The Doors Most Underrated Songs

Feature Photo: Polfoto/Jan Persson, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The Doors were a Los Angeles rock band perhaps best known for the controversial public persona and untimely demise of lead singer Jim Morrison. But the group accomplished a great deal musically in the relatively short period between their self-titled debut album and the final album from the group’s original lineup, 1971’s L.A. Woman.

Morrison’s crooned, poetic presentation stood in stark contrast to the excitable pop-rock of the day – as did the instrumentation of the group which, while remaining consistently cognizant of the blues, incorporated musical elements of jazz to a much greater degree than most of the band’s contemporaries.

These elements, along with the absence of a bass player in the group’s lineup—organist Ray Manzarek famously provided basslines through a Fender Rhodes Piano Bass, which he would play with his left hand while simultaneously performing organ parts with his right—have endowed the group with a unique and continued significance in influencing musical acts which would emerge in their wake. The Doors also augmented their studio recordings with session bassists, including Jerry Scheff throughout L.A. Woman.

While the music of The Doors often gets lost in the shuffle of the debaucherous lifestyle and legacy of Jim Morrison – which has inspired a litany of books, films, and other media depicting his life since his passing, including Oliver Stone’s polarizing 1991 biopic, The Doors, starring Val Kilmer – many of the band’s more popular tunes have been adopted into the popular lexicon of classic rock.

These include tunes such as “Break on Through,” “Light My Fire,” “Hello, I Love You,” “Touch Me,” and “Riders on the Storm,” among others. But The Doors were incredibly prolific during their brief time as an active group, which increases the chances of many highlights slipping under the radar of casual listeners. To help amend such oversights, here are five underrated tracks from The Doors.

Hyacinth House – L.A. Woman (1971)

The final album of new Doors material to be released during Jim Morrison’s lifetime, L.A. Woman is far and away the band’s blusiest record, and is believed by many listeners to be an indicator of the musical direction in which the band was heading prior to Morrison’s passing.

The second track on the album’s second side was more of a musical departure of sorts for the band, however. While the Manzarek-composed music makes reference to Romantic-era classical – specifically Frédéric Chopin’s “Polonaise in A-flat major, Op. 53” during the organ solo – the track also showcases tinges of country influence not entirely dissimilar from what The Rolling Stones were doing around this same period, with select material from 1971’s Sticky Fingers (“Dead Flowers,” “Wild Horses”) having been inspired by Keith Richards’ time with Gram Parsons.

Morrison’s cryptic lyrics, particularly the repeated refrain of “I need a brand new friend” could be perceived as a cry for help from the troubled singer, who would pass away in Paris at the age of 27 less than three months following the album’s release. In any case, the song stands as a fascinating testament to the potential musical future of the band.

Shaman’s Blues – The Soft Parade (1969)

The Soft Parade is arguably the most frequently disregarded Doors album, as it features the least in terms of contributions from Jim Morrison, who was dealing with a number of issues during the album’s production.

Morrison’s limited contributions led the band’s other members to take greater charge of the musical direction, as shown by the brass and string elements that run throughout the album. The record ultimately featured guitarist Robby Krieger as the sole songwriter for four tracks, the same number as Morrison, with one track, “Do It,” credited as a Krieger/Morrison co-write.

Morrison’s contributions were notably more blues-influenced, and this can be heard distinctly in the album’s third track, “Shaman’s Blues.”

The number is quintessential Doors, featuring Morrison’s poetic lyrics encompassing death and love atop full-on carnival organ stabs. Krieger displays some of his most memorable lead guitar phrasing throughout, and drummer John Densmore’s relentless, bebop-infused swing prevents the proceedings from approaching anything resembling rhythmic complacency.

Blue Sunday – Morrison Hotel (1970)

The rich, hazy organ that dominates the sonic palette of this Morrison Hotel cut seems to carry the listener along, in what lyrically could be described as a loose sequel to some of the more restrained numbers from the band’s 1967 debut album (more on that later).

Morrison delivers lovelorn prose as the band cycle through a subtly shifting arrangement which could constitute an extended, progressive presentation, despite the song’s stark, interlude-length runtime.

Love Street – Waiting for the Sun (1968)

“Love Street” is an anomaly on a list such as this one, as well as in The Doors’ discography as a whole, as its more conventional musical elements tend to repel fans of the band’s unique, psychedelic and jazz-infused sound, though it can also be lost on listeners who generally avoid the band due to their distinct sonic aesthetic.

Furthermore, despite being released as the B-side to one of the band’s most popular singles, “Hello, I Love You,” “Love Street” was seldom performed live by the group.

The tune features a swing rhythm and is based on a poem Morrison wrote about the area where he lived with his girlfriend and the people he encountered there.

Keyboardist Ray Manzarek’s notably restrained approach contributes to the tune’s outsider status among the group’s body of work, emphasizing the more melodic, pop-leaning elements throughout – though the song does implement elements of classical baroque which lend themselves to the group’s usual musical stylings. Krieger’s jazz-inspired guitar is also a key element here, though it can occasionally be difficult to place due to its decidedly low placement within the song’s mix.

The Spy – Morrison Hotel (1970)

Compositions such as “The Spy” lend a certain credence to Jim Morrison’s insistence of his own status as a poet first and a singer second – a declaration often met with scoffs and accusations of pretentiousness.

But for all his personal faults and cliché rock star behavior, poetic expression was very much Morrison’s MO – and despite the inevitable objection of music snobs the world over, the guy truly did have a way with words. It’s also worth noting that many of the rock and roll clichés into which Morrison is regularly accused of playing didn’t necessarily exist prior to his arrival on the scene.

A tasteful, lingering guitar line and sprightly piano stabs color John Densmore’s brushed rhythm, atop which Jim Morrison propounds some of his most decidedly un-rock and roll imagery.

Honorable Mention:

The Crystal Ship – The Doors (1967)

The Doors’ self-titled debut was stacked to the brim with the best material the fledgling group had to offer at the time, and their historic residency at the Sunset Strip’s Whisky a Go Go venue ensured that they had the tunes rehearsed down to the letter.

As such, it isn’t difficult for certain tracks to slip through the cracks, as it were. “The Crystal Ship” could be considered such a track, an atmospheric slow-burn of a ballad for which Morrison’s poetry served as a focal point.

“Oh, tell me where your freedom lies
The streets are fields that never die
Deliver me from reasons why
You’d rather ​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbulIrN4scs