Following an incident in Miami in 1969 in which frontman Jim Morrison had exposed himself onstage, coupled with the critical failure of their fourth album, The Soft Parade, The Doors were in desperate need of a hit. Under pressure from their label, Elektra Records, to release a new album as soon as possible, by September the band were prepared to return to the studio. Their previous effort had been something of an experiment, incorporating elements of jazz that had been a radical departure from their traditional sound. But neither their fans nor critics had been impressed and this reaction had prompted the group to return to their roots. Morrison’s heavy drinking had become a problem and had begun to take its toll on his voice and his bandmates were growing concerned for his health.

Despite the drama of the past twelve months, Morrison had undergone a productive period lyrically and felt inspired during the writing of the album, which had gone towards a more simple and gritty blues sound. Initially, the album was to be called Roadhouse Blues and the song of the same name was written about his partner, Pamela Courson. The title that the band would eventually settle for, Morrison Hotel, was named after an establishment in downtown Los Angeles that pianist Ray Manzarek had discovered. The recording of Morrison’s vocals would prove to be the most difficult as his drunken state would often prove problematic, sometimes resulting in Courson drinking his alcohol in an effort to keep him from getting drunk. The aftermath of The Soft Parade was still present during the recording sessions, with the single Running’ Blue (co-sung with guitarist and writer Robby Krieger) failing to score high in the charts.

Once again, The Doors worked alongside producer Paul A. Rothchild, who had produced all of their four previous albums, and would also be responsible for their first live release (1970’s Absolutely Live), but would not contribute to their last album with Morrison, L.A. Woman. Out of the studio, Morrison had become a burden to his friends, constantly drinking to the point that he would either injure himself or become aggressive. Regardless, eleven tracks would eventually be assembled for the album and would be split into two halves – Hard Rock Cafe and Morrison Hotel. Gone were the horns and strings that had populated The Soft Parade and instead Krieger’s grungy guitar sound dominated the recordings. blues guitarist Lonnie Mack would perform live bass on two tracks, whilst Manzarek would play the other songs on keyboard, as he had done on their previous work.

Morrison Hotel made its debut in February 1970, whilst The Doors were performing in San Francisco and Long Beach, California. Erasing all memory of their last effort, the album received an enthusiastic response from critics, with many praising it as their best work. Only one single would be released to promote the record, You Make Me Real, although its b-side – Roadhouse Blues – would prove to be more popular with fans. Following the release of Absolutely Live in November 1970, the band continued to explore their newfound blues style with their final ‘official’ album, L.A. Woman, before Morrison’s death in Paris in 1971 at the age of twenty-seven. A 40th anniversary edition of the album was released in 2010.

Source: Love it Loud

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It is only fitting that one of Gov. Charlie Crist's parting actions from the political stage would be the posthumous pardon of a dead man; after all, Charlie Crist is, in a political sense, a "dead man walking."

Gov. Crist is vowing to submit Jim Morrison's name to the state clemency board next month for a posthumous pardon of Morrison's 1970 conviction on charges of profanity and indecent exposure. Morrison, the famed rock and roller of the American rock band The Doors, was arrested on charges of lewd and lascivious behavior following a concert in Miami where he supposedly appeared intoxicated, taunted fans, simulated masturbation and threatened to expose himself. The ill-fated concert ended with fans mobbing the stage.

Although he was sentenced to six months in jail, Morrison never served time in jail, due to his death at the age of 27 of a suspected heroin overdose. Doors' fans have always decried the conviction of their idol on the basis that the jury that convicted him was not comprised of his peers. For instance, they argue that no one on the jury was younger than 40.

Apparently, our governor agrees with the Doors' fans. He has publicly stated that the more he reads about Morrison's case the more convinced he is that an injustice has been done. Of course, when it comes to our governor, his public statements don't necessarily reflect his private sentiments — if he actually possesses any sincere sentiments — but may merely be the latest in a long line of political schemes to ingratiate himself to a particular segment of the electorate.

Could it be that Gov. Crist, who has publicly committed political suicide by shamelessly pandering to all sides of the political spectrum in hopes of furthering his political career, is attempting to resurrect his political aspirations by courting a new political base? Is he now going after Doors' fans, substance abusers and public exhibitionists? Don't be surprised if Charlie is not taking up their cause just as "sincerely" as he has everyone else's over the years. I, for one, fully expect him to come out any day now in a Jim Morrison T-shirt calling for the legalization of marijuana and public nudity. 

