50 Years of Doors
Dark curls fly as the leather suited figure throws back his head. Eyes closed, Jim Morrison clutches the microphone tightly and moans into it. The audience is still and silent with concentration, deep in a musically induced trance. Even 50 years since the birth of the band’s hypnotic sound, the doors remain a highly acclaimed and widely recognized band. As Morrison howls out dark poetry, his voice is accompanied by Robby Krieger plucking away bluesy riffs on his electric guitar, and the quick fingers of Ray Manzrek against the keyboard- the perfect collision of spacey musical narratives. The band’s sound is tied up neatly with a bow that is John Densmore, the band’s secret weapon and drummer. Densmore’s jazz-influenced approach to drumming allows him to experiment with rhythm. On his small jazz drum kit, he can form any sound from the soft, subtle beats heard in songs such as The End and Blue Sunday, to the signature rock and roll pounding of Light My Fire or Touch Me. Even with such musical freedom, Densmore manages to maintain the rhythmic stability any drummer must maintain to keep the band in perfect synchronicity. Though his contribution to the music happens in the back, Densmore is the front-man in the way that he is in control of the sound. In his hands, he holds the pulse that keeps the other musicians together, the beat to accompany Morrison’s dark poetry tangents, the music of a generation that still lives on today.
John Densmore was born on December 1st, 1944 in Los Angeles, California. He attended University Highschool where he played drums in the school marching band. He also played on the side for a young and fairly unsuccessful group called Terry and the Twilighters. After graduating in the early 1960s, he began to hang around with the soon-to-be guitarist of the Doors Robby Krieger, who was simply an acquaintance in passing from his high school days at the time. The two quickly became friends through their shared love of music and dreams of pursuing a profession in that field. Their late teenage years were spent together exploring the happening areas of Los Angeles, lingering in their favorite record stores all day and listening to their favorite bands at local clubs all night. In a short period of time, Densmore and Krieger went from being friends to bandmates when they put together a band called the Psychedelic Rangers. “The Psychedelic Rangers were more folk rock,” said Densmore of the group’s sound, “whereas the Doors are more based in blues and jazz.”
The Psychedelic rangers was a short lived experience, however, due to another band called Rick and the Ravens, the keyboardist of which was no other than Ray Manzarek, future member of the Doors. Manzarek met Densmore in a meditation class and asked him to join Rick and the Ravens, a rock band consisting or Ray, his brother’s Rick and Jim Manzarek, and Ray’s friend from school, Jim Morrison. The band rehearsed in the Manzareks’ garage, jamming on rock standards they knew and attempting to write their own songs. When success eluded the struggling band, Jim and Rick Manzarek announced their resignation, declaring the band to be “headed nowhere fast.” The remaining members of Rick and the Ravens weren’t ready to give up so easily, though. They continued on without Ray Manzarek’s brothers, recruiting Krieger to join as their new guitarist, and promoting Morrison from backup vocalist and lyricist to lead singer of the group. They renamed themselves The Doors after the title of the Aldous Huxley book The Doors of Perception- one of Morrison’s all time favorites reads. Over the course of the next few months, the Doors began to develop their own unique sound. “It grew and grew over the years,” says Densmore, “but in a few months we had our sound. We decided not to get a bass player, and Robby played bottleneck guitar on electric which was not used much at all. So that was a unique beginning to the Doors sound,” a sound which he describes as being “a melting pot of jazz, blues, and classical, and Jim’s great literary words on top.”
The Doors were inspired by such musicians as the Rolling Stones, Muddy Waters, and John Coltrane. Densmore’s greatest idol was jazz drummer Elvin Jones. “Elvin Jones gave me my hands,” he declares. The four Doors would sit around and discuss their musical role models, dreaming big rock and roll dreams. In case they were ever to become successful as a band, they decided that when it came to songs, performances, and other big decisions, if one man said no, they all had to agree. There was to be no front man- they would share writing credits, and play as four equal parts.
In 1966, after a short stint at a local club called London Fog, the Doors scored a golden gig at the Whiskey-a-go-go, one of the hippest, most frequented clubs of the time. The Doors were asked to return time and time again, and eventually became regular performers at the Whiskey. Slowly but surely, they were achieving underground fame in the Los Angeles area.
In the same promising year of 1966, the Doors scored a record deal with Elektra Records. By 1967, they had finished recording their first studio album simply titled The Doors. Their debut album achieved immediate commercial success, thus beginning the band’s exciting transition from clubs to auditoriums. Densmore describes this point in Doors history as his favorite stage in the bands evolution. “The train was leaving the station,” he recalls happily. “It was very exciting.”
Once that train left the station, there was no turning back. Their single “Light My Fire” climbed quickly to the very top of the charts where it stayed for three weeks. The Doors became a colossal commercial success, playing sold out venues and signing autographs on the streets. Their deep, bluesy sound radiated rebellion. Danger seeped from their dramatic performances. Their lyrics gushed with uncensored passion. They were opening doors for the world- doors of noncomfornity and possibility. The Doors were considered by many to be a symbol of freedom in an unfree world, their hit song Light my fire serving as the anthem of the freewheeling nineteen sixties. “It was a musical bed for Jim to lie down in,” said Densmore of their raw, unexpurgated sound. “And he liked it!”
