200th Post: A Quick Assessment.

Holy crap. I'm 200 posts into this mad experiment already. And I have to say, this has been an exercise. But, it's been fun, too. And it's far from over.

So, what do we know?

Well, I'm almost through the D's, which is the fourth letter of the alphabet, putting us roughly one sixth/one seventh of the way through (or about 15%, if my math isn't too screwy), at least alphabetically. So, at this rate, if these trends continue, I've got about 1100 albums left to do, which would take me almost exactly three more years.

Yowsa.

The breakdown so far (check the tags on the right for reference):

CDs are leading vinyl 116-84. That sounds about right, though I think vinyl will make up some ground as we move forward.

Top Genres: 90's rock is in the lead, followed closely by 90's hip hop, with 2000's rock and 2000's hip hop tied for third. That also seems about right.

80's Pop: not making a strong showing.

So, really, no big surprises so far.

I press on.

Dr. Dre - The Chronic (LP, 1992)

I remember being at the mall, Christmas shopping with my girlfriend in December of 1992. We stopped by Musicland, and while I was randomly flipping through the rap section, I came across The Chronic. I had been a long time fan of NWA, and while I knew they broke up, I had no idea Dre had a new solo record out. I, as the kids say, "copped that shit."

I put the cassette (yeah, that's right) in my girlfriend's tape deck on the way home, and was instantly confused. There was some dude I had never heard before (Snoop) just railing into Eazy-E, Tim Dog, and even Luke. Clearly there was some new shit going on. I spent some quality time with the tape for the next month or two, and when I saw the "Nuthin' But A 'G' Thang" video on MTV one day after school, I was surprised, but not shocked. The album was too good to not hit the mainstream.

So, like most teenage kids at the time, the album became one of my soundtracks for life in 1993. It was played at parties, always played if people were smoking grass anywhere, and it was all over MTV. And it should have been: it's that good.

Dre's introduction of a new cast of characters, a new label, a new style of music, not to mention the very timely embracing of the resurgence in popularity of marijuana smoking, couldn't have come at a better time. West Coast hip hop, and hip hop in general, was starting to slip a tiny bit. Dre brought it all back, creating songs that flowed by themselves, but especially in the context of the album.

Snoop Doggy Dogg was the most exciting rapper to come out in years, and his initial awkwardness just endeared him to us more. Daz and Kurupt were perfect as his hard-flexing cronies, and RBX and Rage were solid bit players at opposite ends of the spectrum.

This is one of those records that will always be on any "Best of the 90's" list anyone comes up with, as well as being one of the most important and influential rap records in history. You'd still be hard pressed to find somebody who doesn't know the first few lines to "G Thang."

"Let Me Ride"

Stallion Alert! - Paul Rothchild

Not a big enough picture, but what can you do. Paul Rothchild's on the left, there, taking a break from recording and hanging with Jim Morrison.

Rothchild, while mentioned quite a bit in conversations that really dissect the music of The Doors, doesn't, in my opinion, get quite enough credit. He produced all of their records, aside from LA Woman (Which he walked away from), and was really the fifth member of the band. The man initially reigned in the musicians, eventually (and quite quickly) crafted The Doors' sound, and made their records much better than they ever would have been without him. And this was in the days of four track recording.

Best of all, when he felt the band was losing it, he told them to eat it, and hit the road. A bold move.

He passed away in 1995, but if you look real close you can catch him in The Doors film, and you can read a super informative (Doors nerds get ready!) interview with him from 1981 here.

The Doors - Golden Album (LP, 1968)

I'm doing this one out of chronological order because it's a crazy oddity, and I'm not sure of the date on it.

This is another one of those weird Japanese bootlegs my dad picked up in Hong Kong during the Vietnam War. The cover says "Golden Album" on it, but the LP itself says "Golden Doors." I've been trying to find original copies of this online, and all I can come up with are versions like this one, where it's a 5-song, 33rpm 7". The one I have is a full album on a 12", and it's comprised solely of songs from the first three Doors LPs (hence the 1968 date I'm estimating).

So, not much to say about the music, though I guess it could have been a slightly more listener-friendly best-of. "The End" closes side one, "When the Music's Over" closes side two, and there's five songs on each side other than those. They're not in any sort of discernible order, but there's no glaring omissions, with the possible exception of "Moonlight Drive," which could have replaced "Back Door Man" as a more "radio" type song. Other than that, all the hits are here.

Semi-comical misspellings on the LP labels:

"Hellow I Love You"
"The Unknow Soldier"
"Ligeht My Fire"

And, from the lyrics to "The Crystal Ship" on the back, where the original line is "I'll drop a line": "I'll trap a ride."

Good stuff.

