From U.K.’s magazine “Classic Rock” - March 2004  -  page 119   --   cover:  David Lee Roth

"Relight my fire"

What's that whirring sound?  Could it be Mr Mojo Risin' revolving in his grave as sham shaman Ian Astbury leads the stately Doors through a doppëlganging greatest hits tribute?

THE DOORS of the 21st Century    Wembley Arena 
 

Three things raised this show above an Australian Doors tribute.   The first was the presence of original Doors keyboard player Ray Manzarek and guitarist Robbie Krieger, making light of the absence of Jim Morrison (they've had 30 years to get over it) and drummer Jim (sic) Densmore (a victim of hearing problem tinnitus, and who tried to stop them going out as The Doors without him, or Jim). 

The second was a tanked-up audience who had come along to pay beery homage to what remains of The Doors and to one of the most enduring song catalogues by any band.  They came determined to have a good time, and they had one.

The third, and least likely, was Ian Astbury, who had several stars in his eyes during the various incarnations of The Cult, most notably as Robert Plant around the late 80s.  He has also ridden the ups and downs of the excess-all-areas rock star lifestyle.

As Ian launches into the opening 'Roadhouse Blues' it's not just his hair swinging above his shoulders in an eerie recreation of Jim circa '67 that lets you know he's playing the part;  it's the pose, the tambourine, the voice, the attitude.  He's even more convincing than Val Kilmer.

Behind him images are being shown of the real thing.   In front of him the crowd are word perfect, just in case he slips up.  What else can a poor boy do?  At least Ian reverts to his English voice between numbers and when he's berating the over-officious bouncers who have misread the boisterous but good-natured crowd down the front:  "Let the people dance, you fuckers!"

Ray and Robbie certainly look happy with Ian.  For men in their 60s they have failed to grow up in the most delightful way.  Ray, looking like a benign music teacher, is particularly tickled that you can now buy magic mushrooms legally over here.   "How'd you get that to happen?"  he grins.  Later on, introducing an 'unplugged' version of 'Crystal Ship,' he suggests that this is the moment where couples might like to "fondle each other's genitals, gently".  Robbie, by contrast, looks like a mechanic who's just crawled out from under a car in a road movie.  But those are probably designer overalls he's wearing.   (webmistress' note:  I was at this show myself, and Robby was not wearing overalls, but instead a colorful striped sweater and olive green pants!)

Musically they've picked up seamlessly from where they left off 30-odd years ago.   They know better than to mess with the classic riffs, but there's usually room to embellish the song at some point.   Too much room in the case of Robbie's over-indulgent flamenco overture to 'Spanish Caravan,' compared to the succinct original.   But the audience wait patiently for the next great riff they know is coming.   And when it does they're delirious.

For Ray and Robbie, the kick inside is being able to perform songs from the 'LA Woman' album for the first time, because, as Ray puts it, "Jim never came back from Paris."  They play its opening three songs in sequence, and eventually play eight of the album's 10 tracks, having spent the first hour or so doing most of the hits off the first three albums, apart from 'Hello I Love You' and 'The End.'

But the final fusillade of 'Wild Child,' 'Light My Fire' and 'Soul Kitchen' leaves the audience happily sated.  As they stagger back to the Tube they can't believe their good fortune.

by Hugh Fielder

  return to Ida's LA Woman Confidential home page  

 for more Doors news and reviews