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Jim
Ever since I nearly choked to death on my own vomit (what a rock 'n' roll way to go) I've been sleeping semi-upright on a hill of pillows. It seems to be working.
But because this leaves my upper body exposed I've taken to wearing a tee shirt. The tee shirt I had on last night was a gift from Joe. It has a picture of Jim Morrison stripped to the waist, looking edibly gorgeous with the legend An American Poet above his head.
Well, I couldn't wear it on the street, now could I? People might think I meant it.
I have a history with the Doors. Graham Leader- who is now a film producer and lives (I think) in New York- introduced me to them. We were a couple of rich kids having an educational glaze put over us at a university in Switzerland, only we stopped going to classes and instead we'd hang out in his bedroom and listen to his miniscule record collection: Dylan, the Doors, Miles Davis, Miles Davis, the Doors, Dylan. In Paris there was a revolution in full swing and we were going to join in and do our bit just as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
For a long time the Doors were my idea of rebel music. When I was courting Ailz I used to play them very loud in the car. "Father, I want to kill you. Mother I want to......" Ailz was fond of me so she never said- until long afterwards- how sad that was. Joe remembers those days.
Unfortunately by the time he came to give me the shirt I was no longer a fan, having finally (at the age of 47 or thereabouts) acquired a sense of humour. He wasn't to know this; parents are, after all, incapable of personal development.
I'm not saying the Doors are rubbish. That swirly, haunted carousel sound they make is lovely. It's just Morrison- the poete maudit stuff, the attitudinising, the absence of irony. Poor little sod, he took himself so seriously.
But because this leaves my upper body exposed I've taken to wearing a tee shirt. The tee shirt I had on last night was a gift from Joe. It has a picture of Jim Morrison stripped to the waist, looking edibly gorgeous with the legend An American Poet above his head.
Well, I couldn't wear it on the street, now could I? People might think I meant it.
I have a history with the Doors. Graham Leader- who is now a film producer and lives (I think) in New York- introduced me to them. We were a couple of rich kids having an educational glaze put over us at a university in Switzerland, only we stopped going to classes and instead we'd hang out in his bedroom and listen to his miniscule record collection: Dylan, the Doors, Miles Davis, Miles Davis, the Doors, Dylan. In Paris there was a revolution in full swing and we were going to join in and do our bit just as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
For a long time the Doors were my idea of rebel music. When I was courting Ailz I used to play them very loud in the car. "Father, I want to kill you. Mother I want to......" Ailz was fond of me so she never said- until long afterwards- how sad that was. Joe remembers those days.
Unfortunately by the time he came to give me the shirt I was no longer a fan, having finally (at the age of 47 or thereabouts) acquired a sense of humour. He wasn't to know this; parents are, after all, incapable of personal development.
I'm not saying the Doors are rubbish. That swirly, haunted carousel sound they make is lovely. It's just Morrison- the poete maudit stuff, the attitudinising, the absence of irony. Poor little sod, he took himself so seriously.
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There are bands I like more than I like the Doors, but my favourite song of all time is 'Riders On The Storm'. Objectively, it's pretentious twaddle. Subjectively, the hairs down my spine stand on end every time I hear that intro.
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But in his younger days, before he got bloated, he certainly was 'edibly gorgeous', just as you say.
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I read that biography too. It's odd, there are some people - Peter Sellers, for instance- whom I can forgive anything. Morrison isn't one of them.
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I feel much teh same way as you about him. Don't get me started on bloody Led Zeppelin. Often as a teenager I'd find myself in the arms with a self-consciously 'intellectual' boy and think 'Why can't we just shag? Why do I have to listen to your awful record collection first?' Ailz has my sympathies:-)
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I never got into Led Zeppelin- just as well probably.
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Most rock bands in those days took themselves too seriously. I used to ponder the meaning of Genesis lyrics... but at least Zep, the Doors, Genesis etc. were consummate musicians.
The song I remember going "wow" to (and without the help of illicit substances) was Cat Stevens' "My Lady de Banneville" played very loud, in a very dark brown room, with a bunch of friends, drinking very black coffee.
Dazed and Confused by Zep has horrible, horrible snog memories for me. As does "Nights in White Satin". eeewwww
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She has had well-publicized relationships with singer Cat Stevens (ca. 1968-1970) and actor Don Johnson (ca. 1981-1986), with whom she has a son, Jesse Wayne Johnson (born on December 7, 1982).
because my head is FULL of that kind of trivia, there's no room for 'real' stuff.
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By and large the sixties bands weren't as pretentious as those that came along in the seventies. Morrison and the Doors were forerunners.
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Can't argue with you about Morrison, though. Sadly, his most devoted fans seem determined to maintain the pose.
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Terrifying, isn't it? have you tried drinking a mug of hot (as hot as you can take it) water about an hour before bed? I found it helped - but it might depend how good your water is
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