Geskiedenis Podcasts

John Densmore

John Densmore

John Densmore is gebore op 25 November 1877. Hy het 'n advokaat geword en William Bauchop Wilson, Amerika se eerste minister van arbeid, het hom aangestel as direkteur van algemene indiensneming.

Op 22 Julie 1916 organiseer werkgewers in San Francisco 'n optog deur die strate ten gunste van 'n verbetering van die nasionale verdediging. Tydens die optog het 'n bom in Steuartstraat afgegaan en ses mense is dood (vier sterf later). Twee getuies beskryf twee mans met donker vel, waarskynlik Mexikane, wat 'n swaar tas dra naby die plek waar die bom ontplof het.

Die polisie het hierdie inligting geïgnoreer en twee vakbondleiers, Tom Mooney en Warren Billings, van die misdaad aangekla. Die twee mans is skuldig bevind en Mooney is ter dood veroordeel en Billings is lewenslank gevonnis.

Die Amerikaanse regering het ook besorg geraak oor die Mooney- en Billings -saak en die minister van arbeid, William Bauchop Wilson, het Densmore afgevaardig om die saak te ondersoek. Deur in die geheim 'n diktafoon in die privaat kantoor van die distriksprokureur te installeer, kon hy ontdek dat Mooney en Billings waarskynlik deur Charles Fickert geraam is. Die verslag is uitgelek aan Fremont Older wat dit in die San Francisco oproep op 23 November 1917.

Gewapen met die inligting uit Densmore se verslag, het president Woodrow Wilson 'n beroep op William Stephens, die goewerneur van Kalifornië, gedoen om weer na die saak te kyk. Twee weke voordat Mooney sou hang, het Stephens sy vonnis tot lewenslange gevangenisstraf in San Quentin verander.

John Densmore is op 29 Julie 1937 oorlede.

As 'n mens die getuienis lees en die manier waarop die sake uitgevoer is, bestudeer, is dit geneig om oor baie dinge te wonder - oor die klaarblyklike versuim van die distriksprokureur om 'n werklike ondersoek op die toneel van die misdaad te doen; op die maklike aanpasbaarheid van sommige van die stergetuies; op die onreëlmatige metodes wat die vervolging volg om die verskillende beskuldigdes te identifiseer; oor die jammer tipe mans en vroue wat na vore gebring is om noodsaaklike feitelike sake te bewys in 'n saak van die grootste belang; by die oënskynlike ondoeltreffendheid van selfs 'n gevestigde alibi; by die sangfroid waarmee die vervolging soms 'n onhoudbare teorie weggegooi het om 'n ander nie so belaglik aan te neem nie; by die weiering van die staatsaanklaer om as getuies mense te roep wat werklik die bom sien val het; kortom, oor die algemene flouheid en onwaarskynlikheid van die getuienis, tesame met 'n totale afwesigheid van enigiets wat na 'n werklike poging lyk om by die feite in die saak uit te kom.

Hierdie dinge, terwyl 'n mens die volledige verslag lees en bestudeer, word bereken om selfs by die mees blase 'n besliste geestelike opstand te veroorsaak. Die waarheid is dat daar niks in die sake is om 'n gevoel van vertroue te veroorsaak dat die waardigheid en majesteit van die wet gehandhaaf is nie. Daar is nêrens iets wat selfs op 'n konsekwente wyse lyk nie, die effek is lapwerk, onopvallende tydelike, lomp en dikwels wanhopige nut.

Dit is nie die doel van hierdie verslag om 'n gedetailleerde ontleding te doen van die getuienis wat in hierdie gevalle aangebied word nie - getuienis wat u in die algemeen alreeds reeds ken in u hoedanigheid as president, ex officio, van die Bemiddelingskommissie . Dit sal genoeg wees om u daaraan te herinner dat Billings eers verhoor is; dat hy in September 1916 skuldig bevind is, hoofsaaklik as gevolg van die getuienis van Estelle Smith, John McDonald, Mellie en Sadie Edeau en Louis Rominger, wat almal lankal deeglik gediskrediteer is; dat toe Mooney in Januarie van die daaropvolgende jaar teregstaan, die aanklaer om duidelike redes besluit het om Rominger of Estelle Smith nie te gebruik nie, maar om 'n sekere Frank C. Oxman, wie se getuienis, getuig , wat die getuienis van die twee Edeau -vroue bevestig, die sterkste skakel in die bewysketting teen die verweerder gevorm het; dat Mooney op grond van hierdie getuienis skuldig bevind is; dat hy op 24 Februarie 1917 ter dood veroordeel is; en dat dit later in April van dieselfde jaar ongetwyfeld bewys is dat Oxman, die stergetuie van die vervolging, probeer het om meineed te ondergaan en sodoende sy eie geloofwaardigheid vernietig het.

Die blootstelling aan Oxman se onnoselheid, net soos die kantoor van die distriksprokureur, het aanvanklik belowe dat Mooney 'n nuwe verhoor sal kry. Die distriksprokureur self, mnr Charles M. Fickert, het in die teenwoordigheid van betroubare getuies erken dat hy tot 'n nuwe verhoor sou instem. Sy hoofassistent, mnr. Edward A. Cunha, het 'n virtuele bekentenis van skuldige kennis van die feite oor Oxman afgelê en beloof om, in 'n gees van berou, toe te sien dat geregtigheid moet geskied aan die man wat deur Oxman se getuienis skuldig bevind is. . Die verhoorregter, Franklin A. Griffin, een van die eerstes wat die verskriklike betekenis van die blootstelling erken het, en baie jaloers op sy eie eer, het geen tyd verloor om amptelik die geskiktheid van 'n nuwe verhoor voor te stel nie. Die prokureur -generaal van die staat, eerw. Ulysses S. Webb, het soortgelyke optrede versoek in 'n versoek wat by die Hooggeregshof van Kalifornië ingedien is.

Sake was dus op 'n billike manier reggestel, toe twee dinge gebeur het wat die hoop van die verdediging ontstel het. Die eerste was 'n skielike frontwisseling van Fickert, wat nou ontken het dat hy ooit tot 'n nuwe verhoor ingestem het, en wie se pogings voortaan gewy is aan 'n lomp poging om Oxman af te was en sy eie motiewe en optrede regdeur te regverdig. Die tweede was 'n beslissing van die Hooggeregshof dat dit nie buite die rekord van die saak kon gaan nie - met ander woorde, die vonnis kon nie net ter syde gestel word nie, bloot omdat dit berus op meineedelike getuienis.

Daar is uitstekende gronde om te glo dat Fickert se skielike gesindheidsverandering veroorsaak is deur afgevaardigdes van sommige van die plaaslike belange wat die meeste teen vakbondarbeid gekant is. Die verweerders van Mooney het dit met groot aannemelikheid aangekla dat Fickert die skepsel en die hulpmiddel van hierdie magtige belange was, waaronder die Kamer van Koophandel en die belangrikste staatsdiensverskaffers van die stad San Francisco. In hierdie verband is dit van uiterste belang dat Fickert die grootste deel van die ondersoekwerk wat in hierdie gevalle nodig was, moes toevertrou het aan Martin Swanson, 'n korporatiewe speurder, wat 'n tydjie voor die bomontploffing tevergeefs probeer het om hierdie beskuldigdes met ander geweldsmisdade.

Sedert die blootstelling aan Oxman het die saak van die distriksprokureur geleidelik weggesmelt totdat daar min oor is, behalwe 'n onsmaaklike rekord van manipulasie en meineed, en verdere onthullings het die geloofwaardigheid van feitlik al die belangrikste getuies vir die vervolging in die wiele gery. En as daar nog 'n verdere bevestiging nodig was van die inherente swakheid van die sake teen hierdie oortreders, sou die vryspraak van mev. Mooney op 26 Julie 1917 en Israel Weinberg op 27 van die volgende Oktober dit blyk te wees.

Hierdie vryspraak is opgevolg deur die ondersoek van die Bemiddelingskommissie en sy verslag aan die President op datum van 16 Januarie 1918. Die verslag van die Kommissie, terwyl dit die kwessie van die skuld of onskuld van die beskuldigde geheel en al verontagsaam het, vind in die omstandighede egter voldoende gronde vir onrustigheid en twyfel of die twee mans wat skuldig bevind is, regverdige en onpartydige verhore ontvang het.

Gewoonlik sou die meedoënlose vervolging van vier of vyf beskuldigdes, alhoewel dit 'n onverdiende straf vir hulle almal tot gevolg gehad het, net 'n plaaslike effek hê, wat gou uitgewis en vergeet sou word. Maar in die Mooney -saak, wat niks anders is as 'n fase van die ou oorlog tussen kapitaal en georganiseerde arbeid nie, sou 'n miskraam van regspleging die passies van arbeiders oral laat opvlam en bydra tot 'n oortuiging, wat reeds te wydverspreid is, dat werkers geen geregtigheid kan verwag nie van 'n ordelike beroep na die gevestigde howe.

