Rock Bottom: Dark Moments In Music Babylon (36 page)
Read Rock Bottom: Dark Moments In Music Babylon Online
Authors: Pamela Des Barres
Jim Morrison’s mug shot in New Haven, Connecticut, after his arrest for “indecent and immoral exhibition.” What else was new? (POLICE SHOT)
During the recording of the third album, John Densmore quit the Doors because Jim was so drunk he was unable to sing, lying on the floor in his own urine. It didn’t last twenty-four hours. The Doors hired the first of Jim’s “caretakers,” people who followed him around attempting to keep him out of trouble. Needless to say, it didn’t work. The rest of the Doors had to tiptoe around their leader’s increasingly erratic lunacy. Almost every song on
Waiting for the Sun
took twenty takes. Jim tried to recite a rambling poem, “The Celebration of the Lizard King,” but was too wasted. “I am the lizard king!” he shrieked. “I can do anything!” His drinking pissed everybody off, so he drank more. He arrived at the studio with a motley assortment of scary hangers-on. He was late. He was very late. Sometimes he didn’t show up at all.
Waiting for the Sun
took twenty takes. Jim tried to recite a rambling poem, “The Celebration of the Lizard King,” but was too wasted. “I am the lizard king!” he shrieked. “I can do anything!” His drinking pissed everybody off, so he drank more. He arrived at the studio with a motley assortment of scary hangers-on. He was late. He was very late. Sometimes he didn’t show up at all.
Up until now, Jim had enjoyed the heady power he had created, but was getting edgy about the pressures of fame. He was the antithesis of his glamorous image and preferred the bleak anonymity of a cheap motel. He didn’t own anything (like a home), didn’t
want
to own anything, and constantly gave away any belongings he happened to accumulate. When he did buy clothes, he would leave his old ones behind as if he were shedding a skin. He carried one credit card and a torn-up driver’s license. Bored with the skintight Adonis image, he trimmed his long ringlets, gained weight, became bloated and pale. He felt that due to his fame, people had stopped being honest with him, and he was alone. In June of 1968 he actually tried to quit the band, saying, “It’s not what I want to do,” but was convinced to stay. The Doors caused riots out on the road. Jim crawled around on the floor, curled himself into a fetal position, and howled. Critics called him “mesmerizing,” “spell-binding,” “demonic.” There was a disastrous meeting with Janis Joplin at a pool party, and Jim was so brutally obnoxious, she wound up clobbering him over the head with her bottle of Southern Comfort. Paul Ferrara was there. “Janis and Jim were sitting on the couch, waiting their turns at pool, and they started arguing really loud, beating on each other, so we separated them. Then they were both gone and we heard a honking out in the driveway. We all ran out and Janis was beating Jim with a bottle in the front seat of the car.” Jim was disappointed when she didn’t want to see him again.
want
to own anything, and constantly gave away any belongings he happened to accumulate. When he did buy clothes, he would leave his old ones behind as if he were shedding a skin. He carried one credit card and a torn-up driver’s license. Bored with the skintight Adonis image, he trimmed his long ringlets, gained weight, became bloated and pale. He felt that due to his fame, people had stopped being honest with him, and he was alone. In June of 1968 he actually tried to quit the band, saying, “It’s not what I want to do,” but was convinced to stay. The Doors caused riots out on the road. Jim crawled around on the floor, curled himself into a fetal position, and howled. Critics called him “mesmerizing,” “spell-binding,” “demonic.” There was a disastrous meeting with Janis Joplin at a pool party, and Jim was so brutally obnoxious, she wound up clobbering him over the head with her bottle of Southern Comfort. Paul Ferrara was there. “Janis and Jim were sitting on the couch, waiting their turns at pool, and they started arguing really loud, beating on each other, so we separated them. Then they were both gone and we heard a honking out in the driveway. We all ran out and Janis was beating Jim with a bottle in the front seat of the car.” Jim was disappointed when she didn’t want to see him again.
A good friend of mine was there the night Jim crawled across the floor at New York’s Scene Club to the stage where Jimi Hendrix was playing. He wrapped himself around the guitarist and shouted, “I want to suck your cock!,” actually attempting to remove Jimi’s velvet trousers. “I was the guy who broke the thing up,” Paul Ferrara told me. “Poor Hendrix was trying to do his set, and his fans started beating Jim up. He was flailing and I gave him this massive bear hug, took him in my arms, and dragged him away.”
