The Doors Stumble Through A Concert


A small audience at the Coliseum last night slammed the door on what was once the nation’s most popular rock group.
Despite a dynamic buildup by Albert King, impressive blues singer who has been touring with The Doors on this concert swing, sauntered on stage he got the coldest reception this town has ever accorded a superstar.
Audience unrest flared as Morrison, in simple blue tee shirt and black pants, dawdled inexcusably between selections. There were periods of no music, no talk, no action for up to 9 minutes each.
The young crowd took over.
First shouts were for Doors favorites, like “Light My Fire,” which brought the California group to the music scene in 1967. As Morrison refused to respond, a cat-call suggested “Sugar, Sugar’…anything!”
“Remember Miami!” a bitter member of the audience shouted. Obscene expletives bounced from many parts of the stadium. A concert in Miami brought a sudden dip in the group’s popularity when Morrison was accused of an obscene performance on stage.
As cat-calls increased, Morrison grew more remote. Ray Manzarek, organist, Robbie Krieger, guitar, and John Densmore, drums, competent musicians, were left leaderless.
West Coast Promotions, a Los Angeles firm which arranged this concert, one and one which follows in Vancouver, B.C., were hoping for a revival of interest in The Doors.
This is a new wholesome show, one of the promoters explained, before the concert.
“Give the singer a chance,” Morrison mumbled. “I haven’t been to Seattle in two years.”
The audience rebutted:
“You were here last summer!”
Morrison made a tasteless pun on the Latin phrase, Tempus Fuget, and described Seattle as a 1930 version of 20 years in the future. Most understood the first (clipping ends)

Morrison was piqued enough at one point to simulate an act, which back in the 1950’s even a Seattle audience would have called self abuse.
Equipment failures complicated matters. During one selection Manzarek’s electric organ was dismantled and replaced.
The morose finale, “The End,” was stopped three minutes from its climax. Houselights were turned on. The sound was cut. A dazzled Morrison was led off the stage by one of his staff members. It was 12:05 a.m., time for the Coliseum to close.
The Doors had begun at 10:20; in the 1 ¾ hours Morrison had managed to mangle only nine selections—all old hits—only one of which managed to set off sparks.
The disappointed promoters said afterward it was not a typical concert. In the 14,000 seat Coliseum, they drew what was estimated as just over 4,000.