Elektra calls this double set an "organic documentary" which means they took a year to record it at various performances, splicing it together to sound like one ideal performance. It ain't so ideal.
When Jim Morrision shows up drunk at a concert, that's his privilege (problem?). But when so many of the cuts here proudly feature him in this cliffhanging condition, one wonders who is the loser—Morrison or the record buyer?
There are a few fine exceptions: "Who Do You Love," "Build Me A Woman," and Willie Dixon's "Close To You," but they account for about 15 minutes in an 80-minute set. We are then left with the rancid/poetic "Celebration of the Lizard," (tightly performed,
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sure, but who wants to hear it more than once?), a mediocre new song, "Universal Mind," which sounds like a single that would not have made it, plus the old war horses "Five To One," "Music's Over," etc. These are enlivened by Morrison's humorous raps on life and liberty in concert hall America. To the groupies: "Now is that any way to behave at a rock and roll concert?" On the Miami incident: "Grown men were weeping ... cops were turning in their badges." He's a riot doing his comedy number. It used to be tragedy, remember?
But in the end we are left with the music, and when tackling his own material, the result is hysterical slaughter. Listen to his juvenile-soul rant at the close of "Five To One," his intoxicated "Petition the Lord" intro to "Break On Through." It's enough to make you want to get up and punch him. What's theater on stage is garbage on the turntable. Producer Rothchild must've chosen some of these cuts by Russian roulette.
The set ends with some circus humor: An MC instructs the audience to visit the concessions on the way out of the stadium. Ha! You've just spent $6.50 to see the show, now you're going to browse through the head shop, and later you're going to plunk down eight bucks for this album. Ha ha, very funny!
The cover, by the way, is strictly from the retouch lab. (RS 67)
GLORIA VANJAK
Among the many reasons to worship Jim Morrison is the ability he had to make his pill and whiskey-ravaged voice sound nothing short of demonic, especially in concert. Even 30 years after its release
Absolutely Live remains definitive, from the promoter begging people to remain calm to Jim's absolutely unhinged shrieking and his comic interactions with the crowd.
