Jim Morrison Interview L.A. Free Press 1968

[darkstar]

LOS ANGELES FREE PRESS

JOHN CARPENTER
INTERVIEWS JIM MORRISON

SUMMER 1968

Reference: "The Lizard King - The Essential Jim Morrison" by
Jerry Hopkins 1992 - Pages 202-209

John Carpenter was the music editor of the Los Angeles Free Press, a
weekly `underground' newspaper distributed throughout
Southern
California. Like Jim, he was a big drinker, and the interview
stretched over all of one day, starting with a breakfast laced with
Bloody Marys and ending in the Phone Booth, Jim's favourite
topless
bar.

As detailed earlier, in the biographical section of this book, John
took the transcript of the tape to Jim for approval. Jim added some
clarification and Pamela took a blue pencil, slashing uncounted
hundreds of paragraphs where she felt Jim was making an ass of
himself. The interview survived her editing, revealing Jim's
robust
delight for life.

John Carpenter: How did the cover on Strange Days come about?
Jim Morrison: I hated that cover on the first album. So I said,
`I
don't want to be on this cover. Where is that? Put a chick on it
or
something. Let's have a dandelion or a design.' The title,
Strange
Days came and everybody said yeah, cause that was where we were, what
was happening. It was so right.

Originally I wanted us in a room surrounded by about 30 dogs, but
that was impossible `cause we couldn't get the dogs and
everybody was
saying, `What do you want dogs for?' And I said that it was
symbolic
that it spelled God backwards. (laughs) Finally we ended up leaving
it up to the art director and photographer. We wanted some real
freaks though, and he came out with a typical side show thing. It
looked European. It was better than having our fucking faces on it
though.

JC: What place do albums have as art forms to you?

JM: I believe they've replaced books. Really. Books and movies.
They're better than movies cause a movie you see maybe once or
twice,
then later on television maybe. But a fucking album man, it's
more
influential than any art form going. Everybody digs them.
They've
got about 40 of them in their houses and some of them you listen to
50 times, like the Stones' albums or Dylan's.

JC: You don't listen to the Beatles much anymore, but there are
certain albums that just go on and on. You measure your progress
mentally by your records, like you were really young what you had
then, Harry Belafonte, you know, Calypso, Fats Domino and Elvis
Presley.

JC: You guys are only working weekends now, aren't you?

JM: No, not really. I think we work a lot. More than most people
think. Like after the Hollywood Bowl we go to Texas, then to
Vancouver, Seattle, then jump to the east coast, Montreal and blah,
blah, blah. Take three weeks off in August to film, then we go to
Europe. Man, we work an awful lot!

JC: Do you still read a lot?
JM: No, not as much as I used to. I'm not as prolific a writer
either. Like when, a while ago. I was living in this abandon office
building, sleeping on the roof, you know the tale. (laughs) And all
of a sudden, I threw away all of my notebooks that I'd been
keeping
since high school and these songs kept coming to me. Something about
the moon, I din't remember. Well, I'd have to make up the
words as
fast as I could in order to hold onto the melody – you know a lot
of
people don't know it, but I write a lot of the melodies too –<br>later,
all that would be left would be the words, cause I couldn't hold
on
to them. The words were left in sort of a vague idea. In those days
when I heard a song, I heard it as an entire performance. Taking
place, you know, with the audience, the band and the singer.
Everything. It was kind of a like a prediction of the future. It was
all there.

[darkstar]

JC: How did the ending to `The End' come about? Is the Whisky
a Go-Go
story true?

JM: I used to have this magic formula, like, to break into the
subconscious. I would lay there and say over and over `Fuck the
mother, kill the father. Fuck the mother, kill the father.' You
can
really get into your head just repeating that slogan over and over.
Just saying it can be the thing….

That mantra can never become meaningless. It's too basic and can
never become just words `cause as long as you're saying it,
you can
never be unconscious. That all came from up here.

JC: That really shook the Whisky audience up when you did it. Have
you ever really gotten through to an audience like the first time you
went over and got mobbed and all?