Source: TBO.com

Have you ever tried to play like one of your guitar heroes, but weren’t able to get your tone quite right? Allow us to lend a hand. Straight from the Gibson archives, “Gibson’s Classic Tone Tip” can help you sound just like some of music’s biggest stars and greatest legends. This time we’re spotlighting one of the greats of the Gibson SG: The Doors’ Robby Krieger. Known for his unique playing style, Krieger also created a signature sound that was a mix of a quiet, clean tone and a louder, thick tone. With the help of this guide, you just might be able to break on through to Krieger’s unique mystique.

The Doors made a huge name for themselves in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s by continually releasing smash hits. Besides the flamboyant style of lead singer Jim Morrison, a lot of the band’s notoriety came from its musical chops.

Many of the best bands in the world have one person that stands out in people’s mind. Granted, for different people, the member of the band that stands out is different.

Take these as examples: Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page), Kiss (Gene Simmons), Black Sabbath (Ozzy Osbourne), The Eagles (Don Henley), AC/DC (Angus Young), Aerosmith (Steven Tyler) and for many fans The Doors were synonymous with Jim Morrison.

However, guitarist Robby Krieger wrote some of The Doors most famous songs on his Gibson SG, including "Light My Fire,” "Love Me Two Times,” "Touch Me" and "Love Her Madly."

Just to get an idea of how many hit songs Krieger, John Densmore, Ray Manzarek and Jim Morrison wrote in a few years, let’s look at 1967 to 1971. A relatively short period of time in music history, but a very productive one.

The Doors release six albums in those five years including the songs “Break On Through,” “Light My Fire,” “The End,” “Love Me Two Times,” “Moonlight Drive,” “Hello, I Love You,” “Touch Me,” “Roadhouse Blues,” “Love Her Madly,” “L.A. Woman,” and “Riders On The Storm.” And those are just some of the bigger ones—there are others, depending on your taste in The Doors music.

While The Doors continued on for a couple of years after Jim Morrison’s death, July 3, 1971 marked the end of an era in rock music.

Krieger gained notoriety not just for writing some classic riffs, but also for the way he played his guitar. While most rock guitarists chose to use a pick, Krieger played by plucking the strings with his fingers.

While not the most popular style, it does allow for a lot of control over the strings and the tone.

I’m using Guitar Rig, AmpliTube and Pod Farm. I used a classic amp model in all three applications, going more for a tone on the cleaner side. When palm muting notes, you still get a fair bit of crunch, but not over the top.

I targeted the guitar sound in “Love Me Two Times” and “Roadhouse Blues” for the Robby Krieger tone I made on the computer. When plucked lightly, you will get a nice clean sound, but it will thicken up when you pick harder and palm mute the notes.

I used a guitar with passive pickups, so keep that in mind when loading these tones on your computer.

Robby Krieger wrote some of the most amazing riffs in rock. Grab your guitar and start playing! 

Source: Gibson

VANCOUVER — I talked to Doors keyboard player Ray Manzarek on Nov. 5 about the release of The Doors Live in Vancouver 1970. He was funny, insightful and brimming with energy.

Sun: Okay I’ve set up my digital recorder, so you can talk for 17 hours.

Manzarek: [laughs] Considering it will probably be two paragraphs in the paper.

Sun: How did you come to record this Vancouver show in 1970?

Manzarek: Oh, you turn on the recorder. Somebody was carrying a tape recorder with them, probably Vince, our road manager. Vince Treanor brought a tape recorder with him, and turned it on.

Sun: So you recorded every gig?

Manzarek: No. Only the better ones. Vancouver was certainly one of the better gigs.

Sun: Why record that one, because of Albert King?

Manzarek: Exactly. It was exciting, Albert King was going to be playing the blues with Robby Krieger, while Jim Morrison sings.

Sun: Was King on the whole tour, or just on the one show?

Manzarek: No no, just up in Vancouver.

Sun: What do you remember about that gig?

Manzarek: Ah, Albert King was playing blues guitar with us. [laughs] That’s the important thing. Usually… let’s see what I remember. A large audience, lights shining in my eyes, can’t see the audience, [the] Doors are excited because Albert King is coming onstage, so we played great. Then Albert comes on and we played even better. We played dark and deep and funky. Morrison was just transfixed by Albert King’s manual dexterity and adroitness on the guitar, so he was in blues-boy heaven. We were all blues boys, we had all gone to the south side of Chicago, which appeared magically in Vancouver, Canada. And we’re playing the blues, we’re a blues band on the south side of Chicago playing with Albert King. Great night, absolutely great, had a fine time.

Sun: And King did play some wicked slide guitar that night.

Manzarek: Wicked, absolutely wicked.

Sun: Was Robby letting him do the leads?

Manzarek: Oh no, they were trading back and forth, that’s what was fun. These two excellent guitar players are trading licks back and forth, as the song is going along.