Tog is hierdie regsmis vinnig besig om te volbring. Een man is op die punt om gehang te word; 'n ander is lewenslank in die tronk; die oorblywende beskuldigdes is steeds in gevaar van hul vryheid of lewens, waarvan die een of die ander sekerlik sal verloor as daar nie 'n tjek op die aktiwiteite van hierdie wonderlikste distriksadvokate gegee word nie.

Sal u 'n voorstel van my toelaat in hierdie moeilike tye wat miskien regverdig wat ek in ander omstandighede kwalik regverdigbaar sou voel?

Die voorstel is die volgende: sou dit nie moontlik wees om die uitvoering van die vonnis van Mooney uit te stel totdat hy op een van die ander aanklagte teen hom verhoor kan word nie, ten einde die belangrike veranderinge wat ek verstaan, ten volle te oorweeg? in die getuienis teen hom plaasgevind het?

Ek spoor dit inderdaad baie eerbiedig, maar baie ernstig aan, want die saak het internasionale belang aanvaar en ek kan die voorstel doen, want ek is seker dat u so angstig is soos enige iemand om geen twyfel of kritiek van enige aard te hê nie self tot die saak.

Ek smeek dat u sal glo dat ek slegs geraak word deur 'n gevoel van openbare plig en 'n bewussyn van die vele en ingewikkelde belange wat daarby betrokke is, wanneer ek weer met respek moet voorstel dat die doodsvonnis wat Mooney opgelê is, moet verander. Ek sou dit nie weer waag om u aandag op hierdie saak te vestig nie, as ek nie die internasionale betekenis daarvan ken nie.


Die ontsteld geskiedenis van Jim Morrison

Elke keer as die bespreking na die grootste rocksterre van alle tye gaan, is die kans goed dat iemand Jim Morrison kort voor lank sal noem. Met sy mooi voorkoms, donker charisma, aanloklike stem en poëtiese aard, is die frontman van Doors die kenmerkende rock -sanger, en hy het beslis die rol aangeneem. Van sy vroeë dae as 'n ster in wording tot sy wilde partytjie -manewales en die uiteindelike, ontydige afsterwe, het Jim Morrison onbeskaamd tot die einde van die rock 'n 'roll -leefstyl geleef.

Ongelukkig was dit nie noodwendig 'n goeie ding nie. Soos in die einde, was die 'einde' glad nie ver weg nie, aangesien Jim Morrison by die berugte 27 Club aangesluit het omdat hy so heeltemal soos 'n rockster geleef het. Alhoewel daar min twyfel is dat "Mr. Mojo Risin '" 'n ongelooflike talentvolle kunstenaar was wie se nalatenskap as 'n rocklegende ryklik verdien is, het hy ook 'n ingewikkelde en dikwels tragiese lewe gelei, vol ongelukke, waarvan baie heeltemal syne was eie maak. Wat het die Lizard King presies laat tik? Watter hindernisse het die lewe in die pad gesteek? Vandag kyk ons ​​na die onrustige geskiedenis van Jim Morrison.


Densmore -geskiedenis, familiewapen en -wapens

Die Piktiese stamme van antieke Skotland was die voorouers van die eerste mense wat die naam Densmore gebruik het. Dit kom van die lande Dundemore in Fife, waar die familie 'n lang en besondere geskiedenis het wat uit die vroeë Middeleeue dateer. Die naam beteken letterlik die versterkte heuwel en baie ou vestings in Skotland word so genoem. [1]

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Vroeë oorsprong van die Densmore -familie

Die van Densmore is die eerste keer gevind in Fife, in die gebiede van Dundemore, naby Lindores. Een van die eerste rekords van die naam was Henry de Dundemore wat getuie was van 'n bevestigingshandves deur John, graaf van Huntigdoun van grond in Kynalchmund aan die Abdij van Arboirath c. 1219 en later 'n ander handves deur dieselfde graaf aanskou wat lande van Lundors aan die monnike van Lindores verleen (c.1232-1237.) [2]

In 1296 noem die Ragman Rolls Patrik de Dundemor en William de Dundemor as grondeienaars in Fife.

Verder na die suide in Engeland, is Dinmore 'n buiten-parochiale vryheid, in die honderd van Grimsworth in Herefordshire. Hier was & quoton Dinmore Hill 'n bevelvoerder van die Knights of St. John van Jerusalem, gestig deur 'n broer van die orde, in die bewind van Henry II. & Quot [3]

Hoop onder Dinmore word gevind in Herefordshire en Worcestershire. Oorspronklik opgeteken as Hoop in die Domesday Book van 1086 [4], het dit in Latyn geword, Hope sub Dinnemor in 1291. & quotDinmore is moontlik 'n Walliese naam 'din mauer', wat 'groot fort' beteken, of alternatiewelik 'moeras van 'n man genaamd' Dynna, 'uit die ou Engelse persoonlike naam + & quotmor. & Quot [5]

Dinmore Manor House is 'n groot plattelandse huis wat dateer uit 1189 toe dit vermoedelik deur Knights Templar gebou is.


The Doors ’ John Densmore oor sy nuwe boek oor musikale helde

In sy post-Doors-lewe is drummer John Densmore net soveel, indien nie meer nie, 'n skrywer as 'n musikant. Die skrywer van twee topverkopende boeke, Ruiters op die storm en Die deure losgemaak , het hy begin werk aan sy nuutste versameling, The Seekers: Vergaderings met merkwaardige musikante (en ander kunstenaars) , etlike jare gelede.

Geïnspireer deur die George Gurdjieff -boek Vergaderings met merkwaardige mans , Densmore se nuutste werk, op 17 November, fokus op die mentors en musikante wat hy volgens hom oor die jare heen gegee het. Elke hoofstuk beklemtoon 'n ander musikale ikoon, waarin hy verhale weerspieël oor sy verhoudings met die bandmaats Jim Morrison en Ray Manzarek, saam met Bob Marley, Patti Smith, Lou Reed, Paul Simon, Janis Joplin en vele meer.

Die versameling is 'n vreugdevolle geskiedenisles vir musieknerdes: Densmore is ewe openhartig, soos om 'n ongelukkige ervaring met Van Morrison te bespreek, en geselsies en ontmoetings met Willie Nelson.

SPIN het met Densmore oor die boek gepraat, sy verhouding met die ander Doors -lede herondersoek en ontelbare kere daar vir musiekgeskiedenis.

SPIN: Ek hou daarvan dat jy by jou ma begin, dan musiekonderwysers. Het u dit chronologies geskryf of in orde gebring, soos om 'n rekord op te volg?
John Densmore: Ek het dit individueel geskryf en dan in orde gebring. Ek het gedink: 'Ek sal by my ma begin, want sy ondersteun my dromme en my klavierspel en moedig my aan. Sodat ek 'n goeie plek is om te begin. Dan dink ek dat ek in die Elvin Joes -hoofstuk begin praat oor tromspelers en almal - die eerste tromslag wat ons ooit hoor, is in die baarmoeder, ons ma ’s hartklop. En toe dink ek, “ Wel, natuurlik het jy by jou ma begin omdat jy uit haar baarmoeder gekom het [Lagt].”

Sien u 'n verenigende tema by die kunstenaars wat u gekies het?
Ek het 'n paar hoofstukke geskryf oor 'n paar van hierdie ikone wat my gevoed het. Toe begin ek dink, laat ons probeer om dit chronologies te maak. Ek het gesukkel met wat al hierdie mense verenig. En ek het die liefde vir klank bereik - soos skilders die wêreld sien, hoor musikante dit. Daarom is hulle almal verbind. As u na Bob Marley kyk en na Gustavo Dudamel, die dirigent van die L.A. [Philharmonic] kyk, is hulle verbind - wat u sien, is dat hul hele liggaam die geluid uitstraal, want hulle is so weg en so in.

