Discussion in 'Music Corner' started by Scott S., Dec 3, 2012.
This! Ok gorts, wake up and shut down the thread
"They were amateur to semi-pro musicians." You are saying the Doors were semi- pro musicians that is a ridiculous statement and very insulting to the Doors who put out six of the finest albums of the late 60s and early 1970. And Jim Morrison was a great songwriter and one of the best frontman in Rock with talent and charisma. I will say you have no idea what the Doors accomplished in there time together and were one of the biggest bands in the world. Utter rubbish you better get rid of that crystal ball because it's not working not one word.
If it weren't for the band, Morrison never would have been anything beyond an overly privileged youth grown into an alcoholic vagabond.
You have completely misconstrued what I have said. I meant that they were "amateur to semi-pro musicians" WHEN THEY FORMED THE BAND. And YES, Jim was an amateur vocalist, if that. He was also a brilliant mind and writer. I don't deny or diminish anything they accomplished, so don't try and tell me that I have "no idea what they accomplished." I have made direct reference to what they accomplished. Sorry, they did NOT start out as world-beating professional musical geniuses and virtuosos, rather, they were inspired amateurs who quickly grew into one of the most impressive bands of all time. It happens. It's sweet when it does. If you think that I said what I said to be critical of The Doors, then you have no idea of the point that I was trying to make.
Please try not to fly off the handle every time someone says something that's not entirely worshipful of your favorite bands. It's really annoying and unhelpful.
Jerry Garcia would say no...
“I never liked the Doors. I found them terribly offensive… Morrison was just a pure Mick Jagger copy; that was his whole shot, that he was a Mick Jagger imitation…totally stolen from right around Mick Jagger’s 1965 tour of the States… [His] reputation as a poet I thought was really not deserved. Rimbaud was great at 18, 19, and Verlaine. Those guys were great. Fvckin’ Jim Morrison wasn’t great, I’m sorry. I could never see what it was about the Doors. They had a very brittle sound live, a three-piece band with no bass…that and the kinda raga-rock guitar style was strange. It sounded very brittle and sharp-edged to me, not something I enjoyed listening to… I was never attracted to their music at all, so I couldn’t find anything to like about them. When we played with them, I think I watched the first tune of two, then I went upstairs and fooled with my guitar. There was nothing there that I wanted to know about… I’ve always looked for something else in music, and whatever it was, they didn’t have it. They didn’t have anything of blues, for example, in their sound or feel… All I sensed was sham. As far as I was concerned, it was just surface and no substance.”
Personally love all The Doors especially on DCC! Just sharing an opinion
It always amuses me when I read this quote, because try as I might, I have never had any use for the Grateful Dead. They're the one really legendary and essential band of the 60's that I have absolutely no interest in. I don't say this to imply that the Dead actually suck, but it's an example of how people's heads can be in really different places. Whatever I look for in music, I've never found in the Dead, but I've always found it in the Doors.
And I find his assessment of Jim as a "Mick Jagger copy" to be startlingly superficial.
I know more than a few people that would say pretty much the same thing. My mother used to state rather tersely, "I'll be grateful when they're dead."
I don't think Van's style would have worked with The Doors. On the other hand, it would have been very interesting to see what would have happened if the remaining Doors had teamed up with Iggy. It supposedly was a possibility. Too bad it didn't happen.
Yeah he could have made it, good musicians are a dime a dozen.
First off you did not make that clear in your post. Second I did not fly off the handle. And when they formed they were good musicians. They were the house band at the Whisky in 1966. And had huge crowds every night going for blocks before they ever made a record. If anybody flew off the handle it was you. You should make your posts so they don't get misconstrued. I responded to what you wrote I'm not a mindreader.
I never thought of Jim as a Mick ripoff in any way. The first time I had heard that comparison was this Jerry quote. Do others feel that way? I do understand the brittle sound/no bass comments - and can imagine that was more apparent hearing them perform live. Maybe Jerry would have held them in slightly higher regard if he had heard one of their albums remastered by our host.
Jim was dark, searching and mystical. The music was haunting. It was a great match.
