THE DOORS (Riders On The Storm Tour, 2007)

Oct 24, 2007

Auditorio Telmex, Guadalajara. Mexico.

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The theater is practically full when the sound announces the third call. The Metropolitan Theater, also known (horribly) as the Telmex Auditorium, is a modern building, much larger than the Diana Theater but with the advantage of much better acoustics. This time, the architects and engineers not only considered a cutting-edge image but also the venue's original purpose, and that's why in such a short time this space has captured the city's main musical performances and looks set to continue doing so. The downside? No smoking or jumping, and the enclosed environment ends up intimidating an audience overwhelmed by the venue's solemnity. The place is made for performances by the best rock bands, but it lacks the atmosphere of open-air concerts: Two guys next to me hadn't even taken two drags on their (nicotine) cigarettes when two or three bouncers were already hovering over them with flashlights, threatening to beat them up if they didn't put them out immediately.

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I honestly went into the concert with low expectations. I never expected to find anyone who could fill Jim's shoes, which was a point in my favor. After all, Morrison is one of (if not the best) of the greatest vocalists in rock history. I already mentioned that in the introduction to The Doors. On the other hand, if Morrison were alive, I highly doubt his age would have allowed him the power and sincerity with which Brett Scallions interpreted his songs. Aware that Jim's position in his prime is irreplaceable and that Densmore wouldn't be there either (possibly resentful, or arthritic, or happily retired with his grandchildren, who knows), I paid for my ticket mainly to see Ray Manzarek, the band's creative genius. The night held many surprises for me: some good and some bad.

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After the third call, the lights went out and a mist filled the stage. The concert started half an hour late (though that wasn't a surprise), and I was frankly excited to hear Mark Farner opening the night with the best Grand Funk Railroad songs. First surprise: Farner only opened the concert in Monterey, so my plan to hear the best songs from two legendary bands was ruined. At least I wouldn't have to wait for The Doors amidst whistles and shouts of "Morrison, Morrison!" from people who hadn't recognized who they were seeing.

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As the lights dimmed, the now-familiar theme from Carmina Burana blasted from the speakers. The crowd erupted in applause as the band struggled to find their footing amidst the artificial haze. A voice (presumably Scallions') announced the only possible introduction: “Ladies and gentlemen, from Los Angeles, California, THE DOOOOOORS!” and Robbie Kriegger, that understated and vastly underrated guitarist, launched into the massive riff of “Love Me Two Times.” The audience leapt from their seats, only to sit back tepidly due to technical difficulties, as Ray was completely inaudible. As the song is already underway, Robbie and Brett quickly improvise a bluesy "Waiting for Ray's Keyboard," while the sound engineers run around like mad and the smoke clears from the stage, eliminating the element of surprise. Finally, when the audience is already bored with Brett while Morrison would already be in jail for masturbating in public (I try not to make comparisons, but I can't), the keyboards resonate throughout the auditorium and everyone returns to the original scale of "Love Me Two Times." Ray greets the crowd (his microphone is finally audible too) with that deep voice, identical to the one we hear on "Alive She Cried" or "Live at the Aquarius." Another surprise: Manzarek, the ultimate keyboard genius in rock, appears on stage with a single synthesizer, which means that the guy I-did-not-know-what-the-hell-was-doing turns out to be the bassist. I let myself be carried away by the song. After all, I'm listening to none other than The Doors! The song retains its essence, but something's wrong. The keyboard!!! Oh my God!!! THE KEYBOARD DOESN'T SOUND EVEN REMINDER OF A HAMMOND!!! I didn't explain this in the Doors introduction to avoid being repetitive, but let me elaborate now: The Doors' keyboard was originally characterized by its unique sound, which rarely changed. It was a high-pitched, almost circus-like sound, suitable for creating psychedelic atmospheres, DRY, which was mistakenly called the "Hammond sound," since this type of organ is the most similar. Many people even thought, or still think, that it was created with an authentic Hammond organ, although it was later confirmed that it wasn't. Well, Ray's sound was anything but a Hammond. Too much delay (echo), too high-pitched… I don't know. Honestly, I think Alex's synthesizer (the keyboardist in my band), which I criticize so much, sounds much more faithful to the Doors sound than what Ray plays today. The songs lose much of their essence with this change in sound. Robbie still seems a bit Distracted by the sound issues at the beginning, and his solo not particularly impressive, it feels sluggish and heavy. Brett's voice is rather peculiar. It's somewhat similar in its deep, dark tone to Jim's, but much more mellow, lacking the fury of the Lizard King. I really try, but comparisons are impossible to avoid! On the other hand, when the crowd really gets going, Robbie and Ray start engaging in a guitar-keyboard dialogue. They jump around, wave to the audience, and you can tell they're having fun, and that humor spreads to the seats after the tense start.