Hoe het jy besluit oor die kunstenaars wat jy ingesluit het?
My intuïsie het my vertel van die grotes, dié wat my die meeste beïnvloed het. Elvin Jones was my afgod, en hy voed my steeds, so hy moet natuurlik daarin wees. En toe was Ravi Shankar vir my baie belangrik, en ek het saam met hom gestudeer, so hy moet daar wees. 'N Rukkie later dink ek:' Wag 'n bietjie, Jerry Lee Lewis. '' Ons was baie trots om te help om 'n begin te maak - 'n terugblik op die rockers, niemand het dit voorheen gedoen nie. Die Stones het BB King op toer gekry - dit was baie gaaf. En baie vroeg het hulle Howlin ’ Wolf op 'n TV -program of iets gekry. Maar terwyl u lees, het ons probeer om Johnny Cash te kry en hulle het gesê dat hy 'n misdadiger was. “OK, jy wag net 'n jaar of wat. Hy gaan 'n reuse-Amerikaanse ikoon word, julle rukke. Ek help graag om die musiekliefhebbers te verstaan ​​dat ons almal op die skouers van vorige generasies musiekmakers is.

Dit was ook interessant dat u gekies het om die Van Morrison -hoofstuk op te neem nadat u die negatiewe ervaring by die Hollywood Bowl beleef het.
Ek hoor nog steeds, soos ek gesê het, “Into The Mystic ” en ek gaan, “ Ag my god. ” Diegene in die biz ken sy persoonlikheid. Ek het gesê wat ek te sê het, want ek was geïrriteerd en ek bewonder ook sy talent. Jim kan 'n gat wees - dit is beslis.

En u spreek dit aan in die Paul Simon -hoofstuk, waar u praat oor Paul wat onthou dat Jim onbeskof was vir hom op die Forest Hills -vertoning.
Dit was 50 jaar later, en ek kon nie glo dat Paulus dit onthou nie. Dit het hom aangegryp omdat hy 'n jong band wou help, ons aanmoedig om goed te doen en vir hulle oop te maak. En om te sien hoe die hoofsanger, nadat hy deur hom ontslaan is, hierdie reuse -ikoon word, ek is seker hy krap sy kop vir die 50 jaar, gaan, en wat is dit? ” En dit voel soort genesing om dit te bespreek. Dit was nogal insiggewend, ons twee het agtergekom dat [Morrison] miskien senuweeagtig was soos Trump, wat verdedigend raak as hy senuweeagtig is en verdubbel as 'n gat.

Het die skryf van hierdie verhoudings, soos Jim en Ray, u 'n nuwe perspektief gegee?
Ag, man, ek mis Ray, musikaal meer as ooit. Dit het my regtig getref hoe god, hy is 'n baskitaarspeler en 'n musikant wat reëls speel wat vir ewig op ons voorhoofde ingeëts word, want hulle is so melodieus en pakkend, soos die intro van Bach “Circle Of Fifths ” in “Light My Fire. ” Ray het selfs gesê: “ Ons bewonder Herbie Hancock, maar ons is nie so vaardig soos hierdie ouens nie. ” Maar hulle voed ons omdat ons hulle bewonder. Maar Ray se unieke lyne wat hy geskryf het - dit is die geskenk. Daar sou duidelik geen deure sonder Ray wees nie.

Ek hou ook van hoe jy persoonlike staaltjies verweef, soos om met Ray op te maak.
Die perspektief is soortgelyk aan wat ek gisteraand gesien het toe ek die Beatles se aanvaardingstoespraak vir die Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame op YouTube gesaai het. George [Harrison] het gesê: "Ek wens John [Lennon] was hier. Ek weet dat hy hier sou wees, en ons is lief vir John. ” Hulle stryd, John en George, was nie so swaar soos ek wat 'n regsgeding teen Ray en Robby [Krieger] gehad het nie. Maar as u een van die Fab Four is, of een van die fantastiese deure, dan het u deur hierdie orkaan gegaan, en slegs die vier het dit geleef en voel regtig die kameraadskap wat niemand anders kan nie. Selfs met al die beproewinge en beproewings, wow, daar is 'n diep, diep band. Ek was drie keer getroud, en ek gaan weer trou, maar jammer, my verhouding met die Deure is duidelik die langste van my hele lewe en die diepste. Ek het Charlie Rose gedoen vir my laaste boek, en ek onthou 'n aanhaling wat hy baie goed gehou het. Ek het gesê om in 'n rockgroep te wees, is poligamie sonder die seks. So jy is getroud.

Is dit vir u moeilik om na soveel jare weer u verhouding met Jim te besoek?
As dit almal ouens is, is 'n band beslis 'n groep broers. Dit is jou broer. Dit was wedywering tussen broers en susters, dus toe Jim die eerste keer verby was, was ek hartseer, maar dit het my 'n paar jaar geneem om diep te rou omdat ek kwaad was vir hom. Ek kon nie aanvaar dat kreatiwiteit en selfvernietiging saam met hom in dieselfde pakket kom nie. Dit hoef nie noodwendig met 'n kunstenaar te gebeur nie. En nou hoor ek nog 'n onduidelike lyn - gisteraand het ek gedink aan Land Ho! Want iets van die vloot en ek het aan Jim en sy pa gedink. En ek tel nog steeds dinge op, en die liefde is dieper. Ek word 'n bietjie metafisies in hierdie boek en sê ek het nou baie gesprekke met Ray en Jim. Wel, hoekom nie? Ek hou van die [George] Harrison -reël oor hoe hy 'n diep verhouding met John het - en as jy dit nie kan hê nie, hoe gaan jy dit dan met Jesus of met wie jy ook al in die hemel sien?

U noem kuns en selfvernietiging, maar dan praat u hier met ouens soos Willie Nelson en Paul Simon wat nog steeds floreer in hul 70's en 80's. Hoe inspireer dit jou?
Ja, Paul Simon en Willie Nelson is mentors vir my op die gebied van veroudering, want Jim het 27 geword en ek in 'n maand 8217 m 76. Daar's 'n Jim ’s pad, en daar is my pad, wat minder selfvernietigend is as voorbeeld vir jongmense, waarvan ek hou. Maar ek word ook gevoed deur hoe Willie en Paul dit doen. Hulle is nog steeds ongelooflik kreatief en lewendig. Hulle is nie in 'n rushuis nie. Dit is 'n ware aanvang, en miskien is dit die sleutel tot hul lang lewe en lewenskragtigheid: verloof wees.

Een van die lekker dinge wat ek dink uit die boek kan kom, is dat daar geen regte pad is nie. U noem dat u verbaas was toe Patti Smith na die Midde -Weste verhuis het, maar dit toe heldhaftig gevind het. En nou is sy meer lewendig en relevant as ooit.
Wat 'n mentor vir my as skrywer. My god, dit is een ding dat sy hierdie ongelooflike bydrae gelewer het om die hele punkbeweging regtig te laat begin. Dan kry sy die National Book Award vir skryf [ Net kinders ] - wat de fok? Sjoe. So miskien kanaliseer sy die energie, wat dit ook al is wat haar laat musiek doen of skryf. Of die energie wat deur Willie of Paul Simon kom, sy kanaliseer dit net. En sy kan amper alles doen as jy daarop tik sonder ego.

Toe u die eerste keer vir Bob Marley sien, het u geweet dat hy dadelik so spesiaal was?
Ja, ek was regtig geseënd met die een. Toe ek hulle tweede-rekening aan Cheech & Chong by die Roxy sien-o, my god. Dit was kultuurskok. Ek het net geweet: "Dit kom." Ek en Robby was voorheen in Jamaika. Ek was so geseënd om aan die voorkant van al hierdie dinge te wees, soos reggae en Marley. Ek ontmoet Gustavo Dudamel as hy gas optree en weet dat daar iets kom. Ek ontmoet Jim en weet dat hy iets het. Jy sien Chasing Trane: The John Coltrane Documentary ? Ek is daar, en ek het die gevoel: ek is 'n tiener, en ek weet nie dat Coltrane 'n reuse -ikoon gaan wees nie, maar ek weet daar is iets hier. Ek het die inkubasietydperk van al hierdie dinge, Coltrane en reggae en klassieke musiek by die L.A. Phil. Ek is so gelukkig dat ek die inkubasietydperk van al hierdie verskillende kragtige musikale bewegings aanskou.

Is dit egter geluk of is dit oop vir hulle?
Oop en geïnteresseerd - en miskien klink dit 'n bietjie [egoïsties] maar [intuïtief]. Ek vertrou my intuïsie, en ek het 'n redelik goeie intuïtiewe gevoel om kreatiewe bewegings uit te snuffel.

Maar u is ook eerlik oor die teenoorgestelde, soos om toe te gee dat u Lou Reed eers nie gekry het nie.
Ja, ja, selfs Patti het ek aanvanklik nie verstaan ​​nie. Daar is baie paaie na die muur van Jerusalem. Dit is uit 'n gedig.

Was hierdie boek makliker as gevolg van die onderwerp?
O, dit is 'n baie goeie, goeie manier om dit af te handel. Die eerste twee boeke wat ek geskryf het, is in bloed geskryf. Hierdie een is in liefde geskryf. 'N Liefdevolle punt van die hoed.


