New Doors entertaining, but not the Doors

Daniel Stevens

The band that played the Pacific Amphitheatre on July 25 was called

the Doors of the 21st Century, but in essence, it was the Ray

Manzarek and Robby Krieger Band. So what?

The show was not a transcendental experience, it was not a

happening, and the band did not try very hard to pretend it was.

Instead, for two hours, two old rockers played some very good rock

‘n’ roll and enjoyed themselves. What the show was was two hours of

some very good rock ‘n’ roll played by two old rockers enjoying what

they were doing.

The giveaway came in the band’s first number, “Roadhouse Blues.”

During the instrumental break, singer Ian Astbury stood back by the

drum kit and left keyboardist Manzarek and guitarist Krieger alone to

jam. This scene was repeated several times.

There was very little in the way of frontman shenanigans from

Astbury. If he wasn’t going to be singing in the next 60 seconds, he

pulled away, taking his spot in the rear guard with the drummer and

bassist, sometimes tapping a tambourine to have something to do.

It’s a shame that the Doors of the 21st Century are not a more

cohesive entity. But even if John Densmore, drummer for the original

Doors, had been able to come along, Astbury would still be the kid.

Someone has to sing the words, and Astbury, singer for the

underrated hard rock band the Cult, does a good job without resorting

to mimicry. He makes no attempt to sing like Jim Morrison, and the

few rock star behaviors he exhibited didn’t seem especially

Morrison-esque.

There was little at the show to distract from the music. The band

entered on the heels of a recording of “O Fortuna” from Carl Orff’s

“Carmina Burana.” No attempt will be made here to analyze that choice

of introduction. A little psychedelic nonsense played from time to

time on the two monitors flanking the stage, some of which looked

like a ride through a carwash, backlighted. Stock footage of atomic

tests and ‘60s protests ran when the band played “Five to One.”

Otherwise, the monitor was used for close-ups of what was going on

onstage.

There were no lasers, no flash pots, no inflatable Satans hovering

over the stage and no dancers. The closest things to choreography

were some goose stepping by the band at the beginning of “Five to

One” and the motions of a woman, too unattractive to be a go-go

dancer, standing off to the right who seemed to be signing the songs.

Only once did Manzarek break the flow with a drawling ramble that

went from the importance of voting to the guilty pleasure of

marijuana, all leading up to “Alabama Song (Whisky Bar).” Manzarek

became for a moment like that frowzy old fellow at the end of the

counter bending some uncomfortable diner’s ear.

“You are the people!” he shouted from behind his keyboard, the

lights coming up as he pointed out to the audience. “Conceived in

liberty ... in the blood of liberty ... “

No mention seemed to be made of Morrison, unless in that garbled

shout Astbury made at the end of “Wild Child.”

At one point, someone in the audience held up an American flag

with a silk-screen photograph of Morrison on it, but there’s no

telling if it was an enthusiastic fan’s display or some statement of

disapproval.

It’s been about a year since Manzarek and Krieger rolled out the

Doors of the 21st Century at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip

for KLOS-FM (95.5) deejay Jim Ladd’s occasional Living Room feature.

At that time, Stewart Copeland, very formerly of the Police, was

enthusiastically introduced as the drummer.

Since then, Densmore has sued Manzarek and Krieger for having gone

out on the road without him, and settled. Copeland, who was replaced

earlier this year after he injured his elbow, has sued, too, and

settled. The band is on its way to rivaling Spinal Tap for turnover

in the percussion section.

Copeland, like Astbury, was an unexpected, but impressive choice

to stand in for Densmore. In choosing L.A. studio drummer Ty Dennis

-- Ty who? -- to stand in for Copeland, the band seems to have gone

in the other direction. Dennis and bassist Angelo Barbera come to the

Doors from Krieger’s band.

At the Pacific Amphitheatre show, Manzarek introduced him as “‘The

Monster’ Ty Dennis.” Fine words, but like Barbera, he was there to

cover a part, which he did, and stay in the background. Tellingly, in

the publicity still that is likely running with this review, only

Manzarek, Krieger and Astbury appear.

In the second hour, Dennis and Barbera stepped offstage, and

Krieger and Astbury set up on barstools by Manzarek’s keyboard for a

couple of softer numbers -- “Crystal Ship” and “People Are Strange.”

Would Densmore or Copeland have had to stand in the wings during this

trio?

What all this seems to mean is that, for now, at least, the Doors

of the 21st Century is a cover band, or something slightly above. So

what? The Doors will never be what they were.

The Doors of the 21st Century may not be what people had hoped,

but they play some good music. Sit back and enjoy it.

* DANIEL STEVENS is a news editor at the Daily Pilot. He can be

reached at [email protected].