Daa-daaa-daa-daa-da-da. I began to sing the guitar part that frames this song within a second of seeing the theme and, despite having done the Doors twice before, here and here, I knew, instantly, it was Doors-time again. Mind you, in my house it is always Doors-time, but, on this occasion, rather than again preach how wonderful I was/am to be such a precocious acolyte, even before I began to shave, this is a confession more to deprecate that sense of special we all, if secretly, have about ourselves. Especially when looking back with rose-tinted. So yes, I bought 'L.A. Woman' in the year of release, but, apart from THE single, I hadn't actually picked up or heard much else about the band in the intervening years. OK, maybe THAT single as well, but hardly die-hard fan. I think it was probably half a decade later that I heard the song featured today, and, rather than having spent the intervening years hoovering up all their early product, it was from that staple of a civilian, a greatest hits selection, albeit neither labelled as hits and with a groovy cover and title, Weird Scenes Inside the Goldmine, the title being part of Jim Morrison's rambling discourse, midway during 'The End'.
I have loads of greatest hits selections, from all the obvious and compulsory acts, the Eagles, the Stones, to all those cheapo supermarket selections from groups who were pushing their luck to be ever even described as one-hit-wonders. (I can't resist a bargain.) I may also have proper records by these same bands, occasionally bought before, usually after. In my teens and early twenties, cashflow prevented the acquisition of back catalogues or every release as it dropped, so it made good sense to use them almost as samplers. In truth, collections and compilations weren't then quite so ubiquitous either, as most of the bands I liked hadn't yet had careers long enough to justify the conceit. 'Weird Scenes' was a terrific compilation, 4 sides of vinyl encapsulating the essence of the Doors. It didn't matter I had 4 of the songs already, I adored it. (OK, nearly, being never able to hack 'Runnin' Blue' and did anyone really rate 'Horse Latitudes'? Really?)
This song comes from 'Morrison Hotel', the penultimate album, prior to 'L.A. Woman', and one that I have subsequently invested in. After the more experimental 'Soft Parade', a record I later learnt I didn't much like, it was deemed a return to form. I also discovered it was the groups most successful recording in the U.K. market. A Morrison write, it is supposedly about his troubled relationship with Patricia Courson, lifting it's title from the Anais Nin novel, 'A Spy in the House of Love', perhaps shortened for copyright reasons, even if the first line is just that. A vaguely blues format, framed by Robbier Krieger's exquisite guitar motif, Morrison doing his best croon over the top, whilst Ray Manzarek tinkles just the right side of hotel-lobby. A slow walking bassline is provided by guest bassist, Ray Neapolitan (me, neither), whilst John Densmore just does what he does best. The main hook in the song is in the middle 8, emphasised by the ensemble crashing to earlier momentary silences before Morrison declaims passive-aggressive big time:
"I know your deepest secret fear.
I know everything".
I have never been much for live recordings, and so it was only during the penning of this piece that I found myself sufficiently roused to look for a live version, especially as it now seems that every Door's concert ever has been made available. It's fair, I suppose.
But, in my searches I came also upon this, an alternative version, presumably ditched in favour of the one used. I think they used the right one.
I know everything!