The Doors ’ John Densmore op die tyd wat Van Morrison hom op die verhoog laat hang het

Die aand is The Doors afgedank tydens ons eerste klubkonsert, Ronnie Harran, die boeker vir die beroemde Whiskey a Go Go, het ons gesien en ons die "house band" slot in die straat aangebied. Die London Fog Club het ons nie gestort nie omdat Jim die nag in 'n mis was (wat hy soms was), maar omdat daar 'n geveg ontstaan ​​het en hulle die band die skuld gegee het. Ronnie het gelukkig goeie ore gehad en het geweet ons is op pad êrens heen. Sy het ook saam met die aantreklike voorsanger na haar boudoir gegaan, maar dit is 'n ander storie.

Die eerste stel by die Whiskey was om 21:00, toe niemand in die klub was nie. Die hooflys kom daarna, toe doen ons ons tweede stel, en uiteindelik sluit die kopstuk die aand.

Ons was baie senuweeagtig die eerste paar weke. Die gevolg was 'n aaklige resensie van Pete Johnson van die LA Times. Dit was so aaklig dat, soos ek vir die res van die groep gesê het, dit miskien 'n goeie negatiewe PR was, aangesien dit ons na iets interessants laat klink het. Nadat ons ons voete natgemaak het, spring ons vol gas en probeer om elkeen van die bekende optredes met die groot rekening van die verhoog af te blaas. The Rascals, Paul Butterfield, The Turtles, The Seeds, Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, The Animals, The Beau Brummels, Buffalo Springfield, Captain Beefheart - almal moes met ons te doen kry. Ek bedoel, natuurlik het ons al hierdie kreatiewe musikante liefgehad en bewonder, maar ons was ook 'n krag om by ons self te reken.

Ons het 'n volgende freaks ontwikkel wat van vryvormdans gehou het en elke aand vir ons eerste stel sou opdaag. Die groot eienaar-promotor Elmer Valentine het slim die go-go-danshokke afgeneem en die nuwe beweging van 'hippies' gevorm. Dit was nou ons grasveld. Nadat ons 'n paar van ons liedjies klaargemaak het, het stilte die kamer gevul in plaas van applous.

Die meeste mense is bang vir stilte. Ons was nie. Die astrofisikus [Neil deGrasse] Tyson sê dat "donker materie" - die ruimtes tussen die sterre en die planete - net so belangrik is as materie, en miskien selfs belangriker. Net so is dit die ruimte wat die musikant tussen die note maak wat musiek die menslike element gee. Toe trommelmasjiene baie jare gelede die eerste keer uitgevind is, het hulle 'n 'menslike' knoppie gehad, wat die masjien as dit ingedruk word, versnel of vertraag. Ek vermoed dat menslike foute 'n goeie ding is, of ten minste iets wat deernis ontlok. Iets wat skrikwekkend, maar baie aantreklik vir mense, is in die ruimte van 'donker materie' waar klank deur stilte verswelg word. Volle leegheid. Die leemte. Dit was moeilik vir sommige dade om ons te volg weens die onheilspellende atmosfeer wat ons in die lug gelaat het.

Ons het gehoor dat Elmer Them bespreek het, die Ierse orkes wie se hoofsanger, Van Morrison, "Gloria" en "Mystic Eyes" neergeskryf het en "Baby, Please Don't Go" so oortuigend aangepas het dat dit by sy stem en orkes pas. Ons was in verwondering. Toe die datum nader kom, het die besluit om ons omslagweergawe van "Gloria" uit ons stel te haal, verstandig gelyk. Ons het gedink dat ons van die liedjie redelik goed was, maar dit was nie gaaf om op die tone van die oorspronklike te trap nie.

By die openingsaand vir die "seuns uit Belfast" het The Doors begin met 'n senuweeagtige eerste stel. Tydens pouse het ek my op my gewone plek op die trap na die boonste balkon gesit. My eerste boek, Ruiters op die storm, gee die toon aan:

Hulle het skerp die verhoog ingeneem. Hulle blaai een na die ander deur verskeie liedjies, wat hulle ononderskeibaar maak. Van lyk dronk en baie onrustig, terwyl hy met die mike op die verhoog neerstort. Maar toe hy sy onderkaak en tong laat val en een van die woede skree, laat iets Iers in my my vel met hoendervleis kruip. Antieke angs.

Ek was verward oor hierdie sanger wat soveel talent het terwyl hy so selfbewus was. Ronnie het my, Van en 'n paar ander mense na 'n klein partytjie by haar woonstel om 02:00 gery. Die meeste van ons het gesels, terwyl Van in die hoek gloer. Skielik gryp hy Ronnie se kitaar en blaas in die koor, sing oor 'n vreemdeling in hierdie wêreld en wil met 'n ander gesig in 'n ander tyd geïnkarneer word. Uiteindelik sou hierdie lirieke op die transendentale beland Astrale Weke album. Ruiters vertel wat daarna gebeur het:

Dit was asof Van op 'n partytjievlak nie kon kommunikeer nie, so hy het net in sy liedjies uitgebars. Ons was betower. Dit lyk nie gepas om hom te komplimenteer nie, want sy musiek kom van so 'n diep plek. Toe hy klaar was, was daar 'n minuut of wat stilte. 'N Heilige stilte.

Ek was al in die jare sestig bewus van die stilte tussen die geluide. Destyds het ek nie die belangrikheid van stilte en klank in musiek agtergekom nie. Ek het slegs 'n intuïtiewe begrip daarvan gehad. Toe ons die Ierse seuns in daardie magiese week leer ken het, het The Doors 'Gloria' weer in ons lys geplaas. Die heel laaste aand voor Van en sy bemanning terug is na die Old Sod, speel ons almal saam "Gloria". Twee tromspelers, twee klawerborde, twee van alles. Selfs twee Morrisons. Na ongeveer twintig minute het ons almal 'Gloria' in die bed gesit na 'n heerlike nag.

Van het baie, baie belangrike liedjies neergeskryf. 'Brown Eyed Girl', 'Crazy Love' en 'Moondance', om maar net 'n paar te noem. Met 'Into the Mystic' blyk dit dat hy in 'n meer geestelike rigting gewys word, wat uitloop op die hipnotiese Astrale Weke. Deur jazzmusici te gebruik en nie vooraf te oefen nie, Astrale Weke is 'n impressionistiese bewussynsstroom. Dit bly tot vandag toe 'n kultusgunsteling, ondanks die feit dat dit dekades lank nie 'n beduidende sukses in die algemene verkoop behaal het nie. Na drie en dertig jaar het dit uiteindelik goud behaal in 2001. Ek het dit altyd gesê Astrale Weke is een van my gunsteling albums van alle tye, en die sentiment lyk wyd gedeel, in ag genome hoeveel lyste van 'Grootste albums van alle tye'.

Op 6 November 2008 het ek 'n oproep van 'Van's people' gekry en gevra of ek 'Gloria' saam met hom en sy band by die Hollywood Bowl wil speel. 'The Man' sou 'n paar van sy oues tot onderbreking uitvoer, dan die briljante album Astrale Weke in die tweede helfte. Hel ja! Ek het immers al in 1966 'Gloria' saam met hom, sy orkes en my orkes by die Whiskey gespeel.

Ek was na die middag repetisie vir "Gloria" by die Bowl. Daar was ongeveer vyftien musikante op die verhoog, wat 'n buitengewoon groot groep is. Ek het vermoed dat Van vir die tweede helfte ekstra spelers, snare en dies meer nodig gehad het om die geluid van te herhaal Astrale Weke. Bobby Ruggiero het met sy hand gewaai dat ek op sy trommelstoel gaan sit. Ek het dit gedoen en toe na die duisende leë sitplekke gekyk. Nadat ek hierdie plek twee keer gespeel het, was ek gemaklik om op die trommelhok te sit en opgewonde oor die nag wat voorlê. Ek het elke drom getoets. Dit het maklik gevoel, wat 'n verligting was. Met dromstelle verskil die hoeke van elke speler, en om op u eie kit te speel, voel soos 'n gemaklike handskoen.

Van was nêrens in sig nie, maar hulle wou oefen. Ons spring in die liedjie, en die rugbysangers sing Van se hoofdele. Dit was 'n groef wat hierdie groot orkes skop op 'n deuntjie wat ek baie goed geken het. Ek gooi my eie lekke in, en die musikante draai om en erken my met 'n groot glimlag.

Toe stop hulle en sê: 'Ons kan 'n Bo Diddley -afdeling in die middel doen.'

'Goed,' antwoord ek. 'Ek moet dit voor die tyd weet.'