JM: Not like the thing that's in my mind. I think the day that
thing
happens it will be all over. The End. Where would you go from there?
If everyone, even for a spilt second, became one they could never
come back. No, I don't think it can ever happen, not like it is
my
head.

My audiences….they usually get pretty turned on. It's like
saying at
first you're the audience and we're up here, you're down
there. Then
all of a sudden there you are and you're right there just like
us…<br>it's out of sight. When they know `You're just like
us,' breaks down
all the barriers and I like that a lot.

JC: I've heard a lot of talk from friends in England, and some of
the
groups from there, that a lot of hostility will be aimed your way
when you go over there. You know, as American's super-sex group
and
all.

JM: Yeah?…..hmmm, there's gonna be a bit of hostility, huh?
That's a
good prediction, yeah, a prediction of the future. There is going to
be a little bit of disappointment. The more hostility the better.
(laughs) Opposition is true friendship, ha!

(knock on the door. it's the maid)


JM: Come on in, we're splitting anway.

Maid: I'm ready if you are. (waits) I'm ready if you
are…I know you
like a clean bed. (leaves room to get cleaning materials)

JM: I knew this was going to be good, but not that good. Let's
split
right after we hear what else she has to say. (laughs)

Maid: I'm ready for you, if you're ready for me.

JM: Come here for a little piece and quiet and everyone keeps pushing
me.

Maid: Is that right? (laughs) Yeah, just keeps on doin' it. Well,
I'm
ready for you, if your ready for me. (hums)

JM: Please no singing, this is a holiday. I'm on holiday.

(in the elevator)

JM: A year ago? At the Tropicana. Yeah, I started that whole scene.
Put it on the map. We used to have lots of fun there. Yeah, it's
boisterous. Them (the band) was there, nice guys.

(In the street on the way to the Doors' office. Sunset to Santa
Monica on foot.)

JM: Man, I really feel good.

JC: You had your album all ready to go and you went back into the
studi to add some things, then I hear you left it alone.

JM: Yeah, we didn't do it. I was going to add some poetry where
the
little space is between the cuts. But who wants to listen to some cat
talking. The music is what's happening. That's what they want
to
hear. Anybody can talk, but how many cats play music and sing?

JC: It seems strange to walk in LA.

JM: Yeah doesn't it man! (bike rider yells, honks, U-turns) Who
was
that? It's Babe ( the Doors road manager).

Babe: Where you headed, the office? (Babe goes on ahead on his bike)

JM: He's a happy cat, you know? He's either a genius or
really dumb,
I haven't found out which. He sure knows how to have a good time.
A
happy cat.

Oh, there was this chick once, you know, at a concert. She came back
stage and said that there was this person that wanted to meet me. She
said it was her friend and she was deaf and dumb so I went through
this number, you know, drawing pictures, sign language, and it turns
out she was putting me on. (laughs)

JC: I really dig LA in the summer. Winters are a drag, but
Summer's
pretty nice.

JM: I really dig LA. Really a lot.

(Topless bar, Babe joins us, drinks are there.)

(To Babe) Dig you, big drinker.

Babe: (Indicating a dancer) Can you imagine the babies that chick
could have?

JM: That's bad for their tits when they dance topless. Ask any
topless dancer. It they lose then it would be like losing your
head….She doesn't work too hard. Just sort of stands
there….Bless
this house and all that are in it.

(later)

JM: (Pointing to a new dancer) She's too satirical. She
doesn't take
anything seriously. I get the feeling that if you spend a lot of time
in a place like this you'd corrupt your soul. Corrode it
completely.
But let's hold off that. Can you imagine bringing your secretary
in
here? Ha!

(If I were a Carpenter' by the Four Tops on juke)

If I were a Carpenter and you were a lady, would you marry me anyway?

Babe: No. No. If you were a good natured prostitute I might, maybe.
Everybody knows that prostitutes make the best wives, Henry Miller
taught us that, right, John?

JC: Henry who? (to Morrison) What do you think about what's been
printed about you and the stuff you hear back all the time? Did you
read the Post magazine thing?