"The Crystal Ship"

The Doors - An American Prayer (1995 Remastered Edition) (CD, 1978/1995)

I was stupid to not have purchased this in its original version when I was really into The Doors, because I would have loved it. As it is, I have the extended version, many years past my Doors prime. It's 23 tracks of Morrison's poetry, Doors music from both the Morrison and post-Morrison eras, and it's a lot to take in.

For hardcore fans, it's a good one. For the casual listener, there's going to be plenty of filler. It's really a weird mix: chopped up versions of previously released Door songs with added material, audio from Morrison's bizarre HWY film, and a strangely placed live version of "Roadhouse Blues."

Some of the better tracks ended up being used in Oliver Stone's The Doors film, and they worked really well. "Ghost Song" is one of these, and if you can get past the disco-y sound of the backing track, it flows really well. Same with "A Feast of Friends." But some of it is awkward and forced, almost working but not quite getting there.

It also stinks a bit of the surviving Doors sucking the last little bit they could get out of Morrison, which is problematic. As with any posthumous recording, the source material is varied, and it leaves a lot of the songs sounding choppy. It's also clear there was extensive editing of a lot of the spoken stuff, and you start to wonder if it's been cheapened a bit by the whole process. Like I said, as a youngster, I would have loved this. Any insight into the inner workings of Jim Morrison, and any unreleased material of his would have been intriguing to me. As I listen to it now, I still find it interesting, but the flow of the thing seems iffy, and hearing the surviving members recreating a section of "The End" for "Hour for Magic" just strikes me as lame.

It's a fine line: hardcore fans might eat it up, but purists might have some serious qualms with it. I'm still on the fence, I guess.

"Lament"

The Doors - L.A. Woman (CD, 1971)

The Doors' final studio album with Jim Morrison is a solid one, though, like The Soft Parade, it stands out as veering off the beaten path of the instantly recognizable "Doors Sound." It sounds a little like Morrison Hotel, but even more bluesy, and the absence of Paul Rothchild as producer means the music just sounds different. Bottom line: songs from this record fit in a lot better on classic rock radio than most of their previous output.

"The Changeling" is, other than maybe the title track, the best song on this record, and I've never been able to decide if they were wise to put it first or if they were dumb to blow their load so early on. I can't deny that it's a great opener, a fast song with Morrison sounding enthused (though his voice sounds deep and ravaged throughout most of the record), and well he should be. This is a sweet, and somehow not incredibly popular Doors song.

"Love Her Madly" is a fine song, and it's this track specifically that I should point to when talking about The Doors being played on classic rock radio. This one's a staple. The piano's catchy, the song is succinct, but Morrison sounds positively bored throughout and I sort of lost interest in it at some point. But, if it's worth anything, I used to love it.

"Been Down So Long" is a chugging and charging blues number, notable only because it's too long and Morrison sounds like absolute shit on it. I hate to say it, but I have a really low tolerance for the "I'm an old blues man" dickery he wallowed in towards the end of his life. It's self-indulgent and obvious, especially coming from a guy who wrote such great lyrics. Doing it live is one thing, taking up 15 minutes of a record with it is lazy.

"Cars Hiss By My Window" - see above.

"L.A. Woman" is one of the last truly great Doors songs, a sprawling ode to the city that shows Morrison still had plenty left in him (making the above songs even more frustrating). Clocking in at almost eight minutes, this track has never felt long to me, and that's a sure sign of a great song. The "Mr. Mojo Risin'" thing might be a little too much for some people, and I get that, but I think it's pretty sweet. Also sweet: "Motel, money, murder madness/ Let's turn the mood from glad to sadness."

"L'america" still strikes me as the single weirdest Doors song. As a Doors-obsessed teen, it took me a long time to get on board with this one. Once I did, I loved it. Still do. But the composition is initially jarring, as it sounds backwards or something. L'america was a running theme in some of Morrison's poetry, but I can't remember much about the significance. Morrison sounds fucking sweet on this song.

"Hyacinth House" is a much-needed breather from the rock, a simple but really beautiful song that is sad in retrospect, but you never know how much of the words were autobiographical. I always forget how much I love this song, but when I hear it, it comes right back to me. I listened to the shit out of this one when I was 14.

"Crawling King Snake" is not only another blues number, but a cover, even, and it stands alone as the worst and most unnecessary Doors album track.

"The WASP (Texas Radio and the Big Beat)" is another song, like the title track, that features Morrison getting hit shit together and making the track really work. Once this one gets going (after the spoken word section), it is really damn good.

"Riders on the Storm" wouldn't be my choice for the last song on the last Doors album, but it certainly works. I've grown a little weary of this one over the years, but I can readily admit that the haunting melody and the rain/thunder thing are both fantastic. And at least Morrison goes out sounding like himself, with some great lyrics. "His brain is squirming like a toad" is a great, great line.