Ek voel 'n baie swanger pouse, en dan neem die spanning toe tussen die spelers. Niemand het opgestaan ​​om Van oor die reëling te gaan vra nie. Dit was ongemaklik, want as ek nie geweet het hoe hulle daardie afdeling gaan speel nie, kan ek dit fok, en dit sal vir alle betrokkenes 'n verleentheid wees. Ek het horrorverhale oor Van gehoor, soos die keer toe hy op een van sy roadies skreeu omdat hy vir hom die verkeerde wynjaar gebring het, maar ek het 'n lang geskiedenis met die man gehad, so ek wou dit nie afskrik nie.

“Goed, goed! Ek sal hom vra! ” Ek het gesê ek staan ​​op van die trommelstoel. Die musikante kyk my verbaas aan terwyl ek na die kleedkamers gaan. Dit lyk asof hulle eintlik bang was vir hul hoofsanger.

Ek het my oor na een van die kleedkamer se deure gesit en kon Van oor die telefoon hoor. Ek het geklap. Hy het nie gereageer nie. Ek klap harder. Niks nie. Toe slaan ek hard, en hy reageer uiteindelik. “Ja, wat?”

'Van, dit is John Densmore. Are you going to do the Bo Diddley section in the middle of ‘Gloria?’”

“Whatever you want” was his response, as he went back to his conversation.

We finished rehearsing, and I went home. When I came back in the evening with my girlfriend Ildiko, we went backstage, since Van had already started. His manager told me the plan was for “Gloria” to be the encore just before intermission. I would walk out with Van, he would introduce me, and then we’d play the song. Easy enough.

We walked out together on that magnificent stage under the shell at the Hollywood Bowl, but I could tell that Van couldn’t take in the applause he was getting. Something was torturing him. Then he began to torture me, though not on purpose, I think.

Ildiko and I listened to several songs from the side of the stage. They sounded good, although up close, it was clear that Van wasn’t relaxed. Something inside him seemed to be always on pins and needles.

They finished the last song, and Van the Man exited stage right. Later, Ildiko would say that she could feel Van’s nervous energy. I stood beside him as we waited for our cue. He asked about Ray and Robby, which was sweet. I was reminded of that time a few months after he finished the Whisky gig years ago when I saw him in town and he asked, “How’s Jim doing?” Two Morrisons caring about each other.

We walked out together on that magnificent stage under the shell at the Hollywood Bowl, but I could tell that Van couldn’t take in the applause he was getting. Something was torturing him. Then he began to torture me, though not on purpose, I think. In his preoccupied state of mind, he forgot to introduce me. The band was waiting for their cue to start the song, and it didn’t come. The awkward silence needed to be broken, so the guitar player started the opening chords to “Gloria.” After a few bars, the rest of the band had to kick in, so they did.

Leaving me standing there in front of ten thousand people, wondering what to do. Walking off would have been weird. I spotted a tambourine under the backup singers’ riser, so I walked over, picked it up, and started playing it as if that had been part of the plan. Needless to say, I was not happy. At that moment, I didn’t give a shit about how talented Van was. This was humiliating.

No one in the audience knew that anything was wrong, but yours truly felt tremendously awkward as I worked my way over to Bobby, the drummer. We were trying to figure out how to switch—him jumping up and grabbing the tambourine, me grabbing his sticks and sitting down without missing a beat. It couldn’t be done. If we tried it, the beat would definitely drop for a few bars, and Van the Man would have definitely been pulled out of his “flow.” He would have turned around with a big frown on his face, even though he himself had caused the problem. So I just continued to play the tambourine with a fake smile.

At the finish, we all headed for the wings, with the roaring crowd fading as we exited. Van seemed to disappear. His manager came up to me expounding major apologies. No one would dare try to go look for “The Man” to get his take, let alone an apology.

Ildiko gave me a big hug when I met her at our box seats for the second half. Only she and the Doors’ manager, Jeff Jampol, knew what I had been through. After a few songs from one of my favorite albums of all time, Astrale Weke, we left. The performance wasn’t bad, but the vibe, which only Jeff, me, and our two girlfriends knew about, had taken the wind out of our Van Morrison sails.

Since then, I’ve reduced the capital letter “M” to lowercase “m” when I write about him: Van the man. Also, this book is subtitled Meetings with Remarkable Musicians, not Meetings with Remarkable Men, for a reason. Van blew it. I was going to pay him a compliment in front of ten thousand people, but he didn’t remember to introduce me, so he didn’t get that compliment. I was going to say, “It’s a great honor to be playing with a Morrison again.”

It took me a year or so to get over what had happened because, when someone you know behaves badly, it can cloud your appreciation of their work. Anytime one of Van’s songs came on the radio, I had to change the station. Later, admiration for his gifts crept back into my psyche. “Into the Mystic” won me over again. I just can’t resist the spiritually brilliant music The Man has produced.

When Van Morrison sings, “We were born before the wind, / Also younger than the sun,” he is talking about “the flow.” Even with all his phobias, he usually taps into the jet stream of sound circling the planet. Van has described that feeling in interviews: “It’s just plugging in and going with the flow and then sourcing that energy.”

Jay-Z speaks of getting into “the flow” while rapping. It’s the rapper’s choice whether to go fast with an amazing cadence, like Eminem, or wonderfully slow, like Snoop Dogg. It’s how the rap sits on top of the beats, just as it’s a drummer’s choice whether to push the feel or to lay back. Singers make choices through their phrasing, deciding when to start a line and how long to drag it out.

Van, who obviously listened to early R&B, is impeccable when he’s into his flow. Randy Lewis, the esteemed music critic for the LA Times, hit the nail on the head: “Van Morrison strives to reach a special space through music, an ethereal place perhaps best summarized in the title of his 1970 song ‘Into the Mystic.’ ‘Just like way back in the days of old, [and] magnificently we will float into the mystic.’”

Uittreksel uit The Seekers: Meetings With Remarkable Musicians (and Other Artists) copyright © 2020 by John Densmore, reprinted with permission of Hachette Books, an imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc.


The Doors influential drummer John Densmore turns 76 today

John Densmore is one of Rock’s most unique drummers, he has developed a personal technique in which he blends among other styles Jazz, Tribal beats and Rock. With The Doors he became famous and scored several hits during the late 1960’s. We look back at his life and career

Early Life and The Doors

John was born John Paul Densmore on December 1st, 1944 in Los Angeles, California, he learned music from an early age, starting by the piano and later took up drums/percussion for the marching band at his school. He also played timpani in orchestra. Densmore also studied ethnic music under jazz cellist Fred Katz which proved to be a very big influence on his work as a professional musician that lasts to this day. In the mid-1960’s he joined guitarist Robby Krieger in a band called The Psychedelic Rangers shortly thereafter he began rehearsals with keyboardist Ray Manzarek, Manzarek’s two brothers and Jim Morrison in the group Rick & the Ravens. On the brothers’ departure from the band, Densmore recommended Krieger join them, thus forming The Doors in 1965, with Densmore on drums, Jim Morrison on vocals, Ray Manzarek on the keyboards and bass and Robby Krieger on guitar. The band played intensevely on the Sunset Strip circuit in Los Angeles for almost two years. In late 1966, after several rejections from record labels due to their odd sound which was interpreted as lack of commercial potential, they were signed to Elektra by Jac Holtzman, the label’s founder that wasn’t afraid to take chances on new bands with unusual music. Their first album “The Doors” was released in January 1967, along with their debut single “Break On Through (To The Other Side)” which made it only as a local Los Angeles hit. Shortly after, on July 1967, The Doors reached No.1 on the Hot 100 with their Jazz-Rock fusion song “Light My Fire”. The band quickly become worldwide famous with songs such as “People Are Strange”, “Love Me Two Times”, “Hello, I Love You”, “Touch Me” and “Roadhouse Blues” among many others. However, despite the success, Jim Morrison’s wild life style that involved consuming large amounts of drugs and alcohol as well as his on stage antics that made him being arrested on stage in December 1967, and the infamous 1969 Miami concert, where a out of control Morrison shout profanities to the audience and reportedly exposed himself, pushed The Doors successful career to a fast end. John Densmore temporally quit the band in 1968 during the recording sessions of their third album “Waiting For The Sun” due to Morrison’s increasingly self-destructive behavior, although Densmore returned the next day. Densmore repeatedly suggested that the band stop touring, but Krieger and Manzarek were resistant to this notion. After the Doors’ disastrous performance with a gibberish-spouting Morrison in New Orleans on December 12, 1970, the band agreed to stop performing live, and the New Orleans concert would be the band’s last public appearance as a quartet. Morrison died in 1971, though the surviving trio recorded two more albums of songs “Other Voices” in 1971 and “Full Circle” in 1972, the band dissolved in 1973. They would get together again as a band to record music for the posthumous Jim Morrison album and poetry project “An American Prayer” where they played for the late singer’s isolated vocals in 1978.

