Although Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger, and John Densmore were readily available for interviews regarding the new Doors release, An American Prayer, we opted instead to contact the band’s late singer and charismatic lizard king, Jim Morrison, via noted medium Laura Steele. According to Steele, Morrison, who overdosed in Paris in 1971, sees the next five years as successful ones for himself and the group. Here’s what else he had to say:
On An American Prayer:
Listen, man, you probably want me to rag on the band for releasing an album that’s a complete sellout of me — and I damn well will. The Doors had a strict policy of unanimity. We all had to agree before doing something. I can understand their digging up some old tunes — hey, they’ve finished other albums without me — but it bums me out that they would think I’d agree to exploiting poetry like ”Babylon Fading” backed by those god-awful sound effects. I’m turning over in my grave, guys.
On the Doors:
We were important because we woke people out of their stupor. I’m no great singer, so I screamed our messages to make them heard. Of course, most audiences just came to see the bad boy perform, and probably missed the whole point.
On being an icon:
Wouldn’tcha know that it takes death to make a person immortal? How ironic. How pathetic. In rock & roll, the dead are deified; in life we are scrutinized. As Nietzsche so eloquently put it: ”What we do is never understood but always only praised or censured.” I finally achieved the recognition I strived for — James Douglas Morrison, Poet — on my death certificate.
Let’s just say it was time for me to pass on. My death wasn’t violent, and it sure as hell wasn’t a tragedy. It was something I wanted, and I slipped into it with a sigh of relief. I had spent my life frantically searching for eternal bliss — through methods that, okay, were admittedly excessive and often desperate. When it finally became attainable, I offered no resistance.
On the state of death:
Trust me, life is far more painful than death. I like where I am now. There’s no pressure. I’ve slowly led my cosmic mate [Pamela Courson] into the spirit world, and I feel peaceful and strong.