The Doors - The Soft Parade (CD, 1969)

Definitely the oddball in The Doors' catalog, this record is a diversion for a few reasons: First, the arrangements are noticeably larger, with horns and strings playing a big part in the majority of the tracks. Second, Morrison's songwriting credits are fewer here than on any other record, with Krieger stepping up and delivering some really strong numbers.

So, you would think the album might be uneven and, given Krieger's past output, a bit sappy. Not the case. This is a divisive record for sure, with many people not agreeing with the switch from the group's signature sound. I find it incredibly compelling, a record that should stand alone, proudly, as some of The Doors' more experimental material, as well as providing some of their most memorable songs. Here we go:

"Tell All the People" makes it clear right off the bat: this is not The Doors you have come to know and love. The horns are big, the progression is very Manzarek-less (though you can hear his piano), and Morrison is aided by big background vocals for the first time. Compared to their previous work, this sounds absolutely huge. For me, it works.

"Touch Me" has never been one of my favorite Doors songs. I don't really care for the lyrics, and the arrangement is almost too much on this one. You can see what they were going for, and they nailed it, but the lyrics are some of the most cliched ones in the history of the band. Knowing that is was originally titled "Hit Me" makes it a little more interesting, but not much.

"Shaman's Blues" is the first Morrison composition on the record, and the musicians are pared down considerably from the first two tracks. It's got a terrific haunting groove, and lyrics that work perfectly with the vibe of the song. Morrison's ad-libs at the end are also a lot of fun ("Optical promise" was always a favorite of mine).

"Do It" is the one song on the record credited to both Morrison and Krieger, and it does sound like a solid mix of the two. The song is dark but intricate with the changes, and the lyrics, while fairly simple, seems to have some sort of ulterior motives that add some mystery to the song. It couples nicely with "Shaman's Blues."

"Easy Ride" was a song that I initially hated when I was young. It sounded like The Doors at a ho-down, and I hated to hear this peppy and jangly side of them. I've learned to love the song, especially the lyrics. This is Morrison in juxtaposition mode, singing about masks and black polished stone, over a standard country-ish groove. It's a lot cooler than I ever gave it credit for.

"Wild Child" is back to the pure Doors sound, seeming like it was left over from their previous record. This is ragged Morrison, sounding probably drunk and mostly crazy. He speaks softly in the bridge and then absolutely yelps at the end. It's a good one.

"Runnin' Blue" is, other than the undeniable title track, probably my favorite song on this record. The chorus is a little flighty, but it has some of the most powerful verse sections they ever laid down. And Krieger's guitar work, though overshadowed a bit by the wild sax, is fucking sweet. And, clearly, it's an ode to Otis Redding, which is doubly sweet.

"Wishful, Sinful" reminds me a lot of "Yes, The River Knows," though it's even more over the top, and even better. The buildup in this song is constructed perfectly, and when it peaks, the chorus really works, even though Morrison sounds noticeably haggard in sections. They really open up the arrangement on this one, so it can be a lot to handle, but I like it. It just sounds very Soft Parade.

"The Soft Parade" is a beast, a song that jumps between tempos and styles while still maintaining a cohesive feel. To me, this is Morrison close to his peak, lyrically and melodically. There is no other way this record could have been closed as effectively. When he sings the "Welcome to the Soft Parade" lyric in the middle of this track, it gives me the good shivers. And I always thought the "Successful hills are here to stay" was a great line.

This was, for a long time, my favorite Doors record. But, when it comes down to it, I think I have to give it up to the next one...

"The Soft Parade"

The Doors - Waiting For The Sun (CD, LP, 1968)

Once you get past the first two songs on this one, it's flawless. I think some folks may not consider this one of the Doors' stronger albums, but that's tough to back up. The only real beef most Doors fans have with this one is that is was supposed to include the oft-fabled "Celebration of the Lizard," and instead you get one small part of it and the lyrics on the inside, which is just a tease. Sure, it would eventually show up on "Absolutely Live," but we never got a proper studio version. Anywho, I love the shit out of this record. I have listened to the second side of this one more times than I care to admit. Let's do it:

"Hello I Love You" is a strong candidate for worst Doors song. It sounds like nothing the band had ever done previously or would ever do again. On certain bootlegs you can hear Manzarek singing it because Morrison refused. And he was the one who wrote it. Yikes.