Solo Career

Densmore formed a band with fellow ex-Doors Robby Krieger in 1973 called Butts Band. The band released two albums with two different lineups but disbanded in 1975. Densmore left rock and roll in the 1980s, moving to the world of dance as he performed with Bess Snyder and Co., touring the United States for two years. During most of the 1980’s he pursued an acting career, one of his film credits includes playing the role of a recording studio engineer on the 1991 Oliver Stone biopic “The Doors” based on the band’s career. Densmore wrote his best-selling autobiography, Riders on the Storm (1990), about his life and the time he spent with Morrison and the Doors. In the first chapter Densmore describes the solemn day on which he and the band finally visited Morrison’s grave around three years after Morrison’s death. After Jim Morrison’s death, Densmore, Manzarek and Krieger, allowed “Riders on the Storm” to be used to sell Pirelli Tyres, but in the United Kingdom only. Densmore later stated that he “heard Jim’s voice” in his ears and ended up donating his share of the money earned to charity. In 2003, Densmore vetoed an offer by Cadillac of $15 million for “Break on Through (To the Other Side)” citing Morrison’s historic and vehement opposition to licensing the Doors’ music, notably their best-selling single “Light My Fire” for a Buick television commercial,as well as Densmore’s own development of strong personal views on the subject. In a subsequent court trial against his former bandmates Ray Manzarek and Robby Krieger for the non-authorized use of The Doors name (Manzarek and Krieger rehashed The Doors by putting up together a successful tour being the only two original band members of the band and named themselves The Doors Of The 21st Century), in which Densmore was joined by the Morrison estate, opposing lawyers attempted to portray Densmore as an eco-terrorist. Notable musicians who testified in support of Densmore included Bonnie Raitt, Randy Newman, Neil Young, Tom Petty, Eddie Vedder and Tom Waits. In 2013 Densmore released “The Doors Unhinged”, a book covering his lengthy but victorious legal battle with Krieger and Manzarek and Densmore’s veto of the Cadillac commercial offer and recently he released another book, “The Seekers: Meetings With Remarkable Musicians (and Other Artists)”. Densmore is politically outspoken and in 2015, he backed the U.S. presidential run of Bernie Sanders. Densmore remains a very active artist in many fields including the already mentioned music, writing, acting but also on movie making and performing arts. John Densmore was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a member of The Doors in 1993, today he turns 76.

Watch John Densmore talking about his drumming technique and studio recording

Watch Densmore drumming with The Doors, “When The Music’s Over”, Live at The Hollywood Bowl,
1968


The Doors defined California cool in the ’60s. How does their legacy stack up 50 years later?

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The Doors — from left, singer Jim Morrison, drummer John Densmore, keyboardist Ray Manzarek and lead guitarist Robby Krieger — pose for a publicity photo in the 1960s. Fifty years ago, the band released its self-titled debut album. (Elektra Records)

LOS ANGELES — The door to the Doors is numbered 420. A quirk of circumstance that feels comically ordained.

Technically, this is the entrance to the Doors Music Co., the licensed legal corporation in a fourth-floor suite of a flavorless glass rectangle in West Hollywood. Should you take 2,000 steps east, you’ll find yourself at the world-famous Whisky a Go Go, the nightclub at which the Doors reigned a half-century ago as they became the sinistral emissaries of sex and death at the center of the Summer of Love.

This air-conditioned shrine is consecrated with artifacts of the past and faint reminders of its perpendicular intersections with the present. Platinum and gold plaques occupy almost every square inch of available wall space. Portrait photos depict the Doors at their Aquarian zenith, shaggy and seditious, without time to wallow in the mire. Jim Morrison, now dead 46 years, leers, taunts and preens from every angle.

In the conference room, Robby Krieger remains very much alive. For much of the past year, the lead guitarist has busied himself with the promotional cycle surrounding the self-proclaimed “Year of the Doors,” commemorating the semicentennial of the quartet’s self-titled debut and follow-up “Strange Days,” released a mere nine months apart in 1967. Festivities included Los Angeles proclaiming a “Day of the Doors,” Krieger throwing out the first pitch at Dodgers Stadium, and the remastered vinyl reissues and re-packagings that have become pro forma around the anniversaries of iconic boomer bands.

It’s been 50 years since the first song Krieger ever wrote, “Light My Fire,” topped the Billboard charts, but he still quietly mourns the loss of Morrison, who was interred at Paris’s Pére Lachaise cemetery a short four years after the band’s career took off.

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Ray Manzarek, right, and Robby Krieger light candles at Jim Morrison’s gravesite at Paris’s Pére Lachaise cemetery in 2011. (Jacques Brinon/AP)

“It’s pretty tough to get away from it because pretty much every day something reminds you of him,” Krieger says, underscoring the sepulchral reality that has shrouded Morrison since 1971.

Krieger, a native of Southern California whose earliest guitar playing was steeped in flamenco, was the band’s youngest member and just 25 when Morrison died. Now 71, grandfatherly and silver-haired, he’s dedicated almost his entire adult life to burnishing the legacy of his youth and attempting to transcend it. He tried first with a pair of Doors albums, without Morrison, before the band finally split up. In the intervening decades, Krieger has released half a dozen records of jazz-rock fusion, several of which included contributions from Doors keyboardist Ray Manzarek, who died in 2013, and drummer John Densmore. He still writes most nights.

“It’s my dream to write a hit instrumental song that people will always remember,” he says.

Adopting a “one for all, all for one” mantra, the Doors split equal songwriting credit among the four members. But when Jim Morrison is your lead singer, it’s inevitable that less oxygen exists for the other members. Few know that Krieger wrote three of the band’s highest-charting singles (“Love Her Madly,” “Touch Me,” “Light My Fire”).

Even though it’s a story he’s retold thousands of times, there’s a certain simplistic thrill to hear Krieger explain the spark behind the band’s biggest hit, inauspiciously composed late one night on the piano bench at his parents’ house, where he lived until the band’s career became the grist for an Oliver Stone biopic.

“I asked Jim what should I write about and he said, ‘Write about something universal,’ so I decided to write about earth, air, fire or water,” Krieger says.

“I picked fire because I liked that song by the Stones, ‘Play With Fire,’” he says. “The words just came to me. I’d never heard anyone say those three words together before.”

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The Doors in 1967. (Bobby Klein/Doors Property, LLC/Rhino Entertainment)

Krieger was just 20 when he wrote the song that has endured for half a century. This idea of youth is central to the mythology and perpetual vitality of the Doors, a group that sold you on the supernatural dream that permanent enlightenment was a short trip away, in any direction that deranged the senses.

Every generation of eighth-graders is seduced anew by the Doors’ autonomic rebelliousness, grandiosity and epic sweep that encompassed French Symbolist poetry, Bavarian beer-hall stomp, Athenian drama, alluvial Southern blues, Iberian guitar and the occasional indecent exposure charge. Merely reciting a list of those influences induces eye rolls from skeptics, flashbacks to acne and regrettable haircuts, insufferable teenage poetry and bootleg T-shirts hawked on the Venice Beach Boardwalk.

For many, the Doors remind us of our worst selves. One pretentious boor in a dorm room convinced that he’s the reincarnation of Jim Morrison can ruin the band forever. And they aren’t wholly absolved from inspiring thousands of would-be mystics who returned from Burning Man “pretty sure” that they’re shamans. In the parlance of our times, they seem basic. When the influential website Pitchfork ranked the 200 best albums of the 1960s, “The Doors” was the lone entrant and it barely cracked the top 100.

Among their canonized peers, the Grateful Dead’s long, strange trip ended with the countercultural kings slowly being submerged into the corporate infrastructure they once existed in opposition to the Velvet Underground turned obscurity in the ’60s into post-breakup notoriety as ground zero for the sneering rise of punk and alternative rock and Jimi Hendrix remained frozen in tie-dye as a psychedelic sage, whose guitar is less easily ridiculed than some of Morrison’s more overwrought lyrics.

But this critical revisionism doesn’t square with the band’s sustained influence. Any artist in thrall to Iggy Pop, Ian Curtis of Joy Division, Nick Cave or Patti Smith owes at least a secondhand debt to the Doors. Lana Del Rey name-checked Jim Morrison on “Gods and Monsters” and once covered “Roadhouse Blues.” Marilyn Manson has repeatedly declared the band’s formative and continued impact upon him.