“Hello, I Love You” was the Doors’ first smash in Europe, and the tour went well until they reached Amsterdam and Jim took every drug that was
handed to him by enthusiastic fans. He gyrated wildly onstage for a minute or two, then collapsed into a heap and was taken to the hospital.
handed to him by enthusiastic fans. He gyrated wildly onstage for a minute or two, then collapsed into a heap and was taken to the hospital.
Waiting for the Sun
went gold the day it came out, and it looked as if the Doors were about to become “acceptable,” which irked and confused Jim. When critics barked that the Doors were going “commercial,” Jim needed to prove that he was more than a rock-and-roll commodity while he headlined the Forum. Assisted by his booze buddy, poet Michael McClure, Jim met with a literary agent, hoping to get his poetry published. The agent was very encouraging, which gave Jim the impetus to eventually publish it himself. Meanwhile the Doors worked on their documentary, and by the end of October Jim was devoting all of his time to editing
Feast of Friends.
went gold the day it came out, and it looked as if the Doors were about to become “acceptable,” which irked and confused Jim. When critics barked that the Doors were going “commercial,” Jim needed to prove that he was more than a rock-and-roll commodity while he headlined the Forum. Assisted by his booze buddy, poet Michael McClure, Jim met with a literary agent, hoping to get his poetry published. The agent was very encouraging, which gave Jim the impetus to eventually publish it himself. Meanwhile the Doors worked on their documentary, and by the end of October Jim was devoting all of his time to editing
Feast of Friends.
Todd Schifman was Jim’s booking agent and ally. “We had a line of communication that was pretty unique. I got to know his character pretty well. Because I wore a suit and tie, I think he was kind of surprised by my liberal ideas.” When I asked Todd about Jim’s relationship with Pam, he said he thought it was “abusive and unhealthy,” adding, “He was the sadist and she was the masochist … . Here’s an area where I hesitate … In private, at parties, I certainly got the impression that [Jim and another male celebrity] were involved in a full-blown relationship. I’ve been at social gatherings where they were a couple. Jim was not the dominant one.” I told Todd that perhaps bisexuality was just one more way for Jim to push the limits. “I think Jim was gay,” he said categorically. What about Pamela and Patricia? I asked. “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t gay. Those were not successful storybook relationships. And Pam always seemed like a little boy to me. I know for a fact that Jim was into being gay.”
Jim’s constant drinking was messing with his performances, the once-spontaneous collapses and falls becoming rote and predictable. Sometimes he could barely stand up, hanging on to the microphone, finally finishing the show from the floor. After a riot in Phoenix, the
Gazette
reported: “Blame it on the Doors, possibly the most controversial group in the world. Lead singer Jim Morrison appeared in shabby clothes and behaved belligerently. The crowd ate up Morrison’s antics, which included hurling objects … cussing and making rude gestures.” When Jim realized his words and music were taking second place to his terrifying persona, he tried to rein it in during a pivotal show at the Hollwood Bowl. He just sang his ass off. But the audience had expected a Doors freak show. There was no encore that night, and Jim bitterly accepted his fate. At a concert with the Who in Queens, New York, Jim went ballistic and was downright disgusting, chanting on about “a Mexican whore sucking my prick.” When he grabbed his dick and let out a scream of obscenities to a girl down front, her boyfriend responded by going for Jim with a chair and all hell broke loose. By the time it was over, all the Doors’ equipment was destroyed and twenty people were hospitalized. But Queens was just the foreplay for Miami.
Gazette
reported: “Blame it on the Doors, possibly the most controversial group in the world. Lead singer Jim Morrison appeared in shabby clothes and behaved belligerently. The crowd ate up Morrison’s antics, which included hurling objects … cussing and making rude gestures.” When Jim realized his words and music were taking second place to his terrifying persona, he tried to rein it in during a pivotal show at the Hollwood Bowl. He just sang his ass off. But the audience had expected a Doors freak show. There was no encore that night, and Jim bitterly accepted his fate. At a concert with the Who in Queens, New York, Jim went ballistic and was downright disgusting, chanting on about “a Mexican whore sucking my prick.” When he grabbed his dick and let out a scream of obscenities to a girl down front, her boyfriend responded by going for Jim with a chair and all hell broke loose. By the time it was over, all the Doors’ equipment was destroyed and twenty people were hospitalized. But Queens was just the foreplay for Miami.
