S. Harvey sleeve – remember Strange Days?
Still, the music is the thing, and there’s over forty minutes here, some good, some great and some strangely indifferent. There’s the traditional Doors rocker to start with, 'Get Up And Dance', similar to 'I’m Horny, I’m Stoned' on Other Voices with a soul chorus led by Clydie King. Fair enough, and '4 Billion Souls' is great, vintage stuff, with Robbie singing a bit like Jim Morrison, reminiscent of the track Strange Days, and therefore nice. Next is an enigma to me, 'Verdilac', the first of two tracks dominated by Charles Lloyd, the jazz flute player. Personally, I don’t like this intrusion into the Doors, and the second of the Lloyd tracks, 'The Piano Bird' is mostly tedious. But 'Verdilac' is good in parts, with Krieger playing Hendrix-like lead and Manzarek Booker T-Like organ. Densmore’s drumming is brilliantly clichéd, and perfectly in contect. There’s some vocal in a key Ray finds it difficult to descend to, and sometimes it’s deeply echo chambered, but it’s always unclear. There’s a final Doors climax to bring a smile, but only after Lloyd has seemingly blunted the usually sharp edge of the band.
'Good Rockin’' (as in 'Tonight'), is a fair studio boogie, just for fun, demonstrating a taste of what the Doors had always promised us, a rock’n’ roll album. Unfortunately, this is the only track of its type on Full Circle, but even so, Robbie does a good Scotty Moore imitation, and follows it up with a fine late fifties solo of a different influence. Ray does a "let’s get real low" passage, and even a "let’s go one time for Jerry Lee". It’s a pleasant reminder of the last tour, where this number was one of the favourites.
The problem is in searching for a majority of dynamite tracks, and I don’t think there are enough. There are two which seem like throwaways: 'Hardwood Floor', which curiously reminded me of the Equals, and 'It Slipped My Mind', an unfortunately apt title. Perhaps the most interesting, although not necessarily most commercial, tracks are the first and last on side two, 'Mosquito' and 'The Peking King and the New York Queen'. They both last over five minutes, allowing in the former case for long instrumental explorations, most of which are very good, but not totally typical of the Doors, except that Robbie Krieger sounds here like no-one but Robbie Krieger. 'The Peking King' is a song (as far as I can gather) about cultural differences between East and West, and reminds me a little of 'The Soft Parade'. Vocally it’s not so good, but instrumentally it’s probably much better.
I suppose finally that the last sentence said it all. Post-Morrison Doors songs seem less good lyrically (and we haven’t yet had a lyric sheet – why not?), but better instrumentally. Inevitably, if you lose a strong part of your sound, you must emphasise the remaining good points to draw attention away from the gaps created. Unfortunately, the Other Voices are not yet strong enough, and until they are, this somewhat different Doors will be around. It might be wrong to say that I think Robbie should sing more than Ray, but that’s the way I feel, and after all, it was Robbie who wrote 'Light My Fire' and now sings it on stage.
With regard to Full Circle, I’m undecided as yet as to whether I should write if off as a mistake. I did that with The Soft Parade, with the result that it’s now about my second favourite Doors album of all. In order to form an opinion properly, I’d have to see the band play the album live. How about it, and soon, because I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s anxiously awaiting the next visit to Europe of the Doors, in their day still an unbeatable band to watch and listen to.
John Tobler, Let It Rock, October 1972