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Cover art for The Doors' 1967 eponymous debut. (Rhino Entertainment)

“The Doors were what made me want to become a rock star,” Manson says. “If you separate all the ingredients, the vocals and the guitars and the rhythm, it wouldn’t make sense. But together, there’s magic in those songs.”

Morrison’s patrilineal heritage directly extends from Manson to Lil Uzi Vert, a rapper whose emergence this past year has partially redefined the rock-star archetype for a new generation.

The Doors’ reputation in rock circles may have declined over the years, but it’s in rap where you can see the Doors’ modern influence most dramatically. Kanye West famously sampled “Five to One” for Jay-Z’s “Takeover.” The unhinged showmanship and ­codeine-fueled rampage of Lil Wayne’s historic 2005-2008 streak reminded many of Morrison. (During his stint on Rikers Island, Weezy read a Doors biography.)

In Los Angeles, where 2Pac still exists as gangsta rap’s patron deity, Morrison levitates just above him in the civic hagiography. The parallels are unmistakable, from the Christ-like poses and books of poetry to the attacks from authorities and preponderance of leather. Snoop Dogg covered “Riders on the Storm.” Members of the Pharcyde selected their group name after an afternoon eating mushrooms and watching Stone’s “The Doors.”

“I got introduced to the Doors by a documentary,” says South Central’s G Perico, one of Los Angeles’s best and fastest-rising new gangsta rappers. “I immediately became a fan of how real Jim Morrison was. Even though he was long gone, I was still drawn to his energy.”

It’s unquantifiable and orphic energy, one best experienced through vibe than a clinical deconstruction of the band’s (impressive) discography. The Doors induce chimerical feelings of ominous sunshine, primordial serpents and peculiar creatures communing in Laurel Canyon. At their best, they conjure moods that language can’t label — the interstitial half-remembered transmissions of an acid trip, the deja vu when the bloodshed of the past interferes with the dystopian frequencies of the present.

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Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart, left, Remo Belli, founder and chief executive of Remo Inc., center, and John Densmore, the drummer of the the Doors, take part in a giant drum circle in 2012. (Damian Dovarganes/AP)

“The ’60s was only two years: ’65 to ’67. That was it. That was the pure across-the-board renaissance of music, art and film before it got co-opted, the assassinations started and Vietnam polarized everything,” John Densmore says.

If you’re searching for the subversive streak that defined the Doors, Densmore is where the journey ends. At 72, he’s retained a seeker’s curiosity, the poetic spirit that set them apart and the atavistic energy found in most great drummers.

“A lot of the time, I sit around depressed about the current situation with a few maniacs running the world and then I think, ‘How . . . did I ever get through seeing a little girl napalmed on television every night?’ ” he says.

“It was just horrific, but our [generation’s] protests helped stop the war, and if we got through that, we can get through Trump. So I try to look at him as the catalyst coalescing everyone who’s been semi-asleep — and that assuages my depression.”

It’s a summer morning at the tribal-art-decorated house in the Pacific Palisades where Densmore lives with his son and a big, white, affable dog named Conch. He wears athletic shorts and a loose black T-shirt. His hair and goatee are entirely gray, but a studded earring exaggerates an ageless trickster glint in his eyes. There is no drum circle he couldn’t lead.

Doors lore often wrongly stereotypes Densmore as needlessly contentious. In Stone’s mystic caricature, Densmore (played by future “Entourage” star Kevin Dillon) furiously storms out due to Morrison’s sodden outlandishness. In 2003, when Cadillac offered $15 million to license “Break on Through (To the Other Side),” Densmore vetoed the commercial. When Manzarek, Krieger, Ian Astbury of the Cult and Police drummer Stewart Copeland formed the Doors of the 21st Century, Densmore successfully sued to keep them from using the band’s name.

In the ensuing trial, Densmore claimed that Manzarek and Krieger’s legal team depicted him as an eco-terrorist (he once was arrested alongside Bonnie Raitt for protesting corporate clearing of ancient rain forests). Raitt, Neil Young, Eddie Vedder, Tom Petty, Tom Waits and Randy Newman all supported Densmore during the case. But despite this once-seismic rift, Densmore and Krieger, the lone survivors, briefly reunited to play “L.A. Woman” at the Day of the Doors celebration.

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Cover art for The Doors' 1971 album "L.A. Woman." (Rhino Entertainment)

“It’s because of the music. We created something together bigger than us,” Densmore says. “The muse comes in, and it’s not yours, and that’s huge. So our differ­ences can go aside. As time goes on, it’s easier.”

In conversation, Densmore radiates a creative integrity that frequently feels endangered. Royalties have made him a multi­millionaire, but he has also turned down more than most of us will make in this lifetime. There’s an engagement and curiosity about the present that feels more palpable than with most of his peers. If the fire still burns, it’s partially because he hasn’t lost the ability to stay outraged.

“In different stages of life, you do start to see [things] you didn’t see before. What makes me so crazy is we’re [hurting] the youth,” Densmore says. “Can’t we not only financially but emotionally invest in the youth? That’s what an elder is supposed to do. My friend Michael Mead, the mythologist, said, ‘Everybody gets older, but not everybody gets elder.’ That’s it, which means look around, help the youth, show gratitude, don’t just be an old prick.”

Accordingly, he’s devoted himself to political action, philanthropy and the arts. Since distancing himself from the rock world in the 1980s, he’s performed with a touring dancing company, acted in plays and television shows, and written several books. He recently completed the book “Meetings With Remarkable Musicians,” which chronicles his interactions with Ravi Shankar, Patti Smith, Gustavo Dudamel and Elvin Jones. As he breaks down the concept and chapters, his excitement builds, his syllables accelerate you catch that alchemical symphony that buoyed those immemorial songs. And maybe that’s all there is. Maybe the simple answer is that you just need to stay true and keep searching.

“I’m still looking for the music in between the sentences,” Densmore says, taking a quick quarter note rest, perfectly paced. “Same as you.”

This article has been updated to note the musicians who supported Densmore at the the Doors of the 21st Century trial were not, in fact, present for the proceedings.


Doors’ Densmore remembers Jim Morrison and band’s heated feud ahead of his book signing in Boulder

Deel dit:

It’s 1968, one of the most pivotal years for America in the 21st century. The Vietnam war is reaching its bloody crescendo and a hard-fought presidential campaign is underway.

Jim Morrison, legendary singer and poet of the Los Angeles rock band, the Doors, is out of town when his three bandmates, drummer John Densmore, guitarist Robbie Krieger and keyboardist Ray Manzarek, agree to a tentative deal allowing the use of their number-one-hit song, “Light My Fire,” in a television commercial for Buick cars.

This, despite band members’ unusual decision to share equal songwriting credit and make all decisions by consensus. This, despite the fact that the members had previously agreed that allowing their music to be used to sell a product, any product, would be akin to making a deal with the devil.

When Morrison, the personification of the Doors’ jazz-influenced, psychedelic, catchy and often political rock, found out, he was outraged. He accused his bandmates, who first jammed together in a garage in the Venice neighborhood of Los Angeles, of selling out and threatened to smash a Buick, live onstage, in protest.

Ashamed, the three agreed to uphold their famous “all for one, one for all” partnership, and abandoned the Buick deal. (The band did allow their 1971 hit, “Riders on the Storm,” to be used in a British commercial for Parelli tires, the only time they did so, but donated the money they received to charity.)

“Jim did not primarily write ‘Light My Fire.’ He only wrote a line or two,” said Densmore, now 74. “He said ‘f-you’ to the rest of us, because we were considering ‘Come on Buick, Light my Fire.’ What does that say? That he cared about the whole catalog, all our songs, what we all represented.”

Fast forward three decades. Morrison is long gone, having died in Paris in 1971. Krieger and Manzarek are eager to sign a $15 million deal with Cadillac to use “Break on Through” in a commercial.

But this time, it’s Densmore who says no. He also balks at Krieger and Manzarek touring with Police drummer Stewart Copeland and Cult singer Ian Astbury as “The Doors of the 21st Century” (the last four words in decidedly small print) and using Morrison’s image to promote shows.

John Densmore. (Scott Mitchell Photography / Courtesy photo)

“That’s when,” Densmore said, “I made the very difficult decision to sue my bandmates for running off with the name. My premise was, the Doors without Jim is ludicrous, just as ludicrous as The Police without Sting, the Stones without Mick.”

Krieger and Manzarek countersued, and “all for one, one for all” looked as if it had been irrevocably shattered — forever.

Densmore recounts the story of the lengthy legal wrangling that followed, as Morrison’s parents — estranged from their talented, mercurial and troubled son during his rise to fame — joined the drummer’s suit, setting up a monumental battle that split the band in half, in his self-published book, “The Doors: Unhinged” (subtitled, “Jim Morrison’s Legacy Goes on Trial”). Densmore will speak about and sign the book during his first visit to Boulder on Saturday.