"Love Street" is a fine song, I guess, but I've never liked it. It seems lazy, and I always thought the lyrics were pretty weak for a Morrison composition. And the piano part makes the entire vibe just way too happy. Though it doesn't end up being a particularly happy song, but that "so far" tacked on at the end always struck me as obvious and corny.

"Not to Touch the Earth" gets us back into Doors-worthy quality. This is the only piece of "Celebration of the Lizard" offered here, and if this is all we get, it's much better than nothing. Manzarek's keyboards are steady and somehow manage to sound insane, and Krieger mirrors it with nutty guitar work that pluck and hammers and works perfectly. The breaks are many, and when they kick back in, the force increases every time. I've never grown sick of this tune.

"Summer's Almost Gone" is an old song, one that shows up in much worse form on some of their early demo recordings. Maybe this seems lackluster to some folks, but I've always really liked the layered pianos and Morrison's easy but sincere approach to the vocals.

It's followed (sensibly, I suppose) by "Wintertime Love," a song that I had a hard time getting into in my youth because I was obsessed with the darker material. I don't want to look it up right now, but this has got to be a Krieger composition. The lyrics are way too basic and the melody way too lilting. Still, it's nice and short, and Morrison fills it out well with deeper register in his crystal clear vocals.

"The Unknown Soldier" wraps up the first side. It's a cool idea, and really a pretty great song, but I'm not a huge fan of this song anymore. Seeing them do it live (on VHS) was a hoot for me when I was a kid, but now I just look forward to the throttling vamp at the end, and often don't have the patience to wait for it.

"Spanish Caravan" begins the second side, and it's a song that blew my mind when I was young. It did nothing less than convince me that Krieger was a full-blown guitar virtuoso, a man who could handle any style of music. He still sounds great on it, and so does Morrison. A really odd and fantastic song for them.

I could see people pegging "My Wild Love" as being self-indulgent and sort of indicative of Morrison's shamanistic obsessions, but I've never thought of it that way. I think the lyrics are great, the backing tracks are well thought out and reflective of the vibe of the tune, and the "she screams like a bird" line is fucking fantastic. Love it.

"We Could Be So Good Together" is a little "Hello I Love You" sounding, but it's better. Not the group's strongest composition, but I never skip it. It fits in great on what, as I've said, I consider a strong side two. Krieger goes a little nuts on his solo and you don't really see it coming.

"Yes, The River Knows" is about the most delicate song the band ever did. I could see some people being turned off by the lite-ness of it all, but I'm pretty sure it's, in the end, about drowning. And I think the melody is strong as shit.

When I read that Jim Morrison was falling-down drunk when the group recorded this song, it all made a lot more sense to me. Rarely has he sounded so out of his mind on a studio recording. It makes for a great song, and, particularly in the second verse, his slurring just adds to the build of the eventual chaos. I always think I'm getting sick of this song, then I listen to it and realize I think it's fantastic. Morrison's rambling at the beginning and the end are priceless.

"See, I've got to go out in this car with these people and..."

"Not To Touch The Earth"

The Doors - Strange Days (CD, 1967)

Ah, the days when a band would release their sophomore album nine months after their debut. Truly a great time to have been a music fan. Or so I imagine.

Though this album contains song that didn't make the cut on the first one, it's by no means a glorified b-sides compilation rushed out to capitalize on the success of "Light My Fire." Strange Days is an album unto itself, and quite a good one. It makes for a great companion to their debut, a sort of extended introduction to the band. Let's break 'er down:

"Strange Days" is the group at their most psychedelic, one of the only songs that features their instruments muddying together and not really working as separate, distinct parts. It sounds a little crowded as a result, but the lyrics are great and it's a good one to kick the album off with.

"You're Lost Little Girl" is a sullen and ostensibly sensitive song, though Morrison's lyrics seem almost sarcastic in a way. Maybe that's just me being pessimistic. Krieger's guitar solo is fantastic.