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They immediately launch into "Break On Through." Scallions' voice still sounds cold at times, and although his passion grows as he sings, Jim's crystalline clarity is missed. They stretch the song out at will. One detail I love is the part where Brett and Ray begin to intertwine their vocals during "Gotta Get High," just like the live version on "Absolutely Live." Finally, Brett recites "Dead Rats, Dead Cats," and I'm left with the feeling that they should have left that part to Manzarek. Now that I think about it, Ray had, and still has, a powerful voice capable of even overshadowing Jim, although certainly much less refined. Amidst the total frenzy and so many solos, Ray begins to launch into lines against Bush. Kriegger still feels slow in this song, but he perfectly maintains his style, unlike Ray, and remains cathartic in his guitar solos, raising and lowering the song's atmosphere at will, masterfully. The song lasts 10 minutes, and when it ends, the audience goes wild. Up until that moment, after the strange entrance and the initial adrenaline rush, I realize that the stage is practically deserted except for the instruments, the musicians, and two or three lights that occasionally come on… Where are the damn screens they were supposed to use for the audiovisual tribute to Jim?

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Anyway. Ray slowly builds up a new intro for Strange Days. It's the best drummer performance so far, by far, of the entire night. That apocalyptic drum intro is simply spectacular, especially considering the venue's sound quality. When the song finally ends, they greet the audience with a "Welcome to the Show, Guadalajara!" Robbie even goes up to the microphone and sings a rather charming "Guadalahara, Guadalajaraaaa!" The truth is, even without the charisma of their former frontman, the original members know how to win over the crowd.

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The show continues with "Waiting for the Sun." As the minutes pass, Robbie continues to grow in stature, showing that he hasn't let himself grow old in a rocking chair with his guitar gathering dust. Ray tries to modernize the keyboard harmony, again without much success. Kriegger elevates the song with those lightning-like, acid-tinged slides, pausing, taking the lead. With Densmore so fired up, Robbie is now the one carrying the band on his shoulders, his presence looming larger with every note.

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The first chords of "When The Music's Over" emerge. The theater almost erupts. It's only now that I truly realize I'm listening to The Doors, or at least two of them. People who changed the sound, who marked a turning point in an era, who were at the heart of that entire musical revolution—one of the most powerful bands! Ray sings in the chorus. So far, it's the best moment of "Scallions," where he sounds more confident, his voice finally in top form. Take the echo off the keyboard! Ray and Robbie achieve a communion like in their best days. It's a monster of a song, a delight, definitely one of my favorites, and I'm so glad they didn't ruin it. Brett will never have the same charisma as Jim; I doubt any vocalist ever will, but at least he knows how to move the crowd, lower his voice, unleash screams out of nowhere when necessary, seamlessly transition from singing to performing, and keep to the beat. On the other hand, as a whole, much of that musical tension I mentioned in the band's introduction has been lost; and this is largely due to the drummer being a caveman who would be much better suited to Pantera or Sepultura. Densmore's sublime touch is missing, that architecture with which he constructs the shifts. Where is the delicacy of jazz? Even so, they manage to create the right atmosphere, and I dare say it's the best song of the entire night. There's even a hint of Hammond organ! The auditorium erupts with the "Persian Night Babe!" section, and Brett continues to show that he's finally warmed up his voice. At least 20 sublime and majestic minutes. The entire theater can't help but rise in a unanimous ovation, standing, applauding instead of jumping and pushing, as it should have been when concerts were concerts. Ray, moved, says "thank you" in Spanish, and Robbie sings like he did on the Aquarius.

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After the tremendous collective orgasm, they launch into Peace Frog. They pick up the pace of the night, and the bassist shines with arrangements and slapping. The drummer does a good job, carrying the song very well this time, while Robbie sounds like he just stepped out of the studio in the heart of the '60s. Scallions grows on me more and more each minute, achieving greater cadence and cohesion, maintaining its own style without trying to imitate anyone, which is something to be very grateful for at this point. They reach the final part, where the song lowers in intensity, becomes sweeter, so to speak. The keyboard still doesn't stand out. Wow, coming here I never thought I'd miss Ray more than Jim…

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After the song, they start clowning around. Ray introduces "Monster" Scallion, the chupacabra (I don't even want to remember the bassist's name), and Coyote Kriegger. Robbie then introduces Ray. More cheers. There's still no sign of the video tribute to Jim. The screens I thought were going to appear still haven't, and I'm convinced they won't. In the end, I ended up being grateful.

