•
Rating: You gotta see me chaaaaaaaaanngge!!!!!!1
The last breath.... when I listen to the rising climax of the opening track of the last true studio album by The Doors, I get chills, the last cry of a prophet who left us too soon, the last breath of the shaman of pain, the last tremor...
Yes, because here Jim vomits the words as one vomits under the influence of a drunkenness, he vomits them violently, he vomits them with disdain, exhales them and consumes them upon himself, the body devastated by excess and the voice corroded by alcohol send out the hallucinatory final message before leaving forever...
Already that voice... dry and destroyed, justification that many often use to criticize this album, I, personally, can’t imagine an "L.A Woman" sung differently and I don’t think it would even make sense to do so because that way one risks losing sight of the essence of Morrison's last musical discourse...
Remember the highway, "take the highway to the end of the night", "Ride the king's away", already featured in other Doors songs, well, that highway is now actually a lost little road that could be Texan or it could be in Nevada, a road worthy of the beat novel "On the road" by Kerouac, this road, if traveled, leads to the reddest and most heartfelt twilight that exists, leads to the happy sunset of a man, before that of an artist... yes, because Jim was in pieces, after the Miami events, the group’s censorships, the press’s criticisms he needed, once again, a "new true friend" as he admits in "the hyacinth house", a magnificent, moving piece, of disarming sincerity and unprecedented simplicity to seal another sad masterpiece of the "end".
In the album there are then a good dose of rock-blues tracks, a hard, decadent and cursed blues, from the opening track, to "Car hiss by my window", to "Love her madly", to "Been down so long", "I've been hidden too long, and now I want to break free, I want to break free from the conventions of a fake world, a cardboard world, a world that doesn’t "live life", but contemplates it, judges it"; a further taste of Morrison’s last "attempt at redemption" is the wonderful "ode to spring" of the title track, a very intense blues piece, a jumble of fresh and warm images at the same time, that leave you ecstatic, like when you are intoxicated by the scent of a flower to the point of nausea... "mr mojo risin", that is, I'm rising, Jim rises for the last time, to make everyone understand that he has made it, even now with a torn body and thick beard, even now that he is no longer the sex symbol he once was, he sees things with disarming clarity, a clarity that leaves you speechless for the passion with which it is communicated, and so the metaphor woman-Los Angeles, the city of angels that raised him and in which he cultivated success, has become, synthesizable in the dichotomy MOTEL-MONEY-DEATH-MANIA.
The gloomy "L'America" evokes apocalyptic scenarios, while the cover "Crawling king snake" by John Lee Hooker, perfectly suits the reptile, the lizard king, it is once again an ode to the forces of evil to awaken the perception clouded by habit, a dance made of hissing and rolling over themselves, like a wet cobra in the desolate land of a world that is about to disappear, a world that is setting.
After the "renunciation of God" of "The Wasp", comes the masterpiece par excellence of the album, it is "Riders on the storm" what to say, it's one of those timeless pieces, the wet-effect of the initial rain, a rain that, let’s remember, is a symbol of purification, Morrison's ghost-echo voice, which as if speaking from a better world, a world revealed in all its dictates, a world no longer virginal, but a bare world without any secrets, carves his verses in the stone of memory as if they were graffiti of blood, graffiti of an existence in every form and aesthetic, a vision dictated by the unconscious, a vision thanks to which Jim gives shape to the shapeless, a vision that is actually a continuous search... riders on the storm into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown... the world on you depends our life will never end...
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 The Changeling (04:21)
Uh!
Uha!
Gedu!
I live uptown
I live downtown
I live all around
I had money, and I had none
I had money, and I had none
But I never been so broke
That I couldn't leave town
I'm a Changeling
See me change
I'm a Changelin'
See me change
I'm the air you breath
Food you eat
Friends your greet
In the sullen street, wow
See me change
See me change, you
I live uptown
I live downtown
I live all around
I had money, yeah, and I had none
I had money, yeah, and I had none
But I never been so broke
That I couldn't leave town
Well, I'm the air you breath
Food you eat
Friends your greet
In the sullen street, wow
Ew ma!
Uh, ah!
You gotta see me change
See me change
Yeah, I'm leavin' town
On a midnight train
Gotta see me change
Change, change, change
Change, change, change
Change, change, change
Change, change, change
Woa, change, change, change
03 Been Down So Long (04:41)
Well I've been down so god damn long
That it looks like up to me
Well I've been down so very damn long
That it looks like up to me
Yeah why don't one you people
C'mon and set me free?
I said warden, warden, warden
Won't you break your lock and key?
I said warden, warden, warden
Won't you break your lock and key?
Yeah come along here mister
C'mon let the poor boy be
Baby, baby, baby
Won't you get down on your knees?
Baby, baby, baby
Oh won't you get down on your knees?
Come on little darlin'
Come on and give your love to me
Well I've been down so god damn long
That it looks like up to me
Well I've been down so very damn long
That it looks like up to me
Why don't none of you people
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon and set me free?
04 Cars Hiss by My Window (04:12)
The cars hiss by my window
Like the waves down on the beach
The cars hiss by my window
Like the waves down on the beach
I got this girl beside me
But she's out of reach
Headlight through my window
Shinin' on the wall
Headlight through my window
Shinin' on the wall
Can't hear my baby
Though I called and called
Yeah, right
Woo!
Windows started tremblin'
With a sonic boom
Windows started tremblin'
With a sonic boom, boom
A cold girl'll kill you
In a darkened room
Yeah, woo
Ride
Ride on
Weooooo!
Wawa, eooo!