Not my favorite Doors album by any means, but this one still sticks with me through the years. I just skip the blues numbers because I'm lame like that.

"Hyacinth House"

The Doors - Morrison Hotel (CD, LP, 1970)

Is it utterly cosmic that we're covering my favorite Doors album on what would be Jim Morrison's 65th birthday? Nah, it's just coincidence, but I'll take it.

Morrison Hotel is The Doors returning to form in a huge way, ditching the horns and strings of The Soft Parade (not that there was anything wrong with that one-time dalliance) and getting back to the unfettered rock. They sound certifiably huge on this record, and right out the gate, Morrison sounds unrestrained and positively enthused. Maybe it's because he wrote the majority of the songs on this one, maybe it's because they're inching closer to the blues-based rock he had such a hard-on for at the time. Whatever the underlying cause, it adds up to the band at their peak, even as Morrison was headed fast down the crapper. Check his bloated mug on the cover and you can see he's gone to the bad place. Hard to believe this was only three years after their debut.

The songs on this one are all fantastic. Let's do it:

"Roadhouse Blues," a song I've heard way too many times but still hold some affection for, comes chugging right out the gate with Krieger's deep guitar plunking and Morrison bellowing like he really means it. And really, the "woke up this morning and got myself a beer" line is fucking fabulous any way you shake it. So are Morrison's ad-libbed scats in the bridge.

"Waiting for the Sun," a song you would have figured to appear on the album of the same name, apparently didn't get the finishing touches until two years later. Whatever, it fits in perfectly here, with Krieger's guitar loping and fiddling over Morrison's strong-as-shit vocals. "This is the strangest life I've ever known" = an awesome way to sum up Morrison's travails at the time, and a perfect line for this song.

"You Make Me Real" is a rolling piano frolic that features Morrison sounding better that ever, though he does sound a bit drunk as well. The way he slurs "Let me slide into your tender sunken sea" works perfectly, especially when punctuated by the almost knee-jerk sounding squeal he lets out right afterward. I never grow tired of this song.

"Peace Frog" would easily make my top ten list of best Doors songs, if not my top five. It's one of the only Doors songs with Morrison's vocals divided in a way that he sounds like he singing along with himself, and when it's stacked on top of Krieger's guitar line with the rare use of the wah-wah, it's just unstoppable. When it vamps at the end and Morrison starts crying out and rides it to the end, it just works in every way. And the lyrics are sweet, especially when the title has nothing to do with them.

"Blue Sunday" is the second half of "Peace Frog" in that they're joined by a bass line that never stops, but otherwise the songs don't seem to have anything to do with each other. This is a straightforward love song, and they wisely keep it short, adding to its effect. Morrison sounds sober and sincere, and it works well.

I think I heard Ray Manzarek once refer to "Ship of Fools" as one of the first "Ecology Rock" songs, and though that may stake too much claim in his Morrison-as-prophet tendencies, there seems to be some truth to it. "Smog gon' get you pretty soon...," etc. In the end, it's just a damn fun song.

Putting "Land Ho!" right next to it makes perfect sense (though on the LP they're separated by being on different sides of the record), because they sound a lot alike, and the aquatic-themed lyrics link them as well. This one is fun too, sounding celebratory and driving continuously towards a big finish that starts once Morrison yells out the title. This is Morrison beginning his big lean towards blues-base structures for lyrics, too.

"The Spy" is a slow groove, and though the lyrics are standard Morrison fare, they match perfectly with the creeping lull of the track. This one too, is bluesy.

"Queen of the Highway," though a tad bit too transparently autobiographical for my taste, is a great song. There's not really a discernible chorus, and the band just keeps pushing ahead, while diverging into some solid breakdowns. It's a rocker.

"Indian Summer," I found out fairly recently, was an old Doors composition, resurrected here and given proper treatment. I love this little song, though it's quite simple. It's short, but Krieger does some great stuff with it and Morrison sounds strikingly lucid.

"Maggie M'Gill" is, other than the shoe-in "Peace Frog," the best song on this record. Morrison sounds possessed, and Krieger breaks out the slide and goes ballistic. Morrison's lyrics are rife with tragedy (shocking), and though the blues influence is there, the real strength is just in the layers of gritty guitar and Manzarek's rolling bassline. There could not be a better closer for this record.

So yeah, I could really make a case for any Doors album being their best one, but I've always been pretty confident in this one being my favorite. It's a somewhat disconnected batch of songs that work really well when they keep coming one after another. And ol' Jimmy really sounds like he means it.

"Land Ho!"