While Jim struggled with his massive success, Pam dug it. Jim bought her a new XKE and spent $250,000 so she could run her own trendy boutique on Sunset Boulevard. She started taking cocaine and dabbling with heroin, which pissed Jim off. They had severe arguments but were too caught up in each other’s drama to make a move. Jim continued his downward drinking spiral. At a show at Madison Square Garden, Jim pointed to one side of the hall and said, “You are life,” then to the other side, “You are death,” then announced, “I straddle the fence—and my balls hurt.”
Along with friend Paul Ferrara, in February 1969 Jim attended several performances of the highly avant-garde Living Theatre, which really stirred him up. The performers interacted with the audience, agitating, confronting, and frightening them, finally ending the play by stripping down to loincloths and forming a pyramid that spelled out “ANARCHISM.” Jim was inspired and planned to add these confrontational tactics to his very next show—in Miami. “I think he was liberating himself, just the way he saw the Living Theatre do. We were totally blown away by the freedom,” Paul Ferrara told me. “He was about experimenting to the max. He was looking to open all the different doors. Scientific expedition—‘I’ll take six of these and see where I get.’ And he had this humongous secret life. I knew him as a devil and an angel at the same time. He couldn’t separate them. He was the most generous person I knew, but sometimes he did the angel thing, sometimes the devil thing.”
Jim on the floor—a typical place to find him. (MICHAEL MONTFORT/MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/ VENICE, CALIF.)
Somebody should have seen it coming. The capacity crowd was overcharged by the time the Lizard King finally made it to the stage with a mad gleam in his eye and so far gone that he probably couldn’t see. The Doors played some music, but their singer couldn’t hear it. “I’m not talking about a revolution!” he howled. “I’m talking about havin’ a
goooooood
time! Hey, listen! I’m lonely, I need some love, you all. Come on, I need some good times. I need some love-ah love-ah. Ain’t anybody gonna love my ass?” While the Doors gamely played behind him, Jim waited for a response to his plea. “Nobody gonna come up here and love me, huh? All right for you, baby, that’s too bad. I’ll get somebody else!” After a few words of “Five to One,” Jim began his confrontation. “You’re all a bunch of fucking idiots! Lettin’ people tell you what you’re gonna do! Lettin’ people push you around! … Maybe you love gettin’ your face stuck in the shit … . You’re all a bunch of fuckin’ slaves!” He hoarsely tried to sing, then shouted, “THERE ARE NO RULES!” He put down the state of Florida, and when a freak from L.A. handed Jim a lamb, he said, “I’d fuck her, you know, but she’s too young.” A few words of “Touch Me,” then the tirade continued. “Hey, wait a minute! Wait a
minute
! You blew it, you blew it! I’m not gonna take this shit! I’m coming out! I’m coming out!! FUCK YOU!” He grabbed a cop’s hat and sailed it into the audience, championing the Living Theatre. “I wanna get on the trip, I wanna change the world!” Over and over he repeated, “I wanna see some action out there!” Then “Let’s see a little skin. Let’s get naked! Grab your fuckin’ friend and love him! I’m talkin’ about some love! Love love love love love love love.” People started taking off their clothes, and then it happened: “Do you want to see my cock? You didn’t come here only for
music,
did you? You came for something else, didn’t you? WHAT IS IT? You want to see my cock, don’t you? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?! YEAAAAHHHH!” He then ripped off his shirt and started fiddling with his belt buckle. Nobody knew it, but Jim was wearing boxer shorts, planning to pull a “Living Theatre,” but when he started unbuckling his pants, a roadie came to the rescue and tried to stop it.
goooooood
time! Hey, listen! I’m lonely, I need some love, you all. Come on, I need some good times. I need some love-ah love-ah. Ain’t anybody gonna love my ass?” While the Doors gamely played behind him, Jim waited for a response to his plea. “Nobody gonna come up here and love me, huh? All right for you, baby, that’s too bad. I’ll get somebody else!” After a few words of “Five to One,” Jim began his confrontation. “You’re all a bunch of fucking idiots! Lettin’ people tell you what you’re gonna do! Lettin’ people push you around! … Maybe you love gettin’ your face stuck in the shit … . You’re all a bunch of fuckin’ slaves!” He hoarsely tried to sing, then shouted, “THERE ARE NO RULES!” He put down the state of Florida, and when a freak from L.A. handed Jim a lamb, he said, “I’d fuck her, you know, but she’s too young.” A few words of “Touch Me,” then the tirade continued. “Hey, wait a minute! Wait a
minute
! You blew it, you blew it! I’m not gonna take this shit! I’m coming out! I’m coming out!! FUCK YOU!” He grabbed a cop’s hat and sailed it into the audience, championing the Living Theatre. “I wanna get on the trip, I wanna change the world!” Over and over he repeated, “I wanna see some action out there!” Then “Let’s see a little skin. Let’s get naked! Grab your fuckin’ friend and love him! I’m talkin’ about some love! Love love love love love love love.” People started taking off their clothes, and then it happened: “Do you want to see my cock? You didn’t come here only for
music,
did you? You came for something else, didn’t you? WHAT IS IT? You want to see my cock, don’t you? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?! YEAAAAHHHH!” He then ripped off his shirt and started fiddling with his belt buckle. Nobody knew it, but Jim was wearing boxer shorts, planning to pull a “Living Theatre,” but when he started unbuckling his pants, a roadie came to the rescue and tried to stop it.