Oooo, owa, owaaa!
Wa, waaaaea!
Ooo, wa, wa, wa, wa, waa!
Uh-huh
05 L.A. Woman (07:55)
Well, I got into town about an hour ago.
Took a look around see which way the wind blow,
With a little girl in a Hollywood bungalow.
Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light
Or just another lost angel
City at night.
City at night.
City at night.
City at night.
L.A. Woman, L.A Woman
L.A. Woman, Sunday afternoon
L.A Woman, Sunday afternoon
L.A Woman, Sunday afternoon
Drive thru your suburbs
Into your blues
Into your blues
Into your blue, blue, blues
Into your blues
I see your hair is burnin'
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
You know they are a liar
Drivin' down your freeway
Midnight alleys roam
Cops in cars, the topless bars
Never saw a woman
So alone,
So alone, so alone, so alone
Motel Money Murder Madness
Let's change the mood
From glad to sadness
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Got to keep on risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Got my mojo risin'
Mr. Mojo Risin'
Got to keep on risin'
Goin' ridin', ridin'
Goin' ridin', ridin'
Got to ridin', ridin'
Ridin', ridin'
Well, I got into town about an hour ago.
Took a look around see which way the wind blow,
With a little girl in a Hollywood bungalow.
Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light
Or just another lost angel
City at night.
City at night.
City at night.
City at night.
L.A. Woman, L.A Woman
L.A Woman
You're my woman
A little L.A woman
L.A Woman
Hey, hey, come on
L.A woman come on
07 Hyacinth House (03:11)
What are they doing in the Hyacinth House?
What are they doing in the Hyacinth House
To please the lions this day?
I need a brand new friend who doesn't bother me
I need a brand new friend who doesn't trouble me
I need someone who doesn't need me
I see the bathroom is clear
I think that somebody's near
I'm sure that someone is following me, oh yeah
Why did you throw that Jack of Hearts away?
Why did you throw that Jack of Hearts away?
It was the only card in the deck I had left to play
And I'll say it again. I need a brand new friend, yeah.
And I'll say it again. I need a brand new friend.
And I'll say it again. I need a brand new friend.
The end.
08 Crawling King Snake (05:00)
Well, I'm the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
I'm the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
Yeah, don't mess 'round with my mate
Gonna use her for myself
Caught me crawlin', baby, window
Grass is very high
Keep on crawlin' till the day I die
Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
You better give me what I want
Gonna crawl no more
Caught me crawlin', baby
Crawlin' 'round your door
Seein' everything I want
I'm gonna crawl on your floor
Let's crawl
And I rule my den
C'mon, give me what I want
Ain't gonna crawl no more
Alright, crawl a while
C'mon crawl
C'mon crawl
Get on out there on your hands and knees, baby
Crawl all over me
Just like the spider on the wall
Ooo, we gonn' crawl, one more
Well, I'm the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
Call me the Crawlin' King Snake
And I rule my den
Yeah, don't mess 'round with my mate
Gonna use her for myself
09 The WASP (Texas Radio and the Big Beat) (04:16)
I wanna tell you 'bout Texas Radio and the Big Beat
Comes out of the Virginia swamps
Cool and slow with plenty of precision
With a back beat narrow and hard to master
Some call it heavenly in it's brilliance
Others, mean and rueful of the Western dream
I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft
We have constructed pyramids in honor of our escaping
This is the land where the Pharaoh died
The Negroes in the forest brightly feathered
They are saying, "Forget the night.
Live with us in forests of azure.
Out here on the perimeter there are no stars
Out here we is stoned - immaculate."
Listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the heartache
I'll tell you 'bout the heartache and the lose of God
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
The meager food for souls forgot
I'll tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul
I'll tell you this
No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn
I'll tell you 'bout Texas Radio and the Big Beat
Soft drivin', slow and mad, like some new language
Now, listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the Texas
I'll tell you 'bout the Texas Radio
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
Wandering the Western dream
Tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul
10 Riders on the Storm (07:09)
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
Killer on the road
(Music)
Girl you gotta love your man
Girl you gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Or life will never end
Gotta love your man
Loading comments slowly
Other reviews
By the clash
Jim, the master of those doors, says, near his death, that he is a “changeling,” one who transforms often, with many faces.
His real stories, witnesses of a life always on the edge, of an uncomprehended poetic spirit and interpreter of a human condition longing for life, transgression but also sad and contradictory, riding the storm… riding the storm…
By AR (Anonima Recensori)
"Morrison’s voice is sharper and heavier than a cleaver, in short, a composition made by a drunken madman and a not-so-better-off Louis Armstrong."
"'Riders On The Storm' begins: electric piano, precise drumming from a true jazz master drummer, and that guitar that seems to enter quietly without wanting to disturb, the prophetic voice of Jim Morrison, all in a magical, hallucinatory, and dreamy atmosphere."
By alfo
Jim Morrison, an intellectual with a deep hypnotic voice, amidst the wave of optimism and enthusiasm, already sensed the advent of the downfall, total, definitive, and unavoidable of modern civilization.
L.A. Woman carries away the painful perversions of the ’70s, taking them to the cemetery of civilization, leading them with its steady and repetitive rhythms to its ossuary.
By groucho84
The Doors could not have crafted a better epilogue for their extraordinary career.
‘Riders on the Storm’ is an absolute milestone in the history not only of this group, but of all rock.
By Alevox
"I'm so down, it almost feels beautiful."
"Jim Morrison, a dog without a stick, an actor borrowed and consumed by his own act, burnt like an asteroid in the rock panorama of the late sixties."