No, you flew off the handle when you assumed that because I referred to the Doors as "amateur to semi-pro musicians" that I was being negative toward their career as a whole. I take great care to express myself accurately. You don't need to be a mindreader, just a post-reader.
Generally, to a question like this, my answer would be a measured "maybe."
But I can't think of another band where it is more clear that the whole was much larger than the sum of the parts. The Doors minus Morrison were intermittently interesting, but hardly great. Morrison, left to his own devices, was a somewhat interesting poet. As a group, in their best moments, they caught lightning in a bottle,
This is what you posted. ' I think that in a sense they were very evenly matched. They were amateur to semi-pro musicians and he was a guy who liked to read and write voraciously, drink a lot and get kicked out of film school. I think that in an alternate reality he wouldn't have been famous at all. He wasn't looking to be a rock star, he just took it on as a project and it worked for all of them. If he'd have hooked up with any normal L.A. rock band, they would have fired him within a week. And if they hadn't have hooked up with Jim, they'd have been playing covers in nightclubs for maybe 6 years or so before moving on to other careers.' To me it is what it is that is the post you wrote and what I read. You take great care to express yourself accurately. That post does not give time frames and is vague and you say they never would have made it with anybody else. How do you know that it is pure speculation. And the band would be playing covers in nightclubs is pure speculation. And don't tell me I flew off the handle just because I called you out on this vague post. And to top it off you say they are one of my favorite bands how do you know that is pure speculation again. That is what is annoying and unhelpful.
I think this is right. I always thought that if anything Mr Morrison thought of himself as a more bohemian version of Bob Dylan.
Accurate expression is essential in the post-Doors era.
I assume that they must be one of your favorite bands because of your hair-trigger defense of them. I have said what I said, and it refers back to my first post in this thread in which I stated my opinion that Jim Morrison hooking up with the other three Doors was a remarkable synchronicity, producing a great band our of four individuals who probably would not have attained that level of success otherwise. That's my opinion and I stand by that. Doesn't mean that they were lousy musicians or that the Doors sucked or anything else negative, it just means that the whole is much greater than the sum of its parts. And if you won't say it, I will: The Doors are one of my enduring favorite groups, one that I have invested many long hours into exploring and enjoying, and one that has shown me all the great things that can be done by inspired individuals in the right place at the right time. Their music was pure magic, and not many bands can say that. If you think you can read some insidious anti-Doors message into that statement, be my guest, but don't bore me with it, because I know better.
I understood perfectly what dkmonroe was getting at. I'm not a mindreader either, yet his point seemed quite clear to me.
I listen to many genres of music. I like it all (save for New Country and Top 40)I have a few Doors cd's, and I have to say that I've never been impressed with The Doors as a musical group. As far as I'm concerned, it was all Jim. And past a high school-type level, he wasn't that great either.
Easy NO !!!
That is just awesome I'm glad you understand perfectly.
I love The Doors and The Dead so I am always amused by their dislike of day other. There's a good Manzarek quote about his disdain for The Dead. Isn't there a backstory to it? Something about one group refusing the other group's request to share equipment one show...?
I agree with this post 99% I'm not trying to read any insidious anti- Doors message into anything. Your first post was a bit confusing to me. Now I see the whole picture and agree with you. When I saw this ' They were amateur to semi-pro musicians ' it threw me off the track. I was wrong and I apologize.
From Ray's book...
The Dead’s support system was enormous. They had huge amps and many roadies, old ladies and groupies and yes-men, personal cooks and gophers and gurus and soundmen and manager types. Consequently, they had no need for normal human intercourse and/or discourse. They were completely insulated. It was a little world of its own and they were perfectly content to remain inside…with you locked out. I never did get to know any of them. I barely talked to any of them. I did try to communicate with their organ player, one “Pig Pen,” but that turned into a complete fiasco. Here’s what happened.
The Doors and the Dead are playing together at some outdoor festival–type gig. The Dead are the headliners (it’s early ’67). They have a ****ing wall of amplifiers. It’s like the wall in Fritz Lang’s Destiny. It dwarfs any human standing in front of it. And drum sets, two of them. And guitars everywhere. And…a Vox Continental Organ! Just like mine. Set up stage right. Just where I set up.
