Seemed for some time that it just wasn’t cool to like(heaven forbid love) the Doors. Well, cat’s out of the bag…I f*****g love the Doors.
My parents made the Doors an integral part of my short pants years. So many times as a youngster I can remember going to the basement and a haze was in the air, folks playing pool, cans of Strohs sitting about and the sound of ” Cars Hiss By My Window” filling the cool, smokey billiard cave. As I got older my brother(6 years older than me) fell hard for the Lizard King. He even resembled him for a time.
I’ve always had a soft spot for these L.A. poet blues pushers. All proficient, even prodigious at their instruments. But it’s that psychedelic blues mixed with Morrison’s Greek mythology and fatalist Nietzsche worshipping that kept me around. Theatrical, melodramatic, over-the-top, and self important. What more do you want in a Lizard King?
Self-titled belongs to a friend that is allowing me to keep it at Casa de Hubner while he ponders getting a new turntable. L.A. Woman? That would be the very same record that spun in that hazy basement, amongst cans of Strohs and pool cues.