I always forget that "Love Me Two Times" is from this record. For some reason I always picture it being later in their career. This is a fine song, though not one of my favorites in the Doors catalog. Maybe I've heard it too many times. Or maybe the lyrics seem a bit trite to me. Odd for its very bass-y sounding bass.

"Unhappy Girl" is easily the Doors' album track that I've listened to the least in my life. It never made it onto any random collections or best-ofs (which I hit pretty hard in my youth), and it's one of those songs that is so short and so unmemorable that I guess it just got lost in the shuffle for me. The only song of theirs I can say that about, and the only song on this record that does sound like a b-side.

"Horse Latitudes" is awesome just for how bold it was for them to record it and put it on an album in the first place. It's short enough to not seem intrusive, and whatever they did to get those sounds is pretty sweet. The screams at the end that fade out are still enough to creep me out.

"Moonlight Drive" will always be remembered as the song Morrison sang to Manzarek on the beach that one fateful afternoon, but it should also be praised for being a great pop song with bizarre lyrics that meld perfectly with the eeriness of Krieger's slide guitar. I have always really loved this track.

"People Are Strange" keeps with the "strange" theme of the album, I suppose, and my only beef with it has always been that it's too short. It's a great song with a really striking melody, and I always thought they should have drawn it out a little bit more. At just over two minutes, it comes and goes really quick. Oh, how a teenage boy can convince himself he identifies with these lyrics perfectly...

"My Eyes Have Seen You" reminds me a bit of some of the more lackluster tracks on the first record, but when it picks up steam, it becomes a strangely forceful little number. Listen to it on headphones and you can really hear how much weird shit Krieger it doing to add depth to the relatively simple verses.

"I Can't See Your Face In My Mind" has always been a great Doors mixtape song for me, and I think it still would be. The meaning of the song is a little hazy, the lyrics get dark and then nicely confusing, and Morrison sounds sublimely tired during the whole thing. Great song that wouldn't have worked as well on any other album.

"When the Music's Over" always get compared to "The End," and while they're similar in length and their middle sections both have what seems to be stretched sections of Morrison free-wheeling it, the songs are quite different. This one is much brighter from the beginning, and it maintains a somewhat celebratory (or at least revolutionary) air throughout. The build-up in the middle ("We want the world...") is semi-legendary, and with good reason. This was expanded in their live sets, and the anticipation that it brought out of the crowd was something that was filled with a great sort of nervousness. And, if you need a song to close a set with, this is a good one. I've never had a problem listening to this one all the way through, as it is filled with wisely placed peaks and valleys that make sure the song keeps moving.

So, yes, another great one. I always love listening to the Doors in headphones. Their early recordings utilize very few tracks, and it's fun to hear what each one of them is doing.

"I Can't See Your Face In My Mind"

The Doors - The Doors (LP, CD, 1967)

I mentioned in my Beatles Hey Jude post that there were three LPs that shaped the way I initially viewed rock music from an early age. This is the second one we're getting to, and it's arguably the most important, definitely the most influential.

I need to preface our run through the superb Doors catalog with some candid asides:

First off, I love The Doors. If you're one of those people who hates them, that's fine. It's none of my business. But admit it in conversation, and you risk some silent but harsh judgment from me as I try to decide if you're lazy or just stupid.

Second, my early teenage years were spent absolutely immersed in this band. It was the only music that really mattered to me. I listened to plenty of other shit, but The Doors and Jim Morrison were always placed on their own pedestal. I found out later I wasn't alone in this; in fact, it's a pretty common rite of passage. But when you're into The Doors, you feel like nobody ever "got it" like you did.

Third, I am unrelenting on my opinions of this band. Prepare for me to praise all of their albums way too much.

Fourth, I am not sure if I have a copy of Absolutely Live on CD or LP. That could be a problem. I'll see if I can get one before we come to it. I may just write about it anyway. You have no way of knowing what I actually own.

Also, please watch this for reference. Alright.

