10 Doors songs

With Jim Morrison's 80th birthday this December, it felt like time to pick out the 10 Doors tracks that I can't part with. 

They never touched the Beatles in popularity, but the Doors remain a touchstone for generation after generation. I was 12 when Oliver Stone's Doors movie arrived, but more importantly was discovering my Mom's copy of the first Doors album. It was alien music, dark but accessible, expertly played with wild man singing soulful lyrics. Like the Beatles, most artists that cover them do so poorly.  

The Doors never went as dark or inaccessible as the Velvet Underground - okay, maybe some of Morrison's poetry numbers did - but maybe they remain popular because they have a relatable darkness. I have never related to the darkness and hedonism of Sister Ray. 

Presented in chronological order, here are 10 songs I always come back to. Hell, I celebrate their whole discography and have most records on vinyl. But I like this bunch. 

Light My Fire
I could pick most songs from the Doors debut, I wanted to pick Soul Kitchen. It might be about Morrison's favorite soul-food restaurant, but he gives it a magical realism element rarely seen in popular music. Light on Fire might be a copout. However, the instrumental section cut from the single edit is controlled chaos between Krieger, Manzarek and Densmore. It might seem like an obvious choice, but the song never sheds it primal feel and technical brilliance.  

People are Strange
This song never left me once I heard it. I sang it in my 11th grade American History music day, I sang it across decades in various karaoke bars. It's a simple song but one that always felt comfortable to me. Being strange, Morrison's words about women seeming wicked and faces coming out of the rain always feel apt. 

When the Music's Over
Every fan has to pick a long Doors song, and the closer from Strange Days fits me better than The End of The Soft Parade. The End is completely unhinged even if I love parts of the song. Plus, its use in Apocalypse Now is among the best music cues of all time, soundtracking the movie's opening and finale perfectly. Soft Parade is a likable mess. Even if When's the Music's Over is a series of vignettes, they remain compelling vignettes without Oedipus intruding.  You're not surprised when Morrison shouts "We want the world and we want it now!" Morrison built up to that. I suppose he does on The End too. But this is a much better song to play as a party is breaking up. 

Spanish Caravan
This song feels like an outlier if you don't know Robby Krieger's background. A trained flamenco player, Krieger left nothing behind on this one showcase of that talent on the Doors studio albums. Only the Doors could take the gentle flamenco open then drop disorted guitar and a crash of instruments on the second verse. Therein lies the beauty. 

Yes, the River Knows
The darkeness inherent in The Doors makes it tough to call anyone song "sweet," but this deep cut from Waiting for the Sun qualifies. Written by Robby Krieger, it's a relationship-ending song, and a beautiful one at that. Who wouldn't want to drown in some of that mystic-heated wine?

Wishful Sinful
Amid the overproduced, glorious failure of The Soft Parade lies Wishful Sinful. The Doors tried to write their own Sgt. Pepper and it never really worked for me. The arrangements are so full on The Soft Parade that Wishful Sinful seems out of place. Maybe that's why it's my favorite. Morrison seems vulnerable at times wielding Krieger's lyrics, but then his roars pushes back against any notion that he's going soft. 

Waiting for the Sun
The title track from Waiting for the Sun came two albums later on Morrison Hotel. Honestly it fits the heavy blues feel of Morrison Hotel much better. The Doors rarely sounded heavier than they do here. Morrison's lyrics have a longing to them - "Waiting for you to tell me what went wrong" - that allow this short track to become epic. 

Indian Summer
A leftover from the first Doors album sessions found its way onto Morrison Hotel, and boy, it's a beauty. The song is dreamlike. It's a dream I want to be a part of. Like many Doors songs, it's almost happy even if it never quite sheds the darkness. 

Hyacinth House
Love Her Madly almost made it. Manzarek's honky-tonk piano is subtly tremendous. But it ended with almost. Blame Forrest Gump - it's a good target. Another rare gentle Doors track that has dark overtones and a breakdown in the middle (I see the bathroom is clear/I feel that someone is near/I know that someone is following me) that I heard once and have never forgotten. I'd be happy for some brand-new friends from the Hyacinth House. 

Riders on the Storm
The last song the Doors ever recorded, it feels understated, with Manzarek's organ guiding us through a a rainstorm. It's focused and purposeful. Were I there when this song dropped in 1971, I might have imagined a future for Morrison and the Doors. But it didn't happen that way.