The Cavalier daily :: Thursday, March 5, 1970 :: University of Virginia Library

The appearance of new
recordings by T Doors and John
Mayall was met with a vague sense
of skepticism by me, but for
different reasons in each case. Jim
Morrison and company have
suffered a widespread and very
public degeneration in recent years,
through their musical regression (as
witnessed in "Soft Parade") and the
violent press reaction to Morrison's
on-stage antics in Miami last year.
John Mayall, on the other hand,
produced one of the finer albums
of 1969 in "Turning Point," and I
doubted that he could successfully
follow up that effort.

"Morrison Hotel" is the title of
The Doors latest, and you can
forget all of the bad hype and
commercialism of the past, for The
Doors have put out a superb
package in this release. The album
is driving rock and blues, and
features vocal and instrumental
restraint that is The Doors at their
best. Morrison's voice has never
been so clear and mellow. Likewise,
Robbie Kreiger has never shown
such clean guitar styling, while Ray
Manzarek continues his competent
keyboard work and John Densmore
plays his usual raggedy drums that
somehow manage to come in at just
the precise time.

The album is extremely well
balanced, without a really "weak"
cut to be found, yet there is no
"standout" number either. The
totality of each song is what makes
this record, and it is probably the
first time since their debut album
that Morrison et al have achieved
such a unified sound. Cuts such as
"Roadhouse Blues," "You Make
Me Real," "Queen of the
Highway," and "The Spy"
exemplify this concept, with subtle
interplay of guitar, organ and bass.
"Waiting For The Sun," "Indian
Summer," and "Maggie M'Gill" are
reminiscent of part Doors' efforts;
the former being as heavy as the
"Strange Days" LP, the latter as
raunchy as any of the early Doors'
songs. My personal favorites are
"Peace Frog," with some great
phrasing and excellent guitar work
by Krieger, and "Land Hol," a
rollicking, driving number that
again shown off Krieger's guitar
playing.

John Mayall is probably (and
unfortunately) best known to most
as a man whose groups have
included such individuals as Eric
Clapton, Jack Bruce, Mick Taylor,
and the list goes on and on,
resembling a "Who's Who" of
popular music. He is the foremost
figure of British blues as well, and
has done as much as any one
musician could to bring to
popularity the great blues artists of
both this country and his own.
Now at thirty-five, Mayall has
developed a very individual sound,
and featuring his own material has
gained popularity and respect on
his own merits.

Mayall has dispensed with the
heavy lead guitar so dominant in
blues groups today and with drums
as well, replacing them with Jon
Mark's fingerstyle guitar and
Johnny Almond on flute and
saxophones. His first album with
this group, "Turning Point" was
recorded live and featured
harmonica and sax solos over a
strong rhythm provided by Mark
and Steve Thompson's bass. The
new effort, "Empty Rooms" is a
studio work, and represents
Mayall's attempt at capturing the
feeling of loneliness in an
individual's life. It has tremendous
strengths and occasional glaring
weaknesses.

The tone of the album is
subdued and quiet with more
emphasis on vocalization than is
usual with the group. I dig Mayall's
voice, but not on a soft, slow
ballad, such as "Don't Pick A
Flower," nor can I see the point of
tracking himself six times on
"Thinking of My Woman," which
comes out more harsh than
anything else. These are the only
two cuts, though, that don't come
up to the normal Mayall excellence,
and, "Don't Waste My Time,"
"Waiting for the Right Time,"
"When I Go" and "To a Princess"
are superb. The latter features
Larry Taylor (late of Canned Heat)
and Steve Thompson playing a
double bass line around Mayall's
piano lead.

Johnny Almond has some great
solos on the album; tenor sax on
"Something New" and "Waiting
For The Right Time," and flute on
"Counting the Days." Mayall
demonstrates his unparalleled harp
work on "When I Go" and "Many
Miles Apart." The last cut on the
album, "Lying In My Bed," is an
all Mayall instrumentalization (he
plays five instruments on it) with
his spoken voice tracked over it all.
The words are intensely personal
and emotional, and while the whole
thing would seem to be
overbearingly pretentious, Mayall
carries it off eloquently. The whole
of "Empty Rooms" is an eloquent
statement, and while not as
mind-blowing as "Turning Point,"
still represents a musically cogent
and worthwhile effort.