Waiting for the Sun
Album by The Doors
Released 3 July 1968
Psychedelic Rock
Produced by Paul A. Rothchild
Rating – 9/10
‘Waiting for the Sun’ is potentially The Doors’ most emotionally complex album.
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I’ve got to admit I’m very pleased to be writing about The Doors right now. At the time of writing, I’ve just gotten over a particularly harsh bout of back pain, so to go from that to discussing the work of one of my bands is a pretty nice improvement.
Why even mention this? Well, it works as appropriate exposition, because ‘Waiting for the Sun’ is often considered the breezier of The Doors’ six albums, so we get to have a nice old discussion about optimism. Or do we? Fair enough, love is a common subject of the album – the word itself appears in four song titles – but as highlighted in my recent ranking of Jim Morrison’s greatest vocal performances, ‘Five to One’ does exist, and in it exists a theme of militant hostility.
I ranked it top of my list of Lizard King performances because he channels the destruction that surrounds its lyrics by hurling his most crazed, throaty howl, itself a weapon of mass destruction, which itself is surrounded by crumbling, distorted instrumentation. The other war novella is the slightly more well-known ‘The Unknown Soldier’, which much like battle, comprises intentional unease as the song never settles on a specific tone or rhythm; Morrison is either whispering “wait until the war is over”, assembling drill sergeant commands or applying a peace symbol to his helmet whilst tripping balls.
There is a genuine degree of alarm, and realistically so given how superficial some may label Jim Morrison’s poetry. It exists in the concerning key changes of ‘Not to Touch the Earth’, recycled from super epic live piece ‘Celebration of the Lizard’, and hell, ‘Summer’s Almost Gone’ may appear laid-back, but cries of “we had some good times… but they’re gone” find themselves quite close to the bone. It opens with a scurrying stream of chords reminiscent of ‘The Crystal Ship’.
I guess there’s a mix of emotional extremities, which makes ‘Waiting for the Sun’ a fairly schizophrenic album. I love it for this very reason, and I’m quite fond of when the band switches it up, and even if alcohol drips off his lips during, Morrison is a very capable of romanticising.
‘We Could Be so Good Together’ might be the only song that homes in on 100% breezy; a gangly-legged love song with mostly unassuming lyrics – “we could be so good together, yeah we could, I know we could”. How sappy and laughable, it’s a weirdly cute song.
‘Love Street’ is a poetic upgrade, containing off-kilter spoken word rambles from Morrison, and vivid imagery such as “she has robes and she has monkeys / lazy diamond studded flunkies”. I guess it’s the kind of song a messed-up, boozy lounge singer may belt out while draping himself in foolish seriousness, albeit well-meaning and sentimental.
Likewise, ‘Wintertime Love’ is a fluffy waltz; a reminder that Jim Morrison was often at his best when appearing like a town crier that accidentally time travelled and wandered onto a function room stage – a similar vibe to ‘Touch Me’.
And of course, a track with the title ‘Hello, I Love You’ was always likely to be sweet. There’s a little more of a thud to it, mind you, particularly through its fuzzed-up keyboard riff, and weirdo key change section that sees Morrison yell “sidewalk crouches at her feet / like a dog that begs for something sweet”. I’ll address the elephant in the room; the verse sections do sound like The Kinks’ ‘All Day and All of the Night’, but who cares?
Other objects thrown into the roaring fire of emotions include the weighty chord influxes that ambush the verses of ‘Yes, the River Flows’; the calls-and-responses between Morrison and staccato rhythms that occupy ‘Spanish Caravan’, alongside an organ solo that resembles ‘Light My Fire’; and ‘My Wild Love’, which is a time-killing chant that serves no purpose but to break up the album, and it accomplishes that by being annoying.
If there is a mishap in the album’s design, maybe one could accuse The Doors of not necessarily knowing what form they wanted to assume on ‘Waiting for the Sun’. In my estimation, it works out for the better; it’s a rattled, indecisive album – much like Queen’s ‘Sheer Heart Attack’, there’s a title track that appears on a different album – but one that is only so indecisive because it takes influence from every extreme of every emotional spectrum. I suppose he is the lizard king, therefore he can do anything.
Or maybe it’s just another late ‘60s psychedelic rock album. But no, The Doors were always far more maddened than the sunshine pop crowd, even when at their brightest and breeziest.
Best tracks – ‘Hello, I Love You’ – ‘Love Street’ – ‘Wintertime Love’ – ‘The Unknown Soldier’ – ‘Five to One’.
Weakest track – ‘My Wild Love’.
Rating – 9 out of 10
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