1969 was not a good year for The Doors. They were all set to tour the States as a
headliner, and then they played a show in Miami. This was THE Miami show where Jim Morrison allegedly
“whipped it out.” As a result, tour
dates got canceled. To compound things, they
recorded and released The Soft Parade. The
Soft Parade has a multitude of sins – brass, strings, and for the most
part, bad songs for which the added brass and strings cannot compensate. It might have seemed like a good idea at the
time, but producer Paul Rothchild didn’t do the band any favors by adding these
extra instruments to Doors songs. Brass,
strings, and Doors songs just don’t mix.
It worked on one song – Touch Me. Otherwise it sounds like cocktail music. To compound these matters, Runnin’ Blue is a hoedown, complete with
fiddles and mandolins. A hoedown on a
Doors record - are you kidding me? Paul
Rothchild had them do so many takes on The
Soft Parade to achieve perfection that any life that might have been in the
songs was sucked right out of them. There
are two good songs on The Soft Parade
– Touch Me and Wild Child. The latter is
just the Doors playing, and this was the first hint at Robbie Krieger playing a
raunchy guitar tone. The only problem
with Wild Child is that it’s too
short [2:38]. The Soft Parade committed an unforgivable sin – it bores me. If the Doors wanted to terminate their career
even earlier than they did, they could have kept making records just like The Soft Parade.
Morrison Hotel
was the album the band needed to make after The
Soft Parade. Gone was the Lizard
King from 1967-68. Gone was the
psychedelic trippy stuff from the first two albums. Gone were the brass and the strings, and most
importantly, gone were the bad songs. Morrison Hotel is a back-to-basics album
with a bluish tinge. With this album
the Doors transformed themselves into a bar band. The first side is labeled Hard Rock Café. Side Two is Morrison Hotel. Side One has
the hard, blues-rock songs, and Side Two has the quieter ballads. Engineer Bruce Botnick wrote that the
songwriting well had run dry for the band, so they had to create material from
scratch in the studio. The purveyors of
the Hard Rock Café restaurant chain got their name from this album. The original Hard Rock Café was a bar located
in the skid row section of downtown LA.
The band popped into the place for a beer after they did the photo shoot
for the cover at the original Morrison Hotel.
Roadhouse Blues – The direction of
the Doors music hinted at on Wild Child
shows up here. Robbie Krieger owns Roadhouse Blues. This is the first indication that the Doors
morphed into a pretty good bar band.
When I was college puke I thought the Doors was just a drug band until a
friend said “no, they’re a beer band!”
With words like “I woke up this
morning and got myself a beer…” who could argue the point? That being said, the poet in Jim Morrison was
still there – “the future’s uncertain and
the end is always near…” Given his
lifestyle as a raging alcoholic, perhaps he knew his time on Earth wasn’t going
to be long. That’s John Sebastian on the
harmonica under the pseudonym G. Puglese.
Lonnie Mack plays the bass here.
On the deluxe version of Morrison
Hotel, you’re treated to 30 minutes of takes before the band nailed it. For the first few takes, Ray Manzerek plays
an electric piano. It was only later
that he switched to acoustic piano. You
can hear Paul Rothchild chew Robbie Krieger’s ass, so that may account why his
tone and attack sound especially angry on the released version.
Waiting for the Sun – What was wrong
with this song that it couldn’t go on the album of the same name two years
earlier? The answer – nothing. Waiting
for the Sun maintains the energy level from Roadhouse Blues, but when you listen to Morrison’s singing, you can
tell it was an earlier recording. His
voice is not ragged here as it was after The
Soft Parade. This song has one of
Jim Morrison’s best lines anywhere – “This is the
strangest life I’ve ever known…” For
Jim Morrison this could have applied to when he first experienced stardom in
1967, or the aftermath of the Miami incident in 1969. The inclusion of this older song on Morrison Hotel is proof enough the band
was out of new material
You Make Me Real – This one is
another stomper like Roadhouse Blues. Unlike Waiting
for the Sun, it was a new song. Instead
of playing the organ, Ray Manzerek plays a cool tack piano. It gives the song a bar room feel. Robbie Krieger makes his presence known – he
isn’t overshadowed by Manzarek’s keyboards.
Peace Frog/Blue Sunday – Peace Frog is Robbie Krieger at his
funkiest, even more funky that on Soul
Kitchen. He gives the wah-wah pedal
quite a workout. The imagery from this
song is fairly vivid – “Indians scattered
on dawn’s highway bleeding, ghosts crowd the young child’s fragile egg-shell
mind…” was something Jim Morrison remembered from a car trip through a
desert when he was a kid. And there’s
blood everywhere – the town of New Haven [where Morrison was arrested on-stage
in 1967], Venice, the streets of Chicago, etc.
Blue Sunday is a very calm ode
to Morrison’s girlfriend/common-law wife, Pamela Courson. It’s a nice counterpoint to the craziness of Peace Frog. One segues into the other. If you hear them separately, it feels a bit
strange.
Ship of Fools – Nothing to see here
- move along…so I usually do.
Land Ho! – As much as I detest the
hoedown [Runnin’ Blue] from The Soft Parade, this sea shanty rocks
hard enough to be interesting. I figured
“what the hell - Morrison was a Navy brat, let him have fun with it.” Robbie Krieger still plays with the nasty
tones from Side One, but Ray Manzerek switches from acoustic piano to a cheesy organ [a Vox Continental, I think].
The Spy – Long before Sting wrote about
stalking in Every Breath You Take,
the Doors had this quiet piano tune. Manzerek’s
piano is the instrumental focus. Morrison
is sufficiently sinister about knowing “your
deepest, secret fear…” The song has only one verse [sung twice], but that
doesn’t prevent it from being a good song.
Queen of the Highway – This is a
song for Pamela Courson. She was his
Queen of the Highway, and he was the “monster,
black dressed in leather…” At least
he was self-aware of his own boorish behavior.
The deluxe version of Morrison Hotel features a jazz version of this
song. They were correct in discarding
that version for what was eventually released.
Indian Summer – Need any more proof the songwriting well was dry? This is an outtake
from their first album from 1967. It too
is about Pamela Courson. It’s not a bad
song, but it isn’t the Doors’ best one either.
Indian Summer is just…there.
Maggie M’Gill – The opener Roadhouse Blues, Lonnie Mack plays the
bass on this one. For Morrison Hotel, this is as bluesy as the
Doors would get. The previous three
songs were a bit of a slumber, but here the band snaps awake with this
jewel. For the most part Maggie M’Gill is a single-chord A Minor
song [I like minor-chord blues]; Robby Krieger plays a particularly nasty
slide. Ray Manzerek's organ [a Hammond B-3 this time, I think] provides great atmosphere. The line “Now if you’re sad and you’re feeling blue, go out and buy a brand new
pair of shoes…” cracks me up every time I hear it. This song is a preview of things to come on LA Woman. It sounds great when played back-to-back with
The Changeling [the opening track
from LA Woman].
Morrison Hotel
was the first Doors purchase I ever made.
First impressions being what they are, I was most impressed with Morrison Hotel. I picked a good one to buy first
[I got LA Woman at the same time]. Unlike
The Soft Parade, Morrison Hotel does not bore me – far from it. This album marked a creative re-birth of the
band as well as a return to greatness.
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