Ray Manzarek is on the defensive. It seems the critics have been ganging up on his band The Doors, a newly resuscitated version that features two original members — keyboardist Manzarek and guitarist Robby Krieger — along with new singer Ian Astbury from The Cult and some hired hands. Manzarek says The New York Times likened the current Doors to a "mediocre lounge act." A few other papers have kicked the band around as well.
So here he is talking to yet another writer, one who's slightly incredulous about the validity of The Doors 21st Century (as the new ensemble is officially named). Manzarek is still his glib, charming self, but there's a wariness about him, as if he might be abetting yet another critical ambush.
Still, after 37 years in the music business, does he really care what the critics think? "Of course I care; I'm putting my ass on the line. We're up there naked — wait, I shouldn't say that in Florida," Manzarek says with a laugh, making a sly reference to the controversy that original Doors singer Jim Morrison stirred up by allegedly exposing himself during a Miami concert.
"We're all naked psychologically," he continues, "naked in front of the world. As artists, we put it out there, and as artists we want people to like it."
By most accounts, the people have responded well to the 21st century Doors. Crowds have been enthusiastic, Manzarek says. "It's difficult to live up to the expectations," the keyboardist allows. "But you have my guarantee that it's a great evening of rock 'n' roll."
The Doors fall into that sacred realm of rock artifact dusted heavily by myth. Some critics take a knee-jerk negative reaction to musicians who would trifle with such a legacy by having the temerity to reunite. How dare Manzarek and Kreiger bring back The Doors? How could they possibly stack up without Morrison? They must be just cashing in. So goes the chorus. (For the record, I take no exception to the surviving Doors, minus drummer John Densmore, re-forming, although the band must prove to me on stage that the effort is worthwhile.)
It's about Morrison, really. He was "the Lizard King," a larger-than-life figure whose mystique has only grown since his death in 1971. So when Manzarek says, "We got the keyboard player; we got the guitar player. Look, Jim is dead. If we had him, he'd be with us. We picked Ian Astbury as our singer" — well, it doesn't really wash. Because the question still remains: What can the Doors truly be without Jim Morrison? And if you're Ray Manzarek, that has to sting some.
Surely, the new Doors cannot bring the same sense of reckless danger to the stage that they did in the late 1960s. "Now comes the myth," Manzarek retorts. "Was it ever there? We were a poet and a band of musicians playing improvisation rock 'n' roll. The reality of the Doors is not the reality of the myth — although I love the myth."
The band's rebirth was sparked when the Doors survivors performed on VH-1: Storytellers. They were joined by such contemporary rock singers as Creed's Scott Stapp, Stone Temple Pilots' Scott Weiland and Astbury.
About 18 months later, Harley-Davidson called and asked The Doors to headline a couple of its 100th anniversary gigs.
Manzarek and Krieger chose Astbury as frontman. "He has that brooding quality, that touch of the shaman," Manzarek says. "He's not imitating Morrison, but he comes from the same space: Celtic Christian."
The keyboardist lets the notion linger and offers no further explanation.
The drum chair has been particularly vexing. Densmore kicked up a fuss about the Doors hitting the road again and sued his former bandmates, forcing the name change to The Doors 21st Century. "John couldn't play; his ears went bad," Manzarek says. "He's complained about the tour. We said, 'Come on and play.' He said, 'I don't want to play with you.'"
The Doors next called upon some star power, enlisting former Police drummer Stewart Copeland. "That marriage looked good on paper, but it didn't work in reality," Manzarek says. "Let's just say that stylistically he just didn't have that mystery style that Doors drumming needs."
Copeland filed a $1-million lawsuit against Manzarek and Krieger, claiming that the band reneged on an agreement to employ him.
The group finally settled on drummer Ty Dennis. It also features for the first time a bass player, Angelo Barbera.
Manzarek says that The Doors 21st Century is not a one-off, but an ongoing concern. "We're working on new material," he says. "There will be a new album of Doors songs at the end of the year or early next year. Robby and I are writing the music. The people writing lyrics are Ian Astbury, Jim Carroll, John Doe, Henry Rollins, (poet) Michael McClure. We want to carry on the Doors' poetic tradition."
Although he's not inclined to divulge the band's entire set list, Manzarek did reveal that The Doors will play "Roadhouse Blues," "Break on Through," "When the Music's Over," "Whiskey Bar," "Back Door Man," "L.A. Woman," "Light My Fire," "Riders on the Storm" and select new songs. The concerts have been running in excess of two hours.
Manzarek cautions, "It's not gonna be the Oliver Stone movie. Don't come expecting a religious experience unless you're on hallucinogenics. I don't think there are nearly as many of those folks out there. A good part of our audience are the OS'ers. You know OG, original gangster? These are OS, original stoners."
He chuckles. "Original stoners and their grandchildren."
Senior Writer Eric Snider can be reached at snider@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 114.
This article appears in May 21-27, 2003.