Nobody seems to know what happened next. “See it? Did you see it?” Jim asked the flabbergasted audience. “There are no rules, there are no limits!” he insisted. “C’mon, this is your show, anything you want, let’s do it!” and fans started to swarm the stage. He prowled through the frenzied crowd, pretending to masturbate; he got on his knees in front of Robby and, when he was knocked offstage, led a whip dance through the concert hall while several fights broke out. The Doors played a seething version of “Light My Fire” until the electricity had to be turned off. “Uh-oh,” Jim later said to manager Bill Siddons, “I think I might have exposed myself out there.”
Jim and the Doors missed the heated response to the show, flying out the
next day to the Caribbean, where Jim had a perfectly miserable time on his little holiday (without Pam—they were in another battle). When asked about the concert, Jim admitted he had been too drunk to remember what happened. Meanwhile warrants for Jim’s arrest were being drawn up in Miami. One felony—lewd and lascivious behavior (stating that Jim did “lewdly and lasciviously expose his penis and shake it … simulate acts of masturbation upon himself and oral copulation on another)—and three misdemeanors—“indecent exposure, open profanity, and drunkenness.” Headlines across America shouted GROSSED OUT BY THE DOORS and GET RICH QUICK—BE OBSCENE, proclaiming Jim “King of Orgasmic Rock.” The Doors were banned in concert halls all over the country, gigs were canceled, and they were dropped from radio playlists. Jim’s life had changed irrevocably, and he dragged the rest of the Doors along with him. Everything seemed to hinge on the trial. The band was never the same again.
next day to the Caribbean, where Jim had a perfectly miserable time on his little holiday (without Pam—they were in another battle). When asked about the concert, Jim admitted he had been too drunk to remember what happened. Meanwhile warrants for Jim’s arrest were being drawn up in Miami. One felony—lewd and lascivious behavior (stating that Jim did “lewdly and lasciviously expose his penis and shake it … simulate acts of masturbation upon himself and oral copulation on another)—and three misdemeanors—“indecent exposure, open profanity, and drunkenness.” Headlines across America shouted GROSSED OUT BY THE DOORS and GET RICH QUICK—BE OBSCENE, proclaiming Jim “King of Orgasmic Rock.” The Doors were banned in concert halls all over the country, gigs were canceled, and they were dropped from radio playlists. Jim’s life had changed irrevocably, and he dragged the rest of the Doors along with him. Everything seemed to hinge on the trial. The band was never the same again.
Jim turned himself in to the FBI on April 3, 1969, then buried what remained of his sex symbol status by growing a full beard, rarely bathing, wearing the same clothes endlessly. He began recording his poetry, worked on his own movie,
HWY,
about an aimless young hitchhiker, and waited for the trial. He and Pam moved to Beachwood Canyon. Life wasn’t much fun. Pam’s heroin use had escalated and she was trying to hide it. And Jim was drinking so much, he rarely satisfied her. “Some sex symbol,” she scrawled on the mirror in lipstick. “Can’t even get it up!” In a telling interview with Jerry Hopkins, Jim said that getting drunk was “a choice … . I guess it’s the difference between suicide and slow capitulation.”
HWY,
about an aimless young hitchhiker, and waited for the trial. He and Pam moved to Beachwood Canyon. Life wasn’t much fun. Pam’s heroin use had escalated and she was trying to hide it. And Jim was drinking so much, he rarely satisfied her. “Some sex symbol,” she scrawled on the mirror in lipstick. “Can’t even get it up!” In a telling interview with Jerry Hopkins, Jim said that getting drunk was “a choice … . I guess it’s the difference between suicide and slow capitulation.”
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