According to legend he wasn’t very keen on hygiene back in the day. I kinda doubt if the passing years will have sweentened the pot any.
What a band though.

Did someone say pot?

There are Doors fans?

There are Doors fans?
hell yeah, ok? even my kids’ generation appreciates the Doors.

I’m not a “fan,” per se, but I do like a few of their tunes.

Come on, tell me there is a finer moment in cinema that when a sweaty Martin Sheen is drunkenly careening around a Vietnamese hotel room while Jim Morrison intones, This is the end...

Hey man, listen up. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. You know that new Depeche Mode album? It sucks. You know what? That new Cure album? It sucks. That new Happy Mondays album? I don’t know if there is one, but if there is, it sucks. I can say this ‘cause I know. ‘Cause I’m a Doors fan. And you know, if you want to be a Doors fan, you know what? You might already be one, and you don’t even know it. You know, sort of like being gay, you’re walking around, you know something’s up, you just don’t know what it is. You see, Doors fans aren’t made, they’re born.

I’ll bet right now, in Africa, there’s some guy madly beatin’ on a drum; he’s one. Or an old lady on a bus, suckin’ humbugs; she’s a Rider on The Storm, and she don’t even know it. I do… ‘Cause I’m a Doors fan.

And if you want to be a Doors fan, don’t just go buy a greatest hits album. Greatest Hits albums are for housewives and little girls. You want to be a Doors fan, you gotta do it right. It’s very scientific. You gotta buy Waiting For The Sun. It’s their third album, but really it’s their first. We call it the departure point.

Okay, Quick quiz: Who’s on bass? No bass. That’s right. The Doors had no bass. You see, the gypsies had no homes. Don’t let that scare you, let that free you. Let that liberate you. ‘Cause when you’re free-flying with the Doors, man, you don’t need no safety net. If you scream, “Viva la Doors!” loud enough for your landlord to start thumpin’ on the walls, then you might in fact be a Doors fan.

There’s one way to know for absolute sure. Get an eight-track tape of LA Woman -there’s only a few in existence- and steal a car. Even if you own one, steal a car. Get in that car, play the tape, full blast, and drive West. When the tape ends, get out, and go to the nearest bar, and start to play pool, or pinball, or possibly even foosball, and wait to get into a fight. Afterwards, get back into that car, and drive till it runs out of gas. Then, torch it. And if, as you’re standing there, watching those flames, if you can still hear the Doors sound, you will have become a Doors fan. You wanna know how I know? You wanna know who told me? Well, last year, Jim fuckin’ Morrisson told me, that’s who. He came to me, ‘cause I’m a Doors fan. I’m a Doors fan, man… man, I love their sound. I like the Doors.

Credit to Bruce McCulloch/Atlantic Records

Oh and I meant to add:

“he wasn’t very keen on hygiene back in the day”

I doubt it’s improved much, really.