The Doors' eponymous debut is a legendary record, one of the most celebrated LPs of the 60's, and with good reason. You already know all there is to know about "Light My Fire," so we'll mostly skip that. The depth in this record is in the songs that surrounded it. Fuck it. Let's track-by-track it.

"Break on Through (To the Other Side)" was strangely released as the band's first single, and though it's a tremendous track, I'm not sure who thought it would have hit potential. It's still a great song, and if you listen to any of the live stuff from later in their career, it's really interesting to see how the song evolved into a more groove-oriented number.

"Soul Kitchen" has always been, for my money, one of the most underrated Doors songs. (Not that it doesn't get recognized plenty, it's just often overshadowed.) The lyrics are fantastic: "Your fingers weave quick minarets/Speak in secret alphabets/I light another cigarette/Learn to forget." And, it's a great example of how vital Ray Manzarek was to this band.

It's between that one and "The Crystal Ship" for my favorite song on this record. Most days, I think I'd have to give the nod to "The Crystal Ship." It's classic Doors eeriness, coupled with lyrics that used to haunt me in my sleep. And the melody is much more complicated than it seems. A really smart song.

"Twentieth Century Fox" has actually grown on me over time. It seemed like filler and very "un-Doors-like" to me for a long time, but I realized I was hung up on what seemed like corny wordplay in the chorus. The lyrics aren't mind-blowing, considering what Morrison was capable of, but it's a solid song.

"Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar)" is fun the first three thousand times you hear it. I finally sort of grew tired of it a few years ago. An interesting song to cover, but sort of an odd one out in the Doors catalog. I guess I prefer their original material...

"Light My Fire" is the song most often associated with the band, and I've just heard it way too many times. I could hum all the solos for you in the long version. So, that's sad, I suppose.

"Back Door Man" is another cover, but Morrison's guttural growling on it made it seem like a real Doors song. Feeding off the obvious sexual connotations, this is a song that showed the Doors really working as musicians, building to precipice and letting Morrison just wail it out to relieve the pressure. I never tire of this one.

"I Looked At You" is a song that I always pictured the band writing in haste to appease some label guy who was looking for something for the teenybopper set. This song is only notable for being the Doors' laziest composition. But it's short.

"End of the Night" is a dark creeper, a song that features Morrison in full-on prose mode. It's structurally strange as well, never really deciding on a proper chorus or verse. The lyrics are great, and if you pay close attention to what Robby Krieger's doing on the guitar, it's impressive.

"Take It As It Comes" is almost in the same league as "I Looked At You," but it gives the musicians more room to spread out and ends up being a stronger song. The lyrics are a bit generic for my taste, and the "specialize in having fun" line always struck me as awkward at best.

I bet I wasn't even ten the first time I heard "The End." I had no idea what the hell was happening, and probably was wondering why the song was so damn long. I've learned to love this song, and I don't know what it is, but I've always felt this was one of Morrison's standout vocal performances. When he comes in in the beginning, he just sounds flawless. People love to clown this song, and that's fine, but if you consider the year this came out, the content and length of the song, and the fact that people reference every line from it, you have to admit it's an indelible performance. I also think it's some of John Densmore's best work, and a bold way to end a debut album.

If you're 17, get stoned and listen to this on headphones. Really, you owe it to yourself.

"Break On Through (To The Other Side)"

Dizzee Rascal - Boy In Da Corner (CD, 2003)

Sometimes I just have to hear what all the hubbub is about.

So it went with Dizzee Rascal, the undisputed buzz champ of '03. I had to see if this 18 year old kid could really live up to the hype. Did he? For me, not really. Don't get me wrong, this is a great record, and a quite original one at that. But, come on, chopping up Billy Squier's "The Big Beat" is nothing new. And really, some of the beats here, while cool sounding at first, are just too sparse to have a really lasting effect.

What Dizzee's got going for him is a great voice and an outstanding knack for abstract rhythm that solely drives the majority of these cuts. Songs like "Hold Ya Mouf" and "Jus' A Rascal" wouldn't be shit without him going fucking tongue-twisty nuts all over the top of 'em. So, the kid's not to be written off. Would people love him as much if he didn't have that dope voice coupled with that thick-as-shit accent? Maybe, but it'd be a tougher sell.

