review of the doors - dallas '68

Ray Manzarak played keys just like these.

Fender Rhodes Piano Bass	Kalamazoo combo organ

That fucker scared the hell out of everybody, at gigs, they used to turn out all the lights, you'd hear a few whistles, a bunch of lighters would light, suddenly the blackness was sawed in half by Morrison's voice, with the microphone jacked up louder than normal song volume, playing the role he was obviously born to play since he played it so convincingly, Mr.Fucked Up Dude... he would just "wing it", but everything he said had this Lizard King aura, "ride the snake... to the lake..." the median tone of his voice was introverted, like the volume of a lunatic talking to himself, there was a creepy laidback "about to pass out" quality, he seemed to be talking about everything at once, kind of blending the fears of the Old and the disatisfactions of the Young, each side had its ignition flash points, and Jim would kind of surf along the edges, playing both ends against the middle, "you got the guns, but we got the numbers" whining about how "they" had raped the Earth, always blending spooky images of lust, pain, psychosis, gentle hippie-ness, and all of a sudden, he'd explode into this SCREAM that was half victim-half axe murderer, scaring the piss out of everybody, there would be a gap of silence, the audience was stunned, but whoops of approval would pop up.

Jim would come out of character and speak directly to whoever caught his attenrion, "yeah.... what do you guys wanna hear tonight?" song titles would fill the air,

Morrison had this sense of dramatic space, he'd glide back into character and you wouldn't even be able to detect the transition, he'd go back to the Lizard King rambling with innuendos and verbal no-no's he ALMOST said, the stage always had a couple of vice cops sitting right on the edge, just waiting for this troublemaker to say the wrong thing, and this routine presence of plain clothes and uniformed law enforcement poised for action gradually became this obsession that he was going to show everybody his dick, like a drunken pervert that somehow wandered into the position of rock star adulation, (that was funnier than shit, btw) but there was this atmosphere of "this is going too far" and "we're gonna get this motherfucker", back in those days, there really was a fear of social revolution in the air, All the guys who had been in WWII and the Korean and Vietnam wars were outraged that this SLEAZEBAG would be allowed to desecrate what others had given their blood for, even though all Jim did was ramble between certain keywords in a paradoxical manner.

It was just poetic technique, merging contrasts and splitting similarities into differences, then putting them back together.... wrong... his voice just oozed with chemical inebriation, most of the time it would be small and fragile... but watch out, this motherfucker is crazy... and its not just an act, either...

It had a lot of teenage Halloween party in it, where you turn off all the lights and some goofball gets a flash light and shines it on his face in a weird way and says creepy shit about blood and skulls and eyeballs, but Morrison's thing was like all that kid stuff deeply drenched and actually drowned in an unpredictable sexual desire broiling under the surface thing, this scared the living piss out of all the Old people's sense of social correctness, and the Young would spontaneously cheer these strange rambling bursts of rebellion, it was the only chance us teenagers ever got to really let off some steam about something we weren't normally permitted to even mention, it wasn't anything specific, but we all felt it, and we all knew we AGREED with Morrison 100%, the whole place would be yelling and cheering their approval.

Suddenly a single beam of light would come on and Mr. Psycho would fall on the floor into a fetal position, there was this thing of,, "what just happened?" and "is he dead?" and then you'd hear his quiet lunatic voice rise up thru stream of consciousness fogbanks sprinkled with Lizard King metaphors.

Finally it was obvious the moment had passed and like any great live band, they'd come right in with some well known song and the lights would come back up, and the audience would just go APE FUCKING SHIT, cheering, etc, Morrison would kind of crack a smile as if he was smirking in the cops' faces saying, "hear that? they love me, and you can't do a fucking thing about it, better luck next time, pigs..." that's what they called the police back then, "the pigs"

Eventually Morrison did get busted for "showing his dick", what's so insane about it is he never actually showed his dick onsstage, why would he do that? it seemed to be the cops idea, not his, he'd say, "you wanna see it?" and the audience would scream alittle bit, mostly out of shock, but the cops didn't appreciate humorous side of it, which is understandable because there wasn't NOBODY in that building who thought Morrison was kidding... chuckling in a good humored way? yes... but just joking around on the mic? hell no... he was dead serious, in every sense of the term, and there was zero doubt about it, that was the whole point.

In other words, IT WAS GREAT, and they killed him for it, which was SOP back then, favorite method being what I call "the Bob Cox method" put poison in a hypodermic needle and position it in close proximity of whoever the degenerate target was, it would invariably wind up in someone's arm, and if it did, they DESERVED IT, since they were IV drug users, right? "Always get 'em when they're out of the country", classic CIA technique, what can the law do about it? its outside their jurisdiction... end of story... who's next?

This is how they got rid of Jimi Hendrix, too. Think I'm full of shit? All I can tell you is "Don't kid yourself about the possibility..." That dope headed jigaboo played the Star Spangled Banner like a war machine acid trip! How dare he descrate the flag like that? This was the KKK style interpretation of what was going on back then. Killing niggers (and anyone else who disagreed) was Standard Operating Proceedure. That went for pre-school kiddies playing at church, all the way up to the President of the U.S. Bumping off a couple of dope addict rockstars is nothing.

Notice, both Hendrix and Morrison were poets, they expressed their hearts, people felt what they said, and AGREED with it, ...and right there lies the real danger: POETS, that's what they hate the most. Crazy motherfuckers on dope who talk weird, and say the very things that end up getting them killed, so who's fault is that?