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They continue with Moonlight Drive, a true live classic. They play it down low, with nothing to say for or against it. Then the guitar launches into the typical Wild Child riff. Robbie continues to showcase his signature style, remaining by far the best part of the concert, and even ventures into backing vocals. Next up is one of the songs I was eagerly anticipating but didn't have high hopes of hearing: The Soft Parade, complete with the intro of "Petition the Lord With Prayer." It sounds very strange without the harpsichord at first, but when the song kicks in, it's another of the bassist's great moments. I love multi-part guitar! They all sound distinct, but they manage to work together. Then comes "The Best Part of the Trip," when the Jims begin to multiply with the voices of Brett, Ray, Robbie, the drummer, the bassist, and everyone else packed into the venue. Before I know it, there's another percussionist… basically, there are two drummers on stage, and they're not enough to cover Densmore. Everyone helps with the vocals during the final part, but there are still eight or nine Jims singing at the same time, overlapping each other, reciting, singing, providing harmonies… But what a spectacular show! This simple song, along with "When the Music's," was worth the price of admission.

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Ray announces a flamenco guitar solo and says he's the only musician he knows personally who can do such a thing. Clearly, he never met Jimmy Page. Anyway, Kriegger delivers a 7 or 8 minute acoustic guitar solo, all of it top-notch. This puts to rest my doubts about who they'd hired to do the intro, including the "Alhambra memories" bit to recreate "Spanish Caravan." Robbie can do it all on his own! Quite a show.

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They continue with "Love Her Madly," another of my all-time favorites. Magnificent, but Ray's choice of keyboard sound for the bridge and his solo leaves much to be desired. On the other hand, the bassist finally shows what he was hired for, and the playing is incredibly fast-paced. Just before the end, they change the rhythm to reggae or calypso and then return to the song's original rock sound.

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Alabama Song followed. Honestly, I never imagined it would elicit such a huge response from the audience. Every single person in the audience sang along and rose from their seats: "Oh, show me the way to the next whiskey bar..." I was incredibly surprised because it's neither one of their most well-known nor one of their best songs. Ultimately, it was one of the songs that most faithfully preserved the original sound. While performing it, Ray couldn't decide what to do with his left hand and ended up moving it from left to right, inviting and even compelling the audience to do the same. Definitely, aside from a few changes at the beginning, it was the most faithful to the original sound of all the songs they performed in Guadalajara.

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Another song I was really looking forward to but never thought I'd hear is "The Changeling". The wah-wah! Robbie's wah-wah on his Gibson SG is incredible, and the transition is perfect. The song sounds pretty good, especially at the end, but I can't help wondering: What grunge den did they dig that drummer up from? The vocals are starting to run out of breath; after the great moment halfway through the concert, he begins to sound tired and struggles more to reach high notes or hold them for long. The song ends with the riff from "Sunshine for Your Love." Wow! Sure, there were some mistakes, but I realize I'm already a bit hoarse and that it's one of the songs I've enjoyed the most. Ray describes it as funky (I'd never thought of it that way, but he's not entirely wrong) and dedicates the next song to Jim.

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C'mon, c'mon, c'mon now touch me babe...! Excellent performance, they even remember how to create some musical tension, something they were masters at 40 years ago. Kriegger's coda is brutal, and I'm enjoying it more and more each moment. They continue with LA Woman. This is something I have to hear. That's one of the most difficult bass lines to play. As I mentioned before, in the original version, Jerry Scheff plays it to fulfill a challenge to Manzarek. Well, the bass in this song is incredibly fast, intense, and requires a lot of precision… Nope. The bass doesn't have that intense, runaway train rhythm. I knew it wasn't possible to maintain it live. Ray seems a bit lost. After a good while of elevating the music to great heights, now he's doing a solo that sounds like something from Sonora Santanera. The slow part comes in, and the audience goes wild with "Mr. Mojo Rising." Robbie's solo is exact, a carbon copy of the studio version. From every angle, this song is powerful from the moment it was written; not even the drums or a half-hearted bass can completely detract from it. About 15 minutes of pure adrenaline in a crescendo where they still don't subtly increase the tempo, but with an infectious energy that makes the song work incredibly well.

