Posts Tagged ‘Jim Morrison’

  
Tuesday, November 17th, 2009

CD Review: The Doors, “Live in New York”

by Ken Shane

51ysgu3hnvL._SCLZZZZZZZ_[1]Earlier this week, I posted an item to Twitter (sorry, I refuse to use the word ‘tweeted’ in regard to any action I’ve ever taken) saying that I was listening to Rhino’s latest box set, The Doors: Live in New York. The response I got was immediate, negative in tone, and came from two colleagues who know a little something about music. One took a shot at Jim Morrison, the other at drummer John Densmore. The subject of the Doors has always been, and apparently still is, a provocative one. Battle lines are drawn. Feelings are strong on both sides. In the end, the fact that a simple mention of the band evokes such reaction, 40 years after the fact, is itself commentary on the band’s legacy.

Madison Square Garden opened in 1968, the fourth building in New York City to bear that name. In addition to the world famous arena, home to the New York Knicks, and New York Rangers, and the site of many legendary concerts, the complex includes what was then called the Felt Forum. The theater, which can seat up to 5,600 people for concerts, was named after then-Garden president Irving Felt.

On January 17 and 18, 1970, the Doors showed up to play four shows, two a night, at the Felt Forum. In 1969, they were one of the first rock bands to play Madison Square Garden itself, but opted to play the smaller Forum the next time around in order to recapture the intimacy with the audience that had characterized their early career, and to take advantage of the superior acoustics that the Felt Forum offered. It was just a few weeks before their album Morrison Hotel would be released. (more…)

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Tuesday, September 1st, 2009

Lost in the ’80s: Fields of the Nephilim

by Ben Wiser

My colleague John Hughes has graciously let me take the wheel today for this edition of Lost in the ’80s.

Fields of the Nephilim were the gothedelic deathrock cowboys of the apocalypse – dressed in cobwebby dusters, cowboy hats, and spurs – they delivered a string of singles and three solid albums before riding off into the sunset. (Sorry!)

To achieve their trail-worn appearance, the Nephs famously rolled around in piles of flour. To dust their dusters, as it were. According to legend, they were late for a gig when a local constable raised an eyebrow at their suspicious sack of King Arthur all-purpose. (more…)

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Posted in Lost in the '80s, Music | Comments

Monday, July 27th, 2009

Popdose Flashback: The Cult, “Sonic Temple”

by Dw. Dunphy

Things should have been going swimmingly for The Cult. Their album Electric had succeeded in becoming the biker-rock record they hoped it would be – raw, straight-ahead and helmed by a fledgling production wunderkind named Rick Rubin. It gained some necessary traction in the sales and recognition departments as well, based in part on the single “Love Removal Machine.” By the time the band went on the road, however, the future for the Cult looked grim. By most accounts, the blame fell squarely on the shoulders of frontman Ian Astbury, his hedonism and earth-child eccentricities becoming far too difficult for the rest of the band to absorb. The Japanese leg of the tour was nixed as Astbury’s proclivity toward destroying the instruments every night was becoming too costly to continue.

That they returned in 1989 with the album Sonic Temple is, then, some sort of miracle. That they were able to wrest some noteworthy rock anthems from the process is even more remarkable. Longtime bassist Jamie Stewart recorded on the album, but quit the band not long after completion. Guitarist Billy Duffy, having been stripped of his guitar pedals and sonic tricks by Rick Rubin, was relieved not only to have Sonic Temple’s producer Bob Rock reinstate the pedals, but add string sections, walls of reverb and Iggy Pop, essentially undoing all the retrofitting Rubin placed on the band previously.

And Ian Astbury? Well, this is the man who would be Jim Morrison’s successor, so certain things remain consistent in his ouevre. The shamanistic posturing, the biker-bar swagger, his ability to pad a short and sweet lyric with nonsensical ad-libs and attaching a “baybeh” to almost any sentiment: they’re all on the album, but don’t knock it, because for the most part, it works. The reason it works is because when added to the hard-rock kick that most of the songs possess, the two halves become a whole that logic can’t divide. For instance, the big single of the album, “Fire Woman,” is not so far removed from AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long.” Astbury doesn’t really need to go into deep, psychological detail about why his junk is on fire. It just is; she’s just turning him on, and that’s all there needs to be said. Does that diminish the song in any way? Not really because, after all, this is prime stripper-approved rock ‘n’ roll, itself only a euphemism for mattress endurance testing. (more…)

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Posted in Music, Popdose Flashback '89 | Comments

Monday, March 23rd, 2009

Unsolicited Career Advice for… Scott Weiland

by Rob Smith

Uncle Donnie gets pissed very rarely, but when he does he can certainly lay into you. I wonder what Scott Weiland thought when he got this. —RS

TO: Scott Weiland
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career advice

Scott Weiland

I get mad at you, Scott Weiland, and I don’t get mad at many people. There you are, genius songwriter, rock god, wearer of mascara, and the same hair dye my wife, Mitzi, swears by. Yet you constantly, constantly sabotage yourself. Stone Temple Pilots could have been the biggest band in the world, but you wanted to get high instead. So you break up. You clean up. You work with Daniel Lanois. You practically join Guns n’ Roses. Contraband: best hard rock record of the decade. Libertad: not so much. You get yourself fired from Velvet Revolver, you rejoin STP, you put on some really good shows. Then you put on some really bad shows, stumbling around, ranting and raving.