Sun: Did you do any rehearsing with him?

Manzarek: Hell no. Are you kidding? What are we playing? The blues! Is no problem. [chuckles]

Sun: This is the Morrison Hotel tour, eh?

Manzarek: Yeah.

Sun: But you only do one song from Morrison Hotel, Roadhouse Blues.

Manzarek: Well, what more needs to be done? Roadhouse Blues was the song to do. It wasn’t the classic then, but it’s become a classic. All we have to do is step onstage and have Robby play the opening lick – I don’t know if you can put it in the newspaper, but it goes dunt-da-dunt-da-dunt-dunt-da-da-da, and the audience breaks into a cheer of appreciation and acknowledgment and knowledge of the song. It’s amazing how many people know that song, they love that song. Then when we get to the end of it the whole audience sings ‘I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer. The future is uncertain, and the end is always near.’

Man, they’re singing that song with us in Belgium these days. It’s amazing. And what a great line, ‘the future’s uncertain, the end is always near.’ Sort of prophetic in a way. Jim didn’t have really long to go after that. That was pretty close to the end. It’s almost as if there’s an intimation of his mortality, and the tragedy that was to come. It might have flashed before his eyes – the future’s uncertain, and the end is always near. Can you imagine him writing that alone at night? I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what happened… the angel of death brushed his wing, or the angel of death brushed her wing, her wing, against his shoulder as he was writing. He probably got a shiver in completing that line. It’s a great line, but it’s also tragic.

Sun: It’s also one of those songs… I think in the review it said they had to quiet the crowd down, because it got everybody up.

Manzarek: Well that’s Canada for you. That’s Canada, losing their minds once again, Ray said facetiously. But what a great place to play, man. Vancouver’s fabulous, I love that city. In all honesty, Sarah Palin gets elected in 2012, Ray and Dorothy Manzarek escape to Vancouver. We’re getting out, man. We’ll keep the property here in Napa, but until she’s out of office, we’re going to go up and eat a lot of salmon and Chinese food and all the other great stuff you guys have up there in Vancouver.

It’s a fabulous city. And it doesn’t snow! It snows outside of Vancouver, but it doesn’t snow [in the city]. For us California people, we can handle the weather there, because it’s so close to the ocean. And it’s so civilized, you guys are so damn civilized. And have intelligence, unlike your American southern neighbours. We’re bunch of southern hillbillies to you guys, I imagine. Especially after this election. Gee whiz.

Sun: In the 60s, how was Vancouver viewed by American bands like yourself?

Manzarek: As a safety net. It was a safety net. People were escaping, so called draft-dodgers. People who said ‘hell no, we won’t go.’ Like Ali, who said ‘no Vietnamese person ever called me nigger.’ It was the west coast escape centre. It was like the Civil War and the underground railroad, moving people up from the south to the north. That’s where people were going, to Vancouver.

So you knew when you played Vancouver it was going to be a great audience, there was going to be a lot of pot in the air, and there’d probably be a lot of expats, American expatriates, in the audience. That’s the way it seemed when we played there.

Sun: How many times did you play here? I know you played in 67.

Manzarek: God, I don’t know. It seems like we played there a half-dozen times. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. I can’t tell… things begin to fade away, lo these many years later. But we played there enough times to take the ferry boat over to Victoria. God, we went to the Butchart Gardens, probably in August or something. It was beautiful weather, holy cow man, couldn’t have been nicer. Seafood couldn’t have been fresher. Always a great time. We didn’t play there enough, we could have done weekly gigs up in Vancouver. Or do a week in residence at some hip club, that would have been a cool thing to do.

Sun: Getting back to the gig itself, you did a 17-minute version of Light My Fire. The other released live versions are about eight minutes, did you just play it until it felt like it was the end?

Manzarek: You know what? It was Albert King on the show, giving us a great jolt of energy. So everyone’s improvisational skills were elevated that night. And the feedback you get from the audience also keeps you going. The audience is cheering you on, we’re on a creative high at the moment, and man, it just went. It just goes and goes and goes. And then you feel it – I’ve said my piece, Robby you say your piece, Jim go ahead and do something, man. That’s the way improvisations work. You go until you’ve exhausted that particular moment in time, and you know when you’ve done that, because you run dry, sort of. Okay, come to the end of that, statement is made, on to the next guy, let’s finish the song. As it turns out, [that was] a long version.

Sun: So your gigs would change every night.

