How ‘Light My Fire’ became The Doors’ true ensemble classic
When most people think of The Doors, the first thing that probably comes to mind is the image of the hedonistic, Dionysian icon Jim Morrison in all of the leather, machismo and excess that goes with it.
Personally, my favourite thing about The Doors is the music they make, and I could happily live without either the lyrics or vocals of Jim Morrison, but because of his deification, and the legend that surrounds him and his early death, the three other equally interesting characters in the band behind him, in the form of Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger and John Densmore, sometimes get overshadowed.
People also seem to forget that, as Morrison’s cult of personality grew, so did his impact on the band’s direction, but when they had started out, they were a much more collaborative unit, and no song sums the group up or better showcases their collective talents more than their second single, ‘Light My Fire’.
Following hot on the heels of their debut ‘Break on Through (To the Other Side)’, and what a first couple of songs that is to introduce yourself to the world with, keyboard and organ extraordinaire Manzarek later explained how ‘Light My Fire’ was actually the first song that Krieger had ever written, but that the finished track was really a collective labour of love for the band.
Manzarek added that Krieger originally brought it to the group as a “kind of folk song”, until drummer Densmore suggested that they try it in a more adventurous style, saying, “Let’s do a Latin thing”, and promptly began to play a more swinging, South American drum pattern; it’s no wonder that José Feliciano fell so in love with the song and recorded his own wonderful version the following year. Densmore had similarly suggested trying a bossa nova beat on the previous single ‘Break on Through’ as he was heavily into the emerging scene coming out of Brazil at the time.
“Morrison puts the second verse on”, Manzarek revealed, “‘Our love becomes a funeral pyre’, of course, death enters the equation again, and then I put on the introduction”. And, as easy as that, the four bandmates had come up with one of the most iconic, recognisable and loved songs of all time.
What the musicians do on the track is nothing short of phenomenal. Manzarek plays the keys like a man absolutely possessed, and Densmore’s drumming is so locked in, driving and tight, with the snare shot that opens the song recalling the one that opens up the world on ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’ by The Beach Boys from the year earlier in 1966, or the opening drum hit of Bob Dylan’s ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ from 1965, which Bruce Springsteen so memorably later described as sounding like it “kicked open the door to your mind”.
The way the song swells and ebbs and recedes and flows and comes back to the boil is a miracle of synchronicity between the bandmates, and especially between the dual guitar and organ from Krieger and Manzarek. They’re each playing out of their skins, and the way the band locks back into the intro at around the five-minute 25-second mark is one of those moments in a song that make you fall in love with all of music by itself.
Add to all of that Morrison’s cooler than cool vocals, and you’ve got yourself a perfect mix of sounds, lyrics and an act at the very peak of their powers.
