Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we’re born
Into this world we’re thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
There’s a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin’ like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah
Yeah!
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we’re born
Into this world we’re thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
“Riders on the Storm”was released
by the Doors as their second single from the studio album, L.A.
Woman in April 1971. It
reached number 14 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S. More
notably, it has remained popular as a fan favorite for its undying
mystique. “Riders” was actually the last song recorded by the
Doors with Jim Morrison, and thus Morrison's last recorded song to be
released in his lifetime. It was released shortly before he went to
France, where he died a few months later.
L.A. Woman
By the time The Doors came to make
their sixth and final studio album, L.A. Woman, they were
close to collapse. Their tour at the end of 1970 had been disastrous.
Jim Morrison was charged with indecent exposure in Miami in
September, then apparently suffered a breakdown at the band’s last
ever show in New Orleans. But LA Woman was the LP that pulled
them back from the brink, breaking new ground
The LA Woman sessions began
badly in November 1970. The band fell out with their long-term
producer, Paul Rothchild, who quit two weeks in, unwilling to go
another six rounds with an increasingly drunken, unpredictable
singer.
Rothchild dismissed "Riders on the
Storm" as "cocktail music," but reserved particular
scorn for "Love Her Madly," which he cited as the song that
drove him out of the studio. "The material was bad, the attitude
was bad, the performance was bad," he said in the Morrison
biography No One Here Gets Out Alive. "After three days
of listening I said, 'That's it!' on the talk-back and cancelled the
session."
So, the Doors turned to engineer Bruce
Botnick, whose credits included all of their previous albums, as well
as the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, and the Rolling Stones' Let
It Bleed. With his help, the band vowed to coproduce their new
album – no more endless days of Rothchild's studio strictness,
where it was normal to record 30 takes or spend hours on perfecting a
drum sound. "Rothchild was gone, which is one reason why we had
so much fun," Doors guitarist Robbie Krieger told Guitar
World in 1994. "The warden was gone."
The Doors decided to record in their
unassuming "workshop" at 8512 Santa Monica Boulevard. "It
was the room we had rehearsed in forever," recalled John
Densmore, Doors drummer, in the documentary Mr. Mojo Risin.
"Our music was seeped into the walls. We were very comfortable.
It was home."
Like a fraternity common room, the
cramped space was littered with empty beer bottles, dog-eared
magazines, an endless tangle of cables and assorted instruments –
plus a jukebox and pinball machine. "It was tight," says
Botnick, who was ensconced in the upstairs office behind a portable
mixing board. "It was like sardines."
Krieger speaks of the sessions …
“We adapted our rehearsal room,
bringing in a portable board, a kind of forerunner of today’s
ProTools set-up. We were comfortable there, plus there were two titty
bars next door. It was the fastest time we recorded anything after
the first album, all recorded live between the four of us, very few
takes, Jim in the bathroom, with the door off. Not stoned, not drunk.
Unless he was drunk, he was great to work with.
During takes, Morrison would grab his
gold Electrovoice 676-G stage mic and sing in the adjoining bathroom,
which served as a provisional vocal booth. The room's tile provided
impressive natural acoustics, and he ripped the door off its hinges
to better commune with his band mates. (Also note the vocals and the
lyrics in “Hyacinth
House” – “I see the bathroom
is clear, I think that somebody´s near” line.)
“Jim’s concentration level was low,
but he was focused the whole time. After the first album, Paul
Rothchild had said, ‘Boys, we better record as much as we can
’cause Jim ain’t gonna be around for too much longer.’ I always
thought Jim would last forever. He was indestructible. He wasn’t
saying Jim was going to die, but maybe go off and live in Africa or
somewhere. You didn’t always know what Jim was going to do the next
day so, as a group, we did everything for the moment.”
Jim Morrison actually left on an
extended trip to Paris as the final mixes were being prepared, hoping
to rediscover his muse in the City of Light. He would never return.
The album was a huge success.
Self-produced and recorded in their private rehearsal space, it was a
homecoming in both a musical and spiritual sense. "Our last
record turned out like our first album: raw and simple," drummer
John Densmore reflected in his autobiography. "It was as if we
had come full circle. Once again we were a garage band, which is
where rock & roll started."
“Riders on the Storm”
It seems inspiration for the song
abounds. The process of creating “Riders...” is an amalgamation
of ideas sparked by Morrison and nurtured by the rest of the group.
John Densmore, remembers …
“Jim always had notebooks of writings
and poems to draw from and would just pull lyrics out from these. Jim
had made the film, HWY, that was a road movie and he played the
hitch-hiker who killed the guy that gave him a ride. It was out
there, experimental. He called his friend, the poet Michael McClure,
and pretended that he had actually committed a murder just to get a
reaction. I’m not aware it was based on a true story, but Jim was a
voracious reader as well as having a wild imagination.”
Some critics see the song as an
autobiographical account of Morrison's life in that he considered
himself a "rider on the storm." The "killer on the
road" is a reference to a screenplay he wrote called The
Hitchhiker (An American Pastoral). Morrison was going to play the
part of a hitchhiker who goes on a murder spree.
Stephen Davis in Jim Morrison: Life,
Death, Legend (2005) speaks of Morrison attending Florid State
University in Tallahassee in 1962 while seeing a girl named Mary
Werbelow who lived in Clearwater, 280 miles away. Jim would often
hitchhike to see her. Davis says ...
