The Doors
Strange Days

After the stunning debut for the Doors, it was difficult to improve; in a way, they succeed with “Strange Days”. Certainly, the legendary tracks from the first album are missing, but the quality and cohesion of these new ten songs are incredibly high.

The atmosphere becomes overall more sulfurous, the electric guitar gives more space to the heavy notes of the piano, and Morrison gives free rein to his imaginative strength and paints desolate landscapes with his languid singing.

It begins with “Strange Days”; the piano is the absolute protagonist in creating the hypnosis; the words perfectly fit into the musical fabric giving life to something subliminal; a sort of tide that invades the mind. The track then flows into the classic Doors-style rock. From here, the change of direction is evident; although the first album didn't lack dark moments, it's clear that now darkness dominates everything. The sun has gone out.

“You’re Lost Little Girl” is another moment of dark magic; the exotic guitar phrasing gently embroiders on Morrison's damnably velvety singing. The ballad is splendid, a painful and fleeting crescendo; a sort of fresco on the instability of love.

With “Love Me Two Times”, some of the debut's rock is just retained; the epidermal guitar riff meets an unforgettable melody that travels on well-marked tracks, never as perilous as in the past; more charismatic than vehement.

Then we find a sort of interlude; after the psychic dance of “Unhappy Girl” there's the crazy babble of “Horse Latitudes”, the crowding of disconnected thoughts is at its peak. Both tracks don't sound in the classic style of the band, which proves well-disposed to evolving its sound.

But at the same time, it knows how to maintain all its prerogatives; indeed, “Moonlight Drive” follows, the first lyric written by Jim Morrison, a profound piano sonata, a theater of shifting moods and, simply put, a gorgeous melancholic ballad. The voice is at its maximum potential, capable of drawing the listener's attention entirely to itself, allowing other instruments to swirl around it as they please.

After this delightful decrease in tension, we return heavily to the central theme; “People Are Strange”; loneliness, in the guitar notes, in the singing, in the words, never so clear in transposing life into music. “Faces look ugly when you're alone”. The loneliness oozes from the music, the sky turns gray above us, the mind is trapped by this poetry. True and genuine art.

“My Eyes Have Seen You” and “I Can’t See Your Face” are other moribund meditations, as beautiful as they are difficult to explain.

“When The Music’s Over” is the violent, black finale. If “The End” was the ode to death, this is a sort of renunciation of life, a raging cry of freedom until the end.

“Cancel my subscription to the resurrection” is the emblematic phrase, Morrison leads us to explore the depths of the subconscious, he takes us along the rugged shores of the Styx; this is everything but a song, it is something more, it is a universal language that goes back to the fundamental themes of man. Love and Death merge, giving life to a bacchanal too fascinating to be avoided. The invitation is open to all; this is The End, your only friend…

I advise you not to refuse.