Just as the Doors reached their peek, their foundation began to deteriorate, as Morrison began to use alcohol as a coping mechanism for his troubles. With great fame came great expectations that rested heavy upon Morrison’s shoulders, weighing him down. He became associated so strongly with freedom that he had no creative space to sing about anything else, leaving him ironically unfree, chained to his own sermon. Liza Williams of the L.A. Free Press described Morrison as being viewed by the world as a barbie doll, saying “he is our Jim Morrison and that’s why we want him to sing “Light My Fire” and stop stop STOP all these other strange sentences that the doll didn’t say when we bought her.” As excessive popularity consumed the band, Morrison’s lyrics grew darker, his unpredictable stage antics more and more out of control, and his drinking ceaselessly heavier. “We were cast in the roles of high priests in this drama,” says Densmore in his first memoir Riders on the Storm. “The audiences were our disciples. It was intoxicating. I concentrated so hard that I often put myself into a trance.”
Under the influence of inordinate fame, cracks began to appear in the unified structure of the Doors as the once close band mates began to bicker over issues both musical and personal. Densmore even announced he was quitting the band at one point, though he never followed through. In 1968, the Doors had their first big fight when Buick offered them $75,000 to use Light My Fire in a commercial. With Morrison elsewhere, the other three members accepted the proposal, thinking nothing of it. Upon his return however, Morrison was furious, declaring that their songs were precious creations and to sell the rights to major establishments was to contradict the anti-materialism ideology they preached in their music. The other members respected Morrison’s opinion and declined Buick’s offer, still living by their original all-for-one agreement. After all, they were a team, a musical democracy. Through thick and thin, they lived by this law, until 1969, by which point recording sessions had turned into cold wars. After much disagreement and tension, and even a yelling fight between Morrison and Krieger regarding a collectively composed song, the Doors released their fourth studio album Soft Parade. It was their first album ever to include separate writing credits.
After the release of their 6th and final studio album, L.A. Woman, Morrison and his girlfriend Pamela Courson went to Paris for some time away. Densmore recall his last time speaking to Morrison as receiving an enthusiastic phone call from his bandmate, who was calling from France to inquire about the reception of L.A. Woman. Upon learning how positively fans were reacting to their latest record, Morrison pitched the idea of starting work on a seventh album when he came home from Paris. Tragically, he never did. On July 3rd, 1971, Morrison was found dead in his apartment in Paris, the official cause of his death being heart failure due to a drug overdose. When asked whether or not they would have made that seventh album had Morrison survived, Densmore replied “I do. I think we would have made another twelve.”
Ensuing Morrison’s death, the remaining three Doors went on to make two more albums Other Voices and Full Circle, before disbanding in 1973. Densmore and Krieger then formed a reggae-influenced band called Butts Band, which lasted two years. “Jim had this incredible baritone voice. Really hard to duplicate,” said Densmore sadly. “everything was downhill after.”
Densmore took a break from music in the late 70s and 80s to pursue acting. He scored parts in such movies as Dudes, Get Crazy, and even played a small role in the biopic film The Doors. After several other movies, tv episodes, and a few plays, Densmore came to the eventual realization that his calling wasn’t acting. “I realized I’d rather write the words I was saying,” he said. “There are similarities between writing and music. The length of a sentence is kind of a musical question.” Thus began his next adventure.
With drumming and acting in his rearview mirror for the time being he embarked upon a journey into the field or writing. In 1990, his first book Riders on the storm, a memoir about his experience in the Doors, was published by Delacorte Press and soon after went on to become a best seller. Densmore said of his writing abilities “I realized I had another avenue of creativity, and this pleased me a lot.”
He found inspiration for his second memoir in a dark place when Krieger and Manzarek started a new band called the Doors of the 21st century in 2002. Densmore asked them to change the name, declaring it could never be the Doors without Morrison, but his protests were unsuccessful. Feeling the need to protect his former lead-singer and friend’s legacy, Densmore, with the help and support of Morrison’s family, took the feud to court. After Densmore and the Morrison estate won the case in 2005, Densmore recorded the details in his second book the doors: Unhinged, which was published in 2013 by Percussive Press. Even after the resolution of legal matters, tension remained in the air between Densmore and his former bandmates for years to come. Luckily, Doors fans will be glad to know that Densmore and Manzarek did reconcile before Manzarek’s death in 2013. Densmore recalls “I heard he was getting really sick. I called him and fortunately, he picked the phone up and we just talked. I didn’t know it was the last phone call, but to have that closure was really a blessing.”
Manzarek’s passing created an opportunity for Krieger and Densmore to reconcile at a small Doors reunion concert. In 2013, Krieger and Densmore put aside their differencs to bring the Doors’ music to life one more time at the screening of Mr. Mojo Risin’- a documentary about the making of L.A. Woman. “We hadn’t played in fifteen years,” Densmore recalled. Regardless, he said they connected musically as though no time had passed. “And we will again!”
Densmore reminisced about playing with Manzarek back in the early sixties. “We created magic in his garage- that’s bigger than all of us.”
The hatchets of the past have been buried. As for the future, Densmore says we can anticipate a new book from him. “It’s about musicians that I spent a few minutes or years with, that I respect or got something from,” he said. “It’s kind of about sound. Music is a healing vehicle. When you hear music, it’s in your ear. You look at a painting and you watch a movie, but music is brain to brain!” The book will feature such musicians as Ravi SHankar, Carlos Santana, George Harrison, and Gustavo Dudamel.
Over the past fifty years the Doors have existed, they’ve sold over one hundred million records worldwide, and all but one of their albums have reached platinum or higher. “Maybe we help each generation cut the umbilical chord,” commented Densmore on their lasting relevance. And the Doors will continue to be there for generations to come…until the music ends.