The eerie lyrics that inspired a wild conspiracy about Jim Morrison
The Doors are undeniably one of the most iconic bands of the 1960s and early 1970s, largely down to the flamboyance, talent, and remarkable songwriting of frontman Jim Morrison. Morrison’s lasting legacy extends beyond his musical and stylistic flair and has perhaps become more aligned with becoming one of the most prominent members of the ’27 Club’.
The singer died in July 1971 in Paris, found in the bath by his girlfriend, Pamela Courson. It was reported that Morrison’s cause of death was due to heart failure, but an autopsy was never performed, leading to global suspicions that continue today.
The case is an established conspiracy favourite, but the recent release of AppleTV+ docuseries Before the End: Searching for Jim Morrison, directed by Jeff Finn, has given light to a longstanding theory that Morrison is, in fact, still alive and living as a maintenance man. Whether or not these claims are true, his existential lyrics explored themes of mortality and managed to critique the conventional values surrounding it in a subtly jaunty way.
A line that is particularly suggestive of the theory comes from ‘Hyacinth House’, the seventh track off LA Woman, which was the band’s last release in Morrison’s documented lifetime. “I need a brand new friend who doesn’t trouble me / I need someone, yeah / that doesn’t need me, I see the bathroom is clear” is suggestive of aspiring for a life of greater solitude, and one where bathrooms or common places to be maintained, are desirable—an eerie foreshadowing of the unfolding theory.
An additional display of Morrison’s flair for the mystique comes from an unearthed archival video of him backstage at SPAC in September 1968, performing ‘Ode to Friedrich Nietzsche. The lyric, “They cried, and cried, and laughed, and looked at the sun, and everyone”, is a nod to existentialism and even a mockery of the bizarre connections people form with fame in the contemporary world.
The performance of this song was improvised, and for Morrison to conceive of such simple words with such complexities in their content is a testament to just how in touch he was with the allure of songwriting and living life—enough to spark multiple theories about his own.
These theories have only been fueled further by the 1978 record An American Prayer, which released Morrison’s poetry over the music of The Doors. It’s fair to say that ‘Ghost Song’ is an obvious nod to the passing of Morrison.
The lyrics, “And we laugh like soft, mad children / Smug in the woolly cotton brains of infancy / The music and voices are all around us”, almost acknowledge the possibility of devoted fans creating and being invested in theories which refuse to accept the loss of a musical genius. If anything, this displays Morrison’s transcendental knowledge in his prediction of public behaviours after death. Whether or not he is still kicking, one thing’s sure: he was always ahead of his time.
