THE inner journey may have been infinite, muses guitarist Robby Krieger, but for The Doors the real action took place on a tight, two-mile stretch of Sunset Boulevard. “The London Fog, the Whisky, Sunset Sound, the Workshop…” he reels off names like a spell; an incantation, you might say, to the shapeshifting music conjured up in these places, usually under cover of darkness.
Krieger is well placed to understand how deeply the songs of The Doors are steeped in the nocturnal magic of LA. Krieger and John Densmore were the only LA natives in the band, and Krieger grew up in Pacific Palisades, a few miles along the seafront from the band’s early Venice Beach rehearsal space. He wrote the talismanic “Light My Fire” at his parents’ home, while he and Morrison also collaborated there on “Strange Days”, “Waiting For The Sun” and an embryonic version of “The End”.
As if to underscore the band’s spiritual connection to Los Angeles, for The Doors, says Krieger, the trouble always began away from home: Miami, New Orleans, Seattle, Ann Arbor…
“The gig that almost ruined us was at the University of Michigan,” he says. “On our way, we saw this ice cream place. We didn’t realise Jim had an aversion to ice cream, so he said, ‘I’m going to the bar.’ By the time we got to the gig, he was really messed up. When he finally got up on stage, he didn’t want to play any of our songs, he just wanted to do a blues. John and I got so pissed, we left the stage. Morrison was always on the edge of destruction…”
Krieger still lives in Los Angeles, up in Benedict Canyon. From here, he has weathered Densmore’s 2003 lawsuit against him and Ray Manzarek for touring under the name The Doors Of The 21st Century and marvelled as The Doors’ remarkable legacy took another turn with the recent 50th-anniversary reissue programme. The recent release of The Doors’ reminds him of the strong work they carried out further afield