Manzarek: Oh absolutely, that was the whole joy of it. People even today come up to me and say ‘Don’t you get tired of playing Light My Fire?’ I say ‘Are you kidding? Do you get tired of having sex?’ [laughs] Come on, man! Do you get tired of f-----g? No you don’t, because there’s always an improvisation, there’s always a new position, there’s always a little variation. We’re always improvising. It’s like Miles Davis playing All Blues. Miles plays All Blues, you play it different every night. That’s the fun of Doors music, you play it different every night.

Sun: That song was mostly written by Robby. Did you come up with the keyboard line, or did Robby?

Manzarek: Did Robby come with that – that’s a keyboard line! A guitar player would never come up with a line like that. That’s Bach, Bach on the keyboards, a couple of hundred years later. That’s my riff, my keyboard line. Jim wasn’t going to come up with it. [He affects a high voice] ‘I have it Ray!’ I can see him as an English lord, Lord Morrison, singing it to me. No, impossible. I couldn’t even sing it. It’s my fingers, on automatic pilot. They went into that creative zone that the five on my right hand are capable of doing. Along with Lefty, our Doors bass player, my left hand.

Sun: So you played the bass parts with your left hand, not with your feet [on bass pedals]?

Manzarek: Oh my God, you’ve realized for the first time, Fender Rhodes keyboard bass on top of a Vox Continental, or a Gibson Kalamazoo. Gibson Kalamazoo, what a name. I did not play a Farfisa, nor did I play with my feet, because I didn’t play a Hammond. Besides, who can play with their feet? It’s impossible, I tried that once. You’s have to be Fred Astaire. You’d have to know how to tap-dance to do this with your feet. It’s one thing to play with your left hand and your right hand, but then you add your feet to it? I’m not Fred Astaire, I can’t do this. It was impossible. I had never studied it, I found it to be a total impossibility.

And I never would have done it anyway, because we would have had to drag a Hammond around. Who the hell wants to drag a Hammond organ around?

Sun: And the Leslie speaker.

Manzarek: And a Leslie on top of it? Forget it.

Sun: You did this on June 6, 1970. When did you record L.A. Woman? It must have been not that far afterwards.

Manzarek: Umm, after that. We were recording L.A. Woman probably into the winter, such as it is in Los Angeles. Maybe somewhere in November, I can’t be sure. Before New Year’s, 1971.

Sun: So what happened between Morrison Hotel and L.A. Woman, which is a really great record, but also a different record for you guys. It seemed that Morrison had some fresh life, creatively.

Manzarek: Absolutely. I think Jim had a great line, ‘in that year we had a great visitation of energy.’ For me, that year lasted from 1965 til July 3rd, 1971. So he had a great blast of energy and revitalization. It’s a tragedy that we didn’t get to continue.

But you know that’s life. The other side of life is death. He lived his short years on the planet, but he was incredibly creative. A great friend, I miss him madly. I’d love to have him back with us, going on the road and playing those songs. We wouldn’t work nearly as hard as we did back then, we’re well into our 60s and 70s, we take it easy, but we’d be out there playing. And we’d be up to Vancouver, I can tell you that.

Sun: How many gigs did you guys play? Were you one of those bands that made a record, then went out on the road, then back in the studio?

Manzarek: F--- no man. We’d go on the road, but we’d go on the road for three or four days. A tour for the Doors was four days, then we’d go back home. We never did 60 city tours. That seemed totally insane. Forget that, we’ll go and play the weekends and go back to L.A., then go out on another weekend and play some more. That’s how we did it. We took it easy.

Sun: Did that keep the gigs fresh?

Manzarek: It kept everything fresh. It kept it all fresh. We wanted to go home to our honeys, go home to your girl. You can drag your girl on the road with you – and we did, I took Dorothy on the road with me a large percentage of the time – but it gets tiring. You’re like a gypsy musician, going ‘Where are we going now?’ “Well, we’re going to Kansas City.’ ‘I think I’ll pass on the midwestern tour, Ray.’ ‘Come on, we’re going to Chicago, honey. Milwaukee, Kansas City, Cleveland and Chicago.’ She would pass on most of those. But always enjoyed going up north, going to Vancouver was always fun. Seattle and Vancouver, that was definitely part of the tour.

Sun: So you’d play Portland/Seattle/Vancouver.

Manzarek: You got it. And we’d play San Francisco, maybe the Fillmore. It was always fun to play the Fillmore, those psychedelic ballrooms. And then work our way up the coast. That’s a nice four-city tour, right there.

Sun: What was Morrison like to play with onstage, spontaneous, unpredictable?

Manzarek: Unpredictable, wild, crazy and unpredictable, so the legend goes. And I will maintain the legend.

Sun: What was the wildest thing you ever saw him do?