I still listen to this record, and I still enjoy it. Do I ever rock it from front to back anymore? Not bloody likely.

"I Luv U"

The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy - Hypocrisy Is the Greatest Luxury (CD, 1992)

This is another one of those discs that I always wanted to buy when I was a teenager, but never got around to picking up till about 15 years later.

I've been listening to it on and off for the last year, always wondering what I would have thought had I owned it when I was 16. Well, first, here's the deal with the Heroes: Michael Franti, who everyone mostly knows from Spearhead, fronted this group which, as you can probably tell, has some statements to make. Nothing wrong with that. Labeling the music as strictly hip hop wouldn't be completely accurate, because Franti isn't a rapper in the traditional sense, and the beats aren't typical hip hop, especially by 1992 standards. The music is dense and drum heavy, and it seems to be a mix of samples and actual players.

Franti often comes off as a more laid back Chuck D, choosing a spoken word approach to convey his concerns, of which he has many. It's cool for a while, but when you listen to three six minute-plus songs in a row, all describing how fucked up the nation is, it can get tedious. Franti is compelling in what he says, but his ability to gel with the tracks is sometimes questionable.

This is a great example of one of those records that's always going to be a darling with the critics (that's what initially piqued my interest in '92), but will have a problem connecting with a wide audience because there's rarely a break from the deadly serious subject matter. And songs like the slow and repetitive (and eight minute long) "The Winter of the Long Hot Summer" are hard to get with. It's well done, but at some point you have to draw the overkill line.

So, would I have liked it in my youth? I'll say this: I probably would have been much more willing to give it a fair shake. The subjects would have been more topical, the beats would have been much more mind-blowing (they're still great), and I was strapped for cash back then, so anything I bought got listened to quite a bit.

Would I have told people I loved it? You bet I would have.

"Language of Violence"

I Went to a Show (cont.): Supersuckers 20th Anniversary Show (November 29th, 2008 - Seattle, WA)

A few more notes on the Supersuckers show this last Saturday, and some addressing of Biff's comments:

The origins of "Seventeen Poles": Eddie prefaced the song by saying roughly this: When they were teenagers in Tucson, there was a party spot they would go to. It was on the outskirts of the East side of town, and once they passed a certain intersection, they would count seventeen telephone poles, then hang a left. This was where they did their drinkin'.

Mention of Dancing Eagle: None. Eddie did, however, mention at one point that Ron had been "in and out of the band a couple times." Not surprising: no mention of Mr. Rick Sims.

Other notable banter by Eddie: He mentioned a few times that it only took them twenty years to sell out the Showbox, and he punctuated that thought by saying that they told him he couldn't do it this time around, and he proved 'em wrong. A nice little victory for the band, no matter how long it took, I suppose. He seemed happy as shit about it. If we know anything, we know that Eddie enjoys the adoration of the crowd, and he was basking in it.

In possibly the most sincere moment in the onstage history of the band, Eddie paused towards the end of the show and gave a warm thank you to the band, who he said had literally given him his life, his family, and everything he has. Bolton gave a sarcastic "Aw, shucks," which effectively killed the moment. Eddie then thanked the fans humbly before they got back to business.

Early in the set, he said that to the best of their recollection, their first practice was in December of '88, which made this an almost precise 20th anniversary. Being a fan of accuracy, I thought this was pretty sweet.

Belligerent screaming requests for "Dead Homiez" by me: Sadly, none. Though I did hold up a middle finger during "Born With A Tail," which I haven't done since '01.

Typical shirtless moshing drunk dipshit rookie Supersuckers fan quotient: High, but I've seen higher. I only spotted one asshole with his shirt off, and I only got slammed into hard about three times. I did, however, get hit in the head with a hat that was flung into the air by a slam-dancing choadwad. I also almost got hit with a drumstick thrown by Zeke's fat shitty drummer. I dodged it, while also trying to make it crystal clear that I was not the least bit interested in catching it. Kept my arms folded.

Eddie's resemblance to James Hetfield: How dare you.

Holy shit, somebody's already posted video of the show:

"Tasty Greens"