Apparently death is a popular topic among hippies, yippies, or whatever disenchanted youths call themselves this year. This is a conclusion that can be reached from the sellout performances of The Doors last weekend at Fillmore East, Bill Graham’s new rock ‘n’ roll h.q. in New York. A total of 10,000 buffs showed up for four performances spread over Friday (22) and Saturday (23) nights at the 2,500-seat site, which was scaled to a $5 top.
The Doors, Elektra Records’ hot quartet from Los Angeles, imply that the death of the world is imminent, and they want to record a lot in the annals of history before they go. They essay some highly inventive musical and ideological concepts with a bizarre treatment that seems somehow permanent and constructively artful in its pessimism.
Led by a wayout vocalist, Jim Morrison, whose animalism has prompted some observers to dub him some sort new sex symbol, they wrap up one of the philosophies of their generation in an opus entitled “When the Music’s Over,” which says that music is the vibrant force of communication and fraternity.