“What I’m doing is going to places I’ve always wanted to go that I have never been to,” said Densmore, who first published the book in 2013. “I just did Santa Cruz, and since I’d never been to Boulder, I’m coming there.”

Densmore’s 1991 memoir “Riders on the Storm” was a New York Times bestseller. The story of the long legal wrangling over Morrison’s legacy, which also shines light on Densmore’s long-time political activism — he was once tossed in a paddy wagon with Bonnie Raitt for protesting the destruction of old-growth forests — has drawn accolades from numerous rock and roll legends.

On the back cover of Densmore’s book is a quote from Tom Waits: “John Densmore is not for sale and that is his gift to us.”

“Eddie Vedder said he hopes someone like me will be there to protect his legacy,” Densmore said.

At first, many fans viewed Densmore as a traitor. But the legal cases eventually were resolved in his favor and, he said, true fans see his act of rebellion for what it is.

“They know I’m trying to preserve John, Ray, Robbie and Jim,” he said, “not Fred or Tom or whoever.”

Talk-show host and author Tavis Smiley once told Densmore, “You’re either a saint, or you’re crazy,” to turn down a cool $5 million for the Cadillac commercial. Densmore said he was “just trying to listen to Jim’s ghost.”

“I just didn’t want to have ‘Break on Through’ used to sell a gas-guzzling Cadillac Escalade,” he said. “I said to the guys, ‘We’ve all got a nice house, a couple cars. What do you need to buy so badly to sell out Jim’s legacy?’ They didn’t have any answer to that.”

The split was acrimonious, but Densmore wrote the final chapter as a plea to his former bandmates, whose friendship he couldn’t imagine living without.

“I wrote, basically, ‘Hey guys, it’s a hard pill to swallow, but please read this. How could I not love you guys for creating magic in a garage all those years ago?’” he said.

It took a few years, but both Manzarek and Krieger came around. When Densmore heard Manzarek was ill, the two spoke by phone. Manzarek died in May 2013.

“It was a short conversation, but healing. We had closure, thank God,” Densmore said.

And these days, he and Krieger get together to play music occasionally, including a recent rendition of “Hello, I Love You” — the band’s only other chart-topping hit — at a benefit event, with Jack Black on vocals.

“We were blessed by the muse. Something happened in that garage that was bigger than the four of us,” Densmore said. “We’ve got to honor that.”

With the benefit of hindsight, Densmore believes Morrison was an alcoholic. In his seminal band bio, “No One Here Gets Out Alive,” Danny Sugarman describes an outraged Densmore following the infamous concert in Miami, where a drunken Morrison was arrested for indecent exposure onstage.

“I gripped the sticks so hard my knuckles turned white,” Densmore said. “What Danny didn’t understand was, that’s called ‘tough love.’ Something in my young psyche knew there was an elephant in the room, alcoholism, that no one was talking about. … Everybody wanted to keep playing, and the ‘greed gene’ kicked in. Me, I didn’t give a s**t if we had one less album, if (Morrison) would live.”

Densmore likes to believe that Morrison would be clean and sober today. He also believes that the painful decision to confront his bandmates resulted in a symbolic “healing of the ‘60s,” with Morrison’s parents coming together to celebrate and protect their estranged son’s legacy.

“Polar opposites, coming together for the common good,” he said. “It’s so touching. We entered this horrible situation, but we all came together for Jim.”

If you go

What: John Densmore, legendary drummer of The Doors, will speak and sign his book, “The Doors: Unhinged: Jim Morrison’s Legacy Goes on Trial”

When: 2 p.m. Saterdag

Where: Boulder Book Store, 1107 Pearl St., Boulder

Tickets: Purchase the book for $27.16 for a spot in the signing line books also will be on sale at the event


If John Densmore didn’t have braces, his life could have been very different

In the mid-’60s, he reconnected with a friend from high school and formed a band. The friend was guitarist Robby Krieger. They met keyboardist Ray Manzarek and singer Jim Morrison and became The Doors. The iconic band is best known for their songs “Hello, I Love You,” “Touch Me,” “Light My Fire,” “Love Her Madly,” and many more.

Now, John is retired and lives in Santa Monica near the ocean. He looks back at playing with The Doors as very fond memories. Sadly, John and Ray are the only band members that are still alive at the time of posting.


The Doors’ John Densmore Talks About the Band’s Ugly, Six-Year Feud

In his new book The Doors Unhinged: Jim Morrison’s Legacy Goes on Trial, Doors drummer John Densmore spins a funny yet lurid, behind-the-scenes tale of his six-year feud with former bandmates Robby Krieger and Ray Manzarek &ndash a greed-filled courtroom battle in which he was accused of being an anti-American, card-carrying communist who supports al Qaeda.

Densmore said the rift started in 2003, when Cadillac offered the band a record-breaking $15 million deal. Krieger and Manzarek wanted the deal but Densmore balked, recalling a studio session in 1968 when Jim Morrison, the band’s enigmatic lead singer who died in 1971, discovered the band was considering taking $75,000 for a Buick ad. In that commercial, the car company would use the band’s hit “Light My Fire,” changing the lyrics from “Come on baby light my fire” to “Come on Buick light my fire.”

“Jim told us he couldn’t trust us anymore,” Densmore tells Rollende klip. “We had agreed that we would never use our music in any commercial, but the money Buick offered us had been hard to refuse. Jim accused us of making a deal with the devil and said he would smash a Buick with a sledgehammer onstage if we let them [change the lyrics].”

Then Krieger and Manzarek started touring under the Doors name. The band advertised themselves as The Doors of the 21st Century, with “The Doors” appearing in big, bold letters and everything else in small fine print.

“They started using the name the Doors,” Densmore says. “I sent some example of the ad to the estate and said, “Hey, your deceased son has been resurrected and has been performing. Apparently I am, too.” I asked Robby to stop and he said he would. But he didn’t.”

As far as Densmore was concerned, the Doors died in a bathtub in Paris in 1971. It was crucial to honor Morrison’s absence. “I was not trying to stop them from playing,” Densmore said. “They were great. Anyone can play Doors songs, unless it’s for an ad for some product. I just wanted them to be clear [that it wasn’t the Doors].”

Densmore and the Morrison estate, which includes Morrison’s parents and his widow, sued Krieger and Manzarek to prevent them from using the name or taking the Cadillac deal. Krieger and Manzarek counter-sued, claiming they were being hamstrung by the estate and prevented from making a living as musicians.

Based on courtroom transcripts, Densmore works up a cautionary tale of the ugly collision of art and money. Densmore writes that the opposing legal team attacked his character and labeled him un-American and a communist for not taking the Cadillac deal.

“They tried to convince the jury I was an eco-terrorist because I am involved with a handful of peaceful, credible environmental organizations,” said Densmore, who was once arrested with Bonnie Raitt for protesting the cutting down of old-growth trees. “I couldn’t believe some of things I heard them say. I felt betrayed, hurt and very alone. . . Now, you can probably google my name and al Qaeda will come up. Great, let’s go to Abu Ghraib! It was really disturbing.”

During the trial, several musicians &ndashincluding Raitt, Neil Young, Eddie Vedder, Tom Petty, Tom Waits and Randy Newman &ndash all showed support for Densmore.

“Though it’s something I don’t like to think about, there will come a time when I will be a Dead Rock Star,” wrote Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder on the book. “I can only hope that in my inevitable absence there will be someone with the integrity and principled behavior of Mr. Densmore looking after whatever legacy our group may leave behind.” Petty said the book was a must-read for any musician who feels their work is worth more than money.

In a shocking turn of events, Police drummer Stewart Copeland, who played with Krieger and Manzarek in the Doors of the 21st Century, took the stand to speak out against the misuse of the name. “Copeland told the truth,” Densmore said, “which exposed lies. Copeland challenged their use of the Doors name. He said that it wouldn’t be appropriate to call themselves the Doors. But if they didn’t, the limos and big arenas might disappear.”

In speaking with Densmore and reading his book, Manzarek comes across as an arrogant control-freak, while there is a genuine feeling of loss for Krieger as a friend. Yet, Densmore said he’s now on speaking terms with both of them. (“I just talked to Robby a few days ago,” he says cheerfully.) Yet despite years of in-fighting and ugly accusations, Densmore would still consider a Doors reunion.

“Being in a band is like polygamy, only without the sex,” Densmore said. “Things happen. But I’d get together for a one-off if there’s a good reason &ndash but it would have to be for charity, not for money.”


Kyk die video: The Doors Robby Krieger Plays His Favorite Riffs (Oktober 2021).