“When the Music’s Over, Turn Out the Lights”
–Jim Morrison

Most people can remember the first favorite musical group they ever had. Even when they come to enjoy many types of music, their initial favorite is never forgotten. Mine was, and is, the Doors. A strange choice for a twelve year-old of the Nineties, but as Jim Morrison said, “people are strange.”

Now that I am eighteen, I have a few “favorite” bands, but the Doors will always hold a special place. Unlike most teenagers, who are nearly the same age as their favorite musicians, and who can generally see their favorite groups at any time, my favorite band has not been together since the early seventies, and the lead singer has been dead since 1971. If I want to see them perform, I have to see each one individually.

Before last night, June 12th, the only time I had “seen” a member was when I visited Jim Morrison’s grave in Paris two years ago. When I found out that the guitarist, Robby Krieger, would be playing at Jaxx in Springfield, I grabbed some tickets and counted down the days until I would hear music of the Doors performed by someone who had been a part of it. I was going to see the man that wrote many Doors hits, such as “Light My Fire” and “Love Me Two Times.”

Unsure of the number of people the concert would draw, I left my house at four o’clock to pick up my friend, Jennifer, and navigate my way to Springfield. Luckily I was able to avoid the beltway, or the trip might have been an experience in itself. We got there before the doors were supposed to open, but the owner let us and the one or two other fans in to sit in the lounge.

After chatting with the owner for a short time, I was approached by a man who must be nearing sixty, and who held in his hand an autographed Doors book. He must have thought he was special until I told him that I had the very same signature in one of my books as well. At that point he realized how much of a fan I am, and I realized that he was not just some pervert off the street. He said the Doors are his favorite band, but he had never gotten a chance to see them live. He had, however, gone to all three days of Woodstock, so I was momentarily fascinated, and we discussed music and griped about the price of tickets today (I am still peeved that one can no longer attend a concert for less than $10, or in his case, pay $18 for all three days of Woodstock). Time passed, and Jennifer and I moved into the auditorium where the opening acts were starting and the human density was sparse. As the local band tied up their set, the entire room became a swarm of people of all ages.

Before the band began to play, Mr. Krieger told us that he and his band had been the guests of several congressmen, and had been to the White House earlier that day. I thought it was ironic that thirty years ago his band had been despised and condemned by the government, and now he was a special guest at a symbol of that very government.

I really was not sure if he would play many Doors songs, but my pondering ceased when he began “Love Me Two Times” and followed it with a medley of “Alabama Song,” “Backdoor Man,” and “Five to One.” Krieger sang a little, but most of the vocals were handled by Angelo, the bass player, and Krieger’s son Waylon, both of whom conjured the spirit of Morrison more by tone than style.

The time seemed to fly by. I knew that they had started playing around nine thirty, but as they played their last encore, “Light My Fire,” I had lost all track of hours. I knew, however, that it must be late because my drowsiness was beginning to engulf me. When we got to the car, I saw that it was past one o’clock. I am still amazed at the stamina of the aging legend. He played for three and a half hours without a break, a far cry from the standard thirty minute shows that the Beatles, and many other bands, had been limited to in the 1960s.

The anti-climatic drive home found me with an aching head caused by a clash between the cigarette smoke-filled venue and my contact lenses. I had not realized my pain until the music was over. My ears were thrumming with a familiar beat that fought with the radio for my attention, and gradually dulled as time elapsed. Relieved to get home, I removed my contacts, took an aspirin, put on my nightgown, and fell asleep.

The Doors are an icon in America, and are probably one of the better American rock and roll groups. They combined a diversity of sounds to make their music, some jazz, some blues, and some that can just be called “the Doors.” Their songs appealed to many in the midst of revolution, and are still appealing today. The Doors were not the “flower children” of the 1960s, they were the dark side of the counter culture.

Seeing Krieger was worth the drive and the headache. There are some who will criticize the Doors, saying that Morrison was a “drunken buffoon,” but there was much more to him than that. Besides, there is more to the Doors than Morrison, and I truly realized that when I heard that music come alive before my very eyes.

I found the audience to be interesting. The youngest person there was about twelve, the oldest was approaching sixty. It made me wonder how far it could go. Will these sixty year-olds still be attending rock concerts when they are eighty? Another variation amongst the fans was the degree of “fanship.” Some people must have been attending merely for the sake of going to a concert, and these could be singled out by the song requests. One could tell the difference between a fan, who would request the more obscure songs, and the others who requested what titles they could remember, namely “Hello, I Love You” and “Light My Fire.”

Attending concerts makes me think of technology’s recent innovations, and how different things would be without recordings. Recordings make it possible for one to enjoy music that was before one’s time. Before there were recordings, the music either died with the composer, or was copied on paper and played by another musician, but in that case was subject to the interpretation of different individuals. With recording technology, I am able to listen to a concert from 1968, and to watch a concert on the television in my living room. Despite today’s advancements in recording, there is nothing quite like live music or the atmosphere of a concert.

I generally keep a practice of writing down some of my thoughts and experiences after I attend an event such as a concert. I think concerts are important to remember vividly, as they help one to capture a moment in time, in life, and in culture. Seeing one of the Doors was like capturing a moment out of 1969 that I can call my own. Music is a way to tie the past to the future, and everything in between.