SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE
Lying, Dying, and Playing Guitar With the Doors
by Robby Krieger with Jeff Alulis
The Doors guitarist reminisces about music and life in the fast lane.
Krieger’s story of fragmented “moments” and “sensations” reads like it was dictated into a tape recorder. Regardless, rock fans will be looking for substance rather than style, and the author provides enough. A Southern California kid, he writes about dealing with poor eyesight, vandalism, and drugs. Then, bang, he supposes he should recount the “infamous” 1967 New Haven concert when a drunk, raucous Jim Morrison was arrested on stage, a “moment of double-edged mythmaking that affected everything from then on.” Then, abruptly, Krieger moves on with his life story. Trading his acoustic guitar for an electric “was a major turning point in my life.” When he first met the itinerant Morrison, a “shaky-voiced, corduroy-clad introvert,” Krieger was unimpressed. John Densmore said they were starting a band; they had a deal with Columbia Records (which fell through) and a few songs. They worked for months on “Light My Fire,” their first hit and by far the most lucrative. For “Love Me Two Times,” Krieger contributed words and music, which he borrowed from a John Koerner song. Morrison welcomed the collaboration, and early shows at the “always-packed, scene-making” Whiskey a Go Go gave the band a chance to jell and for Morrison to transform his shyness into a “complete, unflinching honesty.” Signing with Elektra in 1966 was their first step to success. Krieger capsulizes their first two albums as “fun and fast” and “experimental and exciting.” Waiting for the Sun was a “chore,” and The Soft Parade was recorded when Morrison’s “drinking was at its peak.” Throughout, the author chronicles Morrison’s alcoholism and drug problems. In 1971, L.A. Woman “showed that we still had something to offer.” Musicians will enjoy reading about Krieger’s composing process and will likely be unsurprised that he calls Oliver Stone’s Doors film “laughable as a historical artifact.”
Krieger’s dry, chatty, wistful memoir will appeal primarily to Doors’ aficionados.