The Doors — Other Voices.

Jim Morrison died of an overdose of publicity, ego trips, touring and contract pressures, all the ways the Pop Machine eats people, that finally drove the one-time Lizard King into seclusion in Paris and a middle class heart attack in his bath at the age of 27. The Doors image was built on Menace, using pop as psychodrama, music as catharsis (c'mon break on through to the other side) they came on as the original existential death-rock band, all creepy and surreal, with Morrison up front as the black leather masochistic fantasy singing about sex as death, love as a funeral pyre and (in Moonlight Drive) about going down to the beach with his girl for a little suicide by the seaside. Typically when other people were going to San Francisco to put flowers in their hair the Doors were suggesting (The End) that time liberation meant fucking and killing your old Mum. The whole thing was aimed at the sort of people who groove on Bosch paintings and Sylvia Plath's poetry. You know, sort of a California version of Jagger's satanic pretentions

The Doors are still a good band, don't give up on them yet, with the right material they'll be as big again as well .... say Badfinger.

— Gordon Campbell