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After the apocalyptic finale of LA Woman, when the entire audience is on its feet, practically ready to rip their seats out of their seats with pure joy, the stage lights go out and the five figures emerge. They make us wait for the first encore, and the traditional "Asshole" chant that's so common at concerts in Mexico (I don't know if it's the same in the rest of Latin America) is not long in coming. I take the opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom, and when I return, the crowd is still screaming and about to rip their seats out again, but this time out of fury. I'm about to sit down in mine when the first flash of lightning crackles and the auditorium erupts in a unified "Ahhhhhhh." The typical bass riff begins. Of course, they couldn't leave without playing Riders on the Storm… The low, unforced tones suit Scallions well, and the song gradually builds with that rhythm and the constant flashes of lightning. By the way, I finally realize what those little lights scattered around the stage were for: Aha, to simulate thunder, hehe. Anyway, Robbie keeps getting bigger and launches into a solo of about 7 minutes. Pure blues, improvisation without ever losing the atmosphere. Manzarek tries to respond with the keyboards, playing jazz, which kind of breaks the overall feel of the song: Where's the psychedelic touch, Ray? At the end of the keyboard solo, he manages to recover and finishes well. Then that beautiful descending scale for the false ending comes in… Robbie's little spiders, the tremolo on the guitar… The ending is exactly the one we have memorized.

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Thump! The drums kick in, and from that sharp snare hit, I know what's coming. Light My Fire! Ray is really going for it now. They dedicated it to Jim before starting, and how could they not, since it's the band's most iconic song? What saddens me a little is that all night, absolutely no one has remembered to mention John Densmore. Anyway, Ray is really going for it this time. Midway through his solo, he goes completely wild: he's playing with his elbows, his forehead, literally playing with his feet, and finally, he lies down under the keyboard and plays with his arms raised, without even looking at what he's doing. Musically, the result is horrendous, but the crowd is captivated and applauds his every move. When he sits back down on his stool, the crowd is on its feet again: a standing ovation for Old Manzarek. Now it's Robbie's turn. At least the first 20 notes of the guitar solo don't change. Always understated but effective. He barely moves from his spot. He doesn't jump around, he doesn't make Townshend-esque gestures, he's not outrageous; he simply does what he does best: rock at the highest level. Today he outdid himself, he stole the show. I've said it before, Kriegger in any average band would be the star to watch. And without Jim or John, and with a somewhat senile Ray, he couldn't help but stand out, steal the show, and make the night utterly memorable. Ladies and gentlemen, here is one of the most underrated guitarists in the high-energy rock scene. Watch out: Robbie plays a few notes of Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles. Nope; they're not just a few notes: He's playing Eleanor mid-solo of Light My Fire and the effect is frankly unforgettable. Now he plays around with the guitar, does a speed solo like some eighties metalhead, and finally returns to the sequence. There's a bass solo. At least the guy knows how to slap. The slow build-up to the climax is missing, and so is the cemetery poem. It doesn't matter! They jump straight to the "Ah Ah Ah Ahhhhhhh" part and then back to the complex harmony of the intro. Brett, who I don't know where he'd been, sings the verses again, looking tired.

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After the end (of the concert, not the song, which certainly fell short), the audience applauded like never before. The musicians thanked them, insisted they had a great time, that it was all for Jim (and John, Gademe?), and left the stage. The crowd was so mesmerized by the explosive finale that they didn't even complain when the lights came up and a bizarre Charleston version of Alabama Song blasted through the speakers. They even slowly left the auditorium without complaining that there had only been one encore. That's why I maintain that theaters are not a good place for these kinds of events. Anywhere else, we would have brought Robbie back on stage at least eight times.

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Anyway. Ray disappointed me in many ways, but Robbie more than made up for it. Despite all the criticisms I might have, despite only seeing a quarter of the Doors at their best, it was worth it. As we were leaving, Luis, one of the friends I was with, and a very nice friend of his, seemed very enthusiastic, and he asked me what I would give the concert. Frankly, I can't give it more than a 6. The truth is, many things were missing. Luis was speechless and told me he would give it a 9.5. Mind you, I'm still hoarse from singing so much, I still remember, and my blood is racing. After all, seeing the Doors isn't an everyday occurrence. This is one of my favorite bands, and I will remember this night for the rest of my life as one of the most memorable. That is to say, I enjoyed it immensely, just like the rest of the audience. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be objective. There were shortcomings, a lack of energy. More than missing Jim, I missed John, and especially Ray, who was right there in front of us. Don't get me wrong. I don't look down on Jim as a vocalist, but Brett Scallions, if not filling the void left by Jim's imposing voice and personality, at least did a decent job, winning over the audience and with his own style.

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Ladies and gentlemen, rock is dead! But even its death rattle is delicious…

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By Corvan

Oct/28/2007

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