The Doors: the making of Morrison Hotel
1969 had been a monumental bummer for The Doors. The year had taken a turn for the worse in April, when Jim Morrison had been arrested for allegedly pulling out his cock onstage in Miami. The ensuing storm had seen lucrative tours cancelled, while the album that followed in July, the pseudo-sophisticated The Soft Parade, was their worst-selling. More worryingly, Morrison had ballooned in size, hiding his dazed face behind a huge beard.
There had always been a canyon-wide difference between the way Morrison – self-styled tortured poet – thought of The Doors and how the other three members of the band – the actual musicians – saw themselves. By 1969, the gulf had opened up to the point where the others couldn’t stand the sight of their singer any longer.
Producer Paul Rothchild had become the man whose job it was to chivvy the band into action, and it was wearing thin. “I’d grown tired of dragging The Doors from one album to another, especially Jim [who] had virtually dried up. Jim would either not want to work or would go into the studio drunk. Most of my energies were spent trying to co-ordinate Jim with the group.”
Even keyboard player Ray Manzarek, who’d always been Morrison’s biggest cheerleader, was weary of pretending that the singer’s out-of-control behaviour was central to the band’s artistic expression. Years later, on interview autopilot, Manzarek was still insisting: “Jim Morrison was the shaman… The shows were rituals.” Well, maybe in the early days. But by the end of 1969 the shows were becoming a joke – and Manzarek knew it.
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