Writing anything about the Doors puts me in a difficult position. In the same way that writing about U2 always seems to become a referendum on Bono, writing about the Doors tends to begin and end with Jim Morrison. And not even Jim Morrison, singer, but JIM MORRISON, modern day shaman, Lizard King, all that bullshit. So let us put aside this idea of Morrison because it did not exist in the public consciousness when this record was released, only in his extremely solipsistic mind. The truth is that the driving engine of this band, at least early on, was the trio of extremely accomplished musicians behind them. I won't mention their names much because what else is there to say, but John Densmore, Robby Krieger, and Ray Manzarek are absolutely incredible musicians and songwriters, and Morrison landing with this trio was the best piece of good luck he ever could have wished for.
Classic rock also presents a challenge. How can I sit here and properly weigh the context of a record that came out in 1967? Sure, I've studied history, so I know what the world was like in a simple, facile way. I read Morrison's biography (No One Here Gets Out Alive, I should not have read it in eighth grade). I've seen Oliver Stone's The Doors (lots of boobs!). But I've heard some of these songs a million times, and there is nothing I can now say about "Light My Fire" that isn't said a thousand times better. Songs like that and "Break On Through" do not even register as music as much as they do museum pieces now. It's like reviewing The Great Gatsby in 2025. I can tell you whether I enjoy it but it is mostly just a piece of American history.
Having said that, and my annoyance at the idea of Morrison as some kind of mad genius poet, I will always defend this album. "Soul Kitchen" is maybe my favorite song that the band has ever recorded and they are still riding that wave of popularity gained from their live shows in L.A. That's evident in the energy throughout. Morrison's sexuality is what makes songs like "Back Door Man" work. Or "Whiskey Bar." Even almost 60 years later, these songs sound dangerous. After Morrison became MORRISON, it became easy to write off this sleaziness as part of a persona or just an unfortunate byproduct of his drinking and drug abuse but on this first Doors record it is a necessary, integral part of the music. When they get away from that, when the band loses focus on this kind of bar-rock sleaze, like on "The End," the energy lags. (With the notable exception of "Crystal Ship," which is an incredible piece of crooning.)
"The End" is, according to mythology a song that gained them a following but also made record companies afraid of the Doors (mostly just Morrison, and I think most other members felt similarly). Live, in clubs like the Whisky a Go Go, I'm sure that this journey was entrancing. On record, though, it just doesn't go anywhere. Coming at the end of a subpar side 2, it just kind of wraps up the album by showcasing the band at their worst: becoming conduits for Morrison's rambling because he's the star.
The Doors, as a band: 0 Nates
Jim Morrison, as an idea: -1 Nate
Side A of this album: 2 Nates Up
Side B: 0 Nates
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