"Those solitary journeys on hot
and dusty Florida two-lane blacktop roads, with his thumb out and his
imagination on fire with lust and poetry and Nietzsche and God knows
what else – taking chances on redneck truckers, fugitive homos, and
predatory cruisers – left an indelible psychic scar on Jimmy, whose
notebooks began to obsessively feature scrawls and drawings of a lone
hitchhiker, an existential traveler, faceless and dangerous, a
drifting stranger with violent fantasies, a mystery tramp: the killer
on the road."
Also, in reference to the contents of
the lyrics, Jim Morrison mentioned spree killer Billy Cook during at
least one interview. Cook killed six people, including a young
family, while hitchhiking to California. In all likelihood, the Cook
murders were inspiration for the song's lyric, "There's a killer
on the road / His brain is squirming like a toad ... if you give this
man a ride/sweet family will die;..."
Doors keyboardist Ray Manzarek said,
“Interestingly, Jim was pulled in two directions – he didn’t
want to complete the song just about a killer hitchhiker. The last
verse: ‘Your world on him depends/Our life will never end/You gotta
love your man.’ It becomes a very spiritual song; you won’t still
occupy this body, but the essential life will never end, and love is
the answer to all things. It gives the song a different perspective.”
Further lyrical investigation is
interesting. Speaking with Krieger and Manzarek, the philosopher
Thomas Vollmer argues that the line "Into this world we're
thrown" recalls Heidegger's (1889-1976) concept of thrownness
(human existence as a basic state with all its attendant
frustrations, sufferings, and demands that one does not choose, such
as social conventions or ties of kinship and duty). In 1963 at
Florida State, Jim Morrison had heard an influential lesson about
Heidegger, including discussion about philosophers with the same
tradition, including Freidrich Nietzsche and Martin Heidegger.
The title? Astute listeners can
recognize that the song was also inspired by the song “(Ghost)
Riders in the Sky: A Cowboy Legend.” Robby Krieger of the Doors
attests to this. He says it evolved out of a jam session when the
band was messing around with “(Ghost) Riders in the Sky, a 1948
cowboy song by Stan Jones that was later recorded by Johnny Cash,
Bing Crosby and many others. It was Jim Morrison's idea to alter the
title to "Riders On The Storm."
Bruce Botnick reveals his take on the
recording …
“It’s hard to remember the exact
chronology – unfortunately a lot of the tape boxes and outtakes
were destroyed – but ‘Riders On The Storm,' like everything else,
took only two or three takes and, as an afterthought, we recorded
Jim’s whispered vocal. We all thought of the idea for the sound
effects and Jim was the one who first said it out loud: ‘Wouldn’t
it be cool to add rain and thunder?’ I used the Elektra sound
effects recordings and, as we were mixing, I just pressed the button.
Serendipity worked so that all the thunder came in at all the right
places. It took you somewhere. It was like a mini movie in our
heads.”
The Obscure
“Riders on the Storm” features Jim
Morrison's main vocals and whispered lyrics over them to create the
echo effect. Densmore says, “After we’d finished ‘Riders On The
Storm,' I had this idea, which I suggested to Bruce Botnick, that Jim
went back in and did another vocal that was just whispered, and it’s
really subliminal. Unless you know it’s there, you don’t hear
it.”
Referring to the dubbed lyrics, Ray
Manzarek told Uncut magazine September 2011: "There's a
whisper voice on 'Riders on the Storm,' if you listen closely, a
whispered overdub that Jim adds beneath his vocal. That's the last
thing he ever did. An ephemeral, whispered overdub."
The band also called upon guitarist Marc Benno, who was making a name for himself playing with Leon Russell.
Fittingly, “Riders on the Storm” ends with the storm fading slowly to silence. But not before Morrison had a more subtle contribution: two ghostly whispers of the song's title on the fadeout. The eerie send-off is even more haunting in retrospect. "That's the last thing he ever did," Ray Manzarek told Uncut. "An ephemeral, whispered overdub."
According to an interview with Manzarek, the song was performed live only twice: on the L.A. Woman tour at the Warehouse in New Orleans, Louisiana, on December 12, 1970, and in Dallas the night before that. This was The Doors' last public performance with Jim Morrison. It was only the second date of the tour, but was also the last, as the tour was canceled after this concert.
In November 2009, the song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame under the category Rock (track).
In the weeks before Morrison died on July 3, 1971, he intimated to John Densmore that he would soon be ready to record again. As it was, released shortly after the singer’s death, “Riders On The Storm” would become his haunted, mesmerizing swansong.
Today, Densmore is pragmatic about what might have been: “Either Jim would be a drunk playing blues in a club, or a vibrant, creative artist, clean and sober like Eric Clapton.”
Sources
“Forty
Year on, Jim Morrison Cult Thrives at Paris Cemetery.” The
Independent. July 01. 2011.
Heinz
Gerstenmeyer. The Doors – Sounds for Your Soul.
Die Musik Der Doors. 2001.
Mick
Houghton. “The
Making Of… The Doors’ Riders On The Storm.” Uncut.
September 18, 2014.
"'Riders
on the Storm' full Official Chart History. Official Charts Company.
“Riders
on the Storm” (Which specific Rhodes was used?)
The Electronic Piano Forum. April 25, 2009 Retrieved April 1, 2013.
Jordan Runtagh. “Doors' 'L.A. Woman': 10 Things You Didn't Know.” Rolling Stone. April 19, 2016.
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