What’s wrong, Scott? I’m worried about you. Remember the cookout we had up in Kennebunkport back in ‘94, when Mitzi took off her housecoat to show you the STP tattoo on her hindquarters? Remember the hootenanny we had that night around the bonfire, when you took the guitar and played “Interstate Love Song” for us? Remember how much you laughed when Mitzi and I played the All in the Family theme right afterward? I wish you’d think about that night next time you get the urge to secure some China White or act abominably in some other way.

Yes, I’m mad at you, Scott, but I also have some ideas that could help you redeem yourself. Want to hear them?  Here you go:

  • Rename your new solo record. “Happy” in Galoshes?  You’re kidding me, right? This isn’t a Garanimals ad, it’s a record by a rock star. A genuine rock star. Possibly the last of your breed, man. Rename the thing. It’s not too late — no one has bought it yet. You debuted at #97 with, what, three thousand copies? Six thousand? In any event, it’s basically your mom and your fan club, so you can still change the name without too many people noticing. Only this time, name it something cool — Reanimator, or Defibrillator, or something else with “-or” on the end. Smackinator. Or just call it Scott Weiland II. But “Happy” in Galoshes? It’s almost like you don’t want a career.
  • Produce the next Limp Bizkit record. Speaking of shitty titles, you couldn’t talk Fred Durst out of Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog-Flavored Water? Either way, Durst put his ball cap back on and Wes Borland apparently found a bunch of badger costumes and face paint he likes, so Limp Biz is getting back together again. Get in on it, Scott. Produce the record. Sing on it. Tour with them. It’ll be the biggest thing going in the next year, when all the late-’90s kids realize they can’t get jobs anymore and need something to remember their childhood with.
  • Stop doing drugs. Jimi Hendrix did Electric Ladyland under all manner of narcotics. Jim Morrison produced Morrison Hotel and L.A. Woman while stoned, drunk, or both. Dylan wrote Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde on speed. Lou Reed did Transformer on some combination of cough syrup and bat urine. All great records. Scott, you cannot do the same thing. You don’t have it in you. Drugs make you do stupid things. Stop taking them. Please.
  • Fake your death. If you really can’t stop dosing yourself for your art, you can still probably pull off a really faux demise. You’ll be lauded in the press. You’ll be missed by your bandmates. You can move somewhere with whomever is close to you and leave the rigors of rock god-dom behind. Do it healthily — don’t take a stash with you. Watch as people come up with all sorts of good things to say about you. Slash might even be moved to do it, too. Heck, people might even buy “Happy” in Galoshes.

All the best,
Don

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Posted in Music, Unsolicited Career Advice | Comments

Tuesday, February 10th, 2009

Sugar Water: Break On Through (To Another Side of Acting)

by Robert Cass

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“A liar lies and a thief steals from you, but a hustler gives you something that you don’t mind parting with your money for. You’re entertained by the meal or the sex or the impression that something is going to happen. You’re given a sense of well-being….” –actor Val Kilmer describing porn star John Holmes, who he portrayed in 2003’s Wonderland

Val Kilmer wants to be the next governor of New Mexico. In fact, as he told the Associated Press in a recent interview, “If I run, I’m going to be the next governor.”

That’s the spirit! After all, Arnold Schwarzenegger had never held public office before he became governor of California in 2003, and by most accounts he’s done an admirable job in that post. But Schwarzenegger was always more of a movie star than an actor, and one reason he got to be such a huge international star was because he was a smart businessman (and, by extension, politician). He promoted action films like Total Recall and comedies like Twins with equal amounts of salesmanship and hyperbole, appearing on as many talk shows and in as many entertainment magazines as he could. He knew he wasn’t a great actor, and he knew his fans didn’t want to see him try anything Oscar-worthy, which is why the clip of him playing a pyrotechnic Hamlet in 1993’s Last Action Hero is the best joke in that otherwise misbegotten attempt at melding Schwarzenegger’s two favorite genres. (“To be or not to be,” he says before deciding on “not to be” and detonating the royal castle.)

Kilmer, however, is much more of an actor than a movie star, despite matinee-idol looks and brief brushes with superstardom in blockbusters like Top Gun (1986), in which he played one of Tom Cruise’s rivals, and Batman Forever (1995), where his Batman was overshadowed by Jim Carrey’s Riddler and Joel Schumacher’s campy direction. (To be fair, 2005’s Batman Begins is the only Batman film that focuses more on the title character than the villains. Even last year’s critically adored The Dark Knight gave more screen time to the Joker and Two-Face.) Kilmer decided not to reprise his role for 1997’s Batman & Robin. This probably pleased Schumacher, who returned for the franchise’s fourth installment and told Premiere magazine in ‘97 that “Val is the most psychologically troubled human being I’ve ever worked with. The tools I used to work with him — tools of communication, of patience and understanding — were the tools I use on my five-year-old godson. Val is not just high-strung. I think he needs help. I say this to you only because I have said it to him.”

(more…)

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