The song Carol Kaye wanted to pretend she didn’t play on: “I think it’s stupid”
To the outside world, Jim Morrison is hailed as a countercultural icon. For those who had the chance to work with him more closely, however, the gleam of that stardom often wore thin. Just ask Carol Kaye.
She may not be the first person that immediately springs to mind in these sorts of situations, but in many ways, the prolific session musician can probably offer a more accurate eye to the truth of the industry in those heady rock and roll days than most – not least because she is one of a rare few who actually has a clear memory of the timeline of events. Kaye is also undeniably a rock icon in her own capacity, but that didn’t mean she followed the rest of the crowd in terms of the famed lifestyle.
As much as she has played on more seismic hits than you could ever shake a stick at, it seemed, back in the day, that Kaye’s proclivity for rock started and ended within the walls of the recording studio, and extended no further into other areas of affectation in her life. It was a job, when all was said and done, and that was something which a selection of the genre’s biggest stars seemed to lose sight of. Morrison and his mates were obviously not the only offenders, yet they were some of the most hedonistic.
In this sense, even though Kaye has every right to be inordinately proud of her gargantuan body of work, her brushes with The Doors were always ones that left her with a slightly sour taste, simply because their ideals differed so much from her own. Although being a pioneer of psychedelia would be a badge of honour that many would wear with absolute pride, it wasn’t a train on which Kaye was quick to jump aboard from its advent in the ‘60s. In her eyes, due to this context, the supposed genius of ‘Light My Fire’ was more of a smouldering mess.
When asked what the experience of working with the band was like, many would have pined for some sort of kaleidoscopic, worldly answer. “Well, the Doors weren’t there,” Kaye instead deadpanned. “Just a couple of the guys were there in the booth. We cut the track (‘Light My Fire’). I’m playing on that, but I don’t like to talk about it because there’s too many fanatics about that stuff.”
It was pretty patent that the “stuff” Kaye alluded to was the old cornerstones of drink and drugs, of course indulged in by all The Doors, but most keenly consumed by Morrison.
She wasn’t a fan. “I’m a prude. I don’t do drugs. I think it’s stupid,” she said.
“I think for people to be into drugs and to die on stage, I think that’s so stupid and totally unnecessary. So I stay away from even talking about that. But I am on the contract. Yeah, I played on the hit of that,” Kaye continued, hurriedly moving the conversation forward. It was clearly a case of a mantra which didn’t match up with her own; a sort of gimmick she could easily see through. To some, it was the birth of counterculture – to others, it was a sign of throwing your life down the drain.
Of course, it’s a pretty bleak way to paint the picture of a movement which stormed the world in all its technicolour glory, and left more than a few heads spinning. But when you’re someone like Kaye, who’s seen many musicians pass through the door and perhaps squander their potential through the blinding lights of drugs, it’s simple to see why she would have such a view. The Doors were far from a blight on rock and roll, but in terms of her career, they were a credit she would rather be left unspoken.