They have a sound check in the afternoon and it takes forever. They noodle, they fool around, they play out of tune, they try to tune up…but fail…and finally play a song. Vocals are out of harmony, guitars are tuned to some arcane, eccentric mode that each musician has kept as his own private secret, not telling the fellow next to him what the mode is, and the rhythm section is at cross purposes with each other, laying down what seems to be two separate and distinct rock beats that have no relation to each other. In other words, it’s a typical Grateful Dead song/jam.
They finish and, to them, everything seems fine. The musicians begin to leave the stage and the roadies lovingly gather up all the guitars. Everything else has to stay exactly where it is. The drums are not allowed to be moved. Pig Pen’s organ must not be moved. Fritz Lang’s wall of Destiny is impossible to move. For our sound check—and performance—John’s drums will have to be set up on the floor, in front of the existing pair of drum risers. No riser for John. The Dead have taken both of them. John’s pissed, as well he should be.
I take the opportunity to run up to Pig Pen. I don’t know whether to call him “Pig” or “Mr. Pen.” Mister sounds a bit formal between long-hairs and “Pig” sounds like an insult. I opted for the all-purpose, ubiquitous “man.” “Hey, man,” I say, bounding onto the stage before he retreats into the womblike miasma of Dead sycophants. “I’m the keyboard player with the Doors.” “So?…” He’s slow and unenthusiastic. I extend my hand but he doesn’t take it. Actually, he doesn’t even really see it. His pace is slow. I try to be jolly. “I play a Vox Continental just like yours.” “It can’t be moved,” he says. “I know that.” I smile, hoping to somehow communicate with this fellow musician. “What I want to ask is…instead of bringing my organ onstage and placing it in front of yours…I simply use yours.” “You wanna what?” He is slow. “I want to use your Vox. I play the exact same thing. I’ll just set my piano bass on top of your organ and it’ll all be simple and easy. Nothing has to be moved.” His head starts to shake back and forth. He isn’t liking the idea. But he is understanding the idea. I’m thankful for that. I press on.
"If I have to bring my organ up, I’ll have to set it up right in front of yours. I play on the same side of the stage, just like you.” “So…?” “Then there’ll be two Vox organs on stage. One in front of the other. It’ll look ridiculous. People will think, ‘Why are there two identical organs onstage? Why doesn’t the guy from the Doors play the one that’s already there? Why did he have to bring up a duplicate organ?’ You see, man, it’s absurd.” Wrong word. Pig Pen didn’t like that word. His face scrunched up. Absurd was not a word that was used in the Grateful Dead camp. Too revealing. Too pointed. Even too inner-directed. The Doors, at least Jim and Ray, used the word freely. After all, isn’t the post–World War II second half of the twentieth century totally absurd? Do we have to add to the absurdity? Isn’t the whole point of psychedelics to break down the walls of absurdity and reestablish a divine intuition amongst the human species on this good earth? Well, of course it is. And the Grateful Dead is supposed to be psychedelic, but here I am having an absurd conversation with a person called Pig Pen. Man!
“Nobody uses the Grateful Dead’s equipment,” he finally said. It was like the Dead party line and he had it well memorized. “I’m not asking to use the Dead’s equipment. I know these amps are all custom built for you guys. We’ll use our own amps. And we’ll use our own drums.” “Damn right you will,” Pig grunted. He was getting testy. “I know every drummer has his own setup. But the Vox organ…it’s generic.” “What…?” “They’re all the same! Yours is just like mine. They’re identical. It would be so clean and easy if I didn’t have to bring mine up.” I gave him my best back-slapping smile of camaraderie. “What do ya say, man? Come on, can I use your organ?” He paused for a couple of beats. Nice dramatic moment, I thought. Then the hammer…“No way, Jack. I told you, no one uses the Grateful Dead’s equipment.” And he turned and lumbered off, into the miasma. I gave his retreating back a peace sign and muttered to myself…“Share and share alike, ehh, brother?” Then more loudly to his rear end girth…“Peace and love, man.” He didn’t even hear me. He was lost in his own little world. His very secure little world. It was an absurd encounter.
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