JM: Yeah, I read it. You know, I knew she was going to do it that
way. Journalist are people, you know, and the chicks….she did a
number, man. Yeah, if you don't really come on to them, they feel
neglected, you know? She ended up doing a number. It was written good
though. You really felt like you were there. It lies a lot of times.
I hear things back all the time that I'm supposed to have done.

Hey, Babe, you're gonna be a famous person one of these days and
you
should learn to hold your tongue. Especially in front of the press.
How'd you like to wake up one day and you've said something
off the
top of your head and have to read about it the next day, like that is
suppose to be where you're at.

The mentality of the writer is like the `psychology of the
voyuer.
Journalists never seem to speak about themselves like other people
do. They absorb like a sponge and never really discuss their own
psyche. I think that…like….I think art, which is beauty, is
the
revelation of beauty, beauty is an absolute, you dig? And I think
it's rooted in a disinterested perception of the real world.
Striking
an evenness, a balance between object and receiver, like revealing
the world with no connotation at all. None, no bullshit.

You know when you've done it, and if you haven't, you are
still on
the way. But me, if I get something really good, I'm gonna lay it
out, do you dig? But a lot of it gets into that. `He was standing
there on the street step with his eyeball exposed.' My
perspective
when people ask me questions is like I tell them where it's at
over
and over and over again. Me, me, me…But then that's only part
of it,
part of the thing, not the whole answer.

There's a little more to it than that. Yeah, like I think there
is a
sub-world in which everybody is sleeping. This whole other world that
everybody's trying to forget, but which we remember immediately
everybody knows it. But people love the game. The Game. They really
dig it and nobody is supposed to admit that it's a game. They
won't.
If they did, then it would ruin the game.

In the middle of the baseball game, like if someone ran out and
said, `it's a game, man, just a fucking game, this is fucked.
Are you
kidding me? It's just a fucking game.' Well, everybody would
say, `Wow, man, get that fucking clown out of here.'
They'd go home,
eat a big meal, ball their old lady, and then be right there. He who
laughs last, laughs his ass off.

Babe: Can you dig that? Do you know what he's saying? I think
you're
serious. I haven't been able to dig it completely yet, but
it's
there. I know it's there.

(later)

JM: It's weird. People in here, after the initial glimpse, just
start
going on their trips, talking, eating, drinking. Do you know what it
is? I bet that was the appeal of the brothel. Like the atmosphere, a
place for conversation.

Man, this is the place I'd really like to work, only instead of
business men, it would be business women, you know, just stopping by
for a little drink before….I must say, she is my favorite.
She's
outta sight…I think it's a mistake to have their breasts
exposed. An
error in theatrics. They should be wearing some thin negligee.
Mystery…..

Babe: That's what turns me off to some of these hippie chicks. I
guess I'm old fashioned enough to still want some femininity and
expect a little mystery. But those chicks in Levis and scraggy hair
really turn me off.

JM: I like chicks in Levis. My taste is like whoever approaches me, I
think it's groovy.

JC: Sounds pretty exhausting.

Babe: You know what's a groovy word? Bell-wether: leader of a
mindless crowd. That's what you are Jim. The leader of a mindless
crowd.

JM: Babe, that's what I mean, You got to learn to curb your
tongue. I
can see what it will be like. John would say, ` and then Babe
said
you know what you are Jim? The leader of a mindless crowd' If you
print that, John, I won't kill you, I'll haunt you. They have
minds.

Maybe collectively…a crowd together really has no mind.
Individually
everybody does. They all have bitchin' minds. Like I bet there is
more philosophy in some sixteen year old chick's mind that you
ever
dreamed of in your whole cigarette. Some of those letters from fan
magazines are really lonely and deep and open. Some of them are
bullshit. I don't read many, but some that I've read really
knocked
me out. Really open, sincere. Anyway, you got to learn to hold your
tongue. Can you remember that?

Babe: I'll remember that. I'll keep silent like deep water.
Whenever
I say anything from now on, it will be such a profundity that you
guys will just fall out of your chairs.