Uploaded by lstudiopresents on Apr 16, 2009

Manzarek: What was the wildest thing? I’m not telling you! [laughs] Are you kidding? How about Miami, let’s go with Miami. The man could eventually have gone to jail for that performance. Can you imagine that? They were going to put him in jail for Miami.

Jesus. ‘Okay, you’re going to jail, boy!’ ‘What? What is this country?’ ‘You have offended the sensibilities of Miami, Florida. Ergo, you are going to jail.’ He was still up for two counts [when he died]. I think they had him for almost a year in jail [if convicted]. It was either two consecutive six month [sentences] or two consecutive three months and a $50,000 fine in Raiford Penitentiary in Dade County, Florida. Ooooo. That was certainly the wildest thing I ever saw him do.

Sun: How scared was he?

Manzarek: Scared. Scared s---less, man. We were all scared s---less. He was going to go to jail. To jail! ‘What did I do?' ‘Well, you performed an obscene act in public.’ ‘What was obscene?’ ‘You whipped out that thing, that tool, that ivory shaft.’

And there were no photos. There were a hundred photos offered in evidence, and not a single photo of that magnificent white snake. [laughs] What, did people stop taking photos all of a sudden? Fourteen thousand people went ‘Oh! My God, look at it! It’s there! It’s alive!’

And they never took any photos. It was odd. There were photos of everything else, the riots, Jim with the lamb, all offered in evidence, and not a single photo of exposure. And yet he was found guilty of that charge [indecent exposure]. He was found guilty of two charges. One was obscenity, open profanity – ‘Oh my God, he used the f-word at a concert! How horrible, he must be put in jail for that!’ And he exposed himself publicly. Each one of those was a three-month sentence. Wouldn’t you think that public exposure would be a lot longer? Whipping your d--- out would get you six months, whereas saying ‘s---’ live [would be] three months. But they were equal sentences, three months apiece.

Was he scared? Yeah. ‘No he was such a macho man that he wasn’t scared of doing six months in Raiford.’ You bet he was scared. We were all scared. We were more scared for him than I think he was scared for himself.

Sun: Is it true the legend of you meeting Morrison on the beach and him singing Moonlight Drive to you?

Manzarek: Yes. People are asking me that these days. Is it so far removed from the time? Yes, that’s exactly how it happened. No, we made the story up. It’s a great story. No, that’s exactly the way it happened, on the beach.

Sun: You still play with Robby, are you touring right now?

Manzarek: No, we’re not touring right now. I’m playing some little gigs around with a slide guitar player up here in northern California, Roy Rogers, a great blues man. Actually we’re playing tonight in San Francisco.

Sun: You’ve always played, you never rested on your laurels.

Manzarek: Why? My fingers still work, my brain still works. I’m strong and healthy, eat good food, and I love to play music. People have said to me ‘Why do you do this Ray?’ What am I going to do, just sit around? I do do that, when I’m not playing I sit around. But I love to play music.

Sun: How did you come to produce X, way back when?

Manzarek: That was weird, huh? I saw them playing at the Whiskey-a-go-go and thought they were fabulous. Walked up to them after the show, went backstage and said ‘You guys are great, man, this is the hardest, what a punk rock band.’ It was really, really powerful. America’s best punk rock band. And I don’t think they’ll ever get into the rock and roll hall of fame – they didn’t have a hit. I talked to somebody and they said ‘Naw, I don’t think they’re going to make it.’ I said ‘But they’re the best!’ ‘Yeah, I know they are, but they’re not famous.’ ‘Well, they’re infamous!’ ‘Well, it’s not called the infamous hall of fame.’ [chuckles] The Rock and Roll Hall of Infamy. When there’s one of those, X will be in there. And the guy said ‘And so will your lead singer!’

I just saw them at the Whiskey-a-go-go, fell in love at first sight.

Sun: How do you feel about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which obviously wasn’t in anybody’s mind back in the day?

Manzarek: Are you kidding? When I first heard about it, I thought ‘The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? That’s for baseball, football and basketball.’ Now there’s a hall of fame for everything. It was an idea that for some reason or another had come, and was unstoppable. It’s like Communism in Russia in 1917, unstoppable, this idea of a hall of fame. Fine, God bless. Actually it’s nifty. If you’ve ever been there, it’s really cool. If anybody’s going by Cleveland, it’s well worth a stop to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. After I saw it, I said this is cool, I like this.

Sun: Are there any other live records coming out? Are you going through your old tapes?

Manzarek: [We’re] going through the archives seeing what’s there. There may be [more releases], or there may not be, I’m not giving away that secret at this moment. But I will tell you that I must go to the bathroom. Our interview is concluded. 

Source: The Vancouver Sun