The Doors

Shaman, poet, lizard king--believe that guff and you'll miss a great pop band. Ass man, schlockmeister, cosmic slimeball--that's where Jim Morrison's originality lies, and he's never been better represented. Right beneath the back-door macho resides a weak-willed whine as El Lay as Jackson Browne's, and the struggle between the two would have landed him in Vegas if he hadn't achieved oblivion in Paris first. Compelling in part because he's revolting, Jimbo reminds us that some asss actually do live with demons. His three sidemen rocked almost as good as the Stones. Without him they were nothing. (Grade: A)