Waitress: That will be $39.75

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

Jan 3, 2005 0:22:21 GMT @darkstar said:

John Carpenter: How did the cover on Strange Days come about?

Jim Morrison: I hated that cover on the first album. So I said,`I don't want to be on this cover. Where is that? Put a chick on it or something. Let's have a dandelion or a design.' The title,
Strange Days came and everybody said yeah, cause that was where we were, what was happening. It was so right.

Originally I wanted us in a room surrounded by about 30 dogs, but that was impossible `cause we couldn't get the dogs and
everybody was saying, `What do you want dogs for?' And I said that it was symbolic that it spelled God backwards. (laughs) Finally we ended up leaving it up to the art director and photographer. We wanted some real freaks though, and he came out with a typical side show thing. It looked European. It was better than having our fucking faces on it though.

This is the famous interview which nails the lie, told in the documentary When You're Strange, that Jim Morrison craved attention.
Ask yourself why someone who was as shallow as the individual presented in WYS would pass up a chance to have their photo on the front of an album cover that was to follow the success of the debut Doors album and the single LMF?
A perfect opportunity to capitalise on the attention gained from that early success but the guy passes spectacularly on this chance to promote himself.

Of course Morrison did things that sold a certain image.

He invented his Lizard King persona and posed for the famous Young Lion photo shoot. He writhed, threw himself about and strutted on stage as The Lizard King. he gave The Doors their human face and was worshiped by intellectual and teenybopper.

He was a young man riding the wave of stardom and was carried along by that in the same way anybody else would have been.
He realised his mistake and by 1968 was attempting to rectify that error of judgment.

But this incident clearly showed that he was not at all the Tom DiCillo fame obsessed, shallow, vain, preening rock star of WYS.
This misrepresentation particularly cruel to Morrison who strived hard to keep the ART of The Doors alive when faced with a record company, producer and fellow band members who favoured a different more lucrative approach.

He was doomed to failure as his naivety in this regard shone through during the COTL/WFTS sessions. Art ditched for the search for the elusive hit single. The band succeeded with HILY but lost more than they ever gained as The Doors would never be the same band after March 1968.

When You’re Strange: A Film About The Doors? The Trial and Tribulations of Tom DiCillo


The Doors unhinged.....The Soft Parade cause and effect
…..the consequences of Buick for Miami and beyond......

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

Jan 3, 2005 0:23:51 GMT @darkstar said:

JC: I've heard a lot of talk from friends in England, and some of
the groups from there, that a lot of hostility will be aimed your way when you go over there. You know, as American's super-sex group and all.

JM: Yeah?…..hmmm, there's gonna be a bit of hostility, huh?
That's a good prediction, yeah, a prediction of the future. There is going to be a little bit of disappointment. The more hostility the better. (laughs) Opposition is true friendship, ha!

That's an interesting bit of banter as from my perspective of living as a Doors fan throughout the 70s that is exactly the sort of thing I came across.
Other US bands were accepted and promoted by my friends and acquaintances. The Dead, Grand Funk, Blue Cheer and Mountain were all popular but The Doors never were.
To this day I never have been able to understand that hostility.
European bands like Golden Earring, Can and Faust were more popular in the circle I moved in that a band with such clear distinctiveness and obvious talent as The Doors.
Alice Cooper (the band) became huge here in the 70s. The Velvets were popular but The Doors always seemed to bring out hostility. Luckily I was never one to follow my friends trends and made my own mind up about lots of music. I was always prepared to accept a recommendation but never followed a band just to garner popularity.
So I was always the outsider to some extent as I was a fan of US bands like The Doors, Sparks (the early US version), BOC and in the mid 70s Pavlov's Dog.

Some of the media were fans. Max Bell from NME was a fan of The Doors and would produce a great NME feature in the summer of 1981.
But the readership all seemed to be agin the band. Which was odd because by the mid 70s I was noticing that Doors albums were always in the record store racks. So somebody was buying them.
It was a weird time the 1970s for Doors fans in England.