9 Nisan 2010 Cuma
Break On Through Article
It was just an exact same Sunday afternoon, like everybody used to do; the garbage man was collecting empty bottles, the kids were playing poker and one of them was just about to loose his last chip who’d probably take his girlfriend to a cheap-pornographic movie if he’d win, a mother was cleaning the dishes while she was imagining the handsome young army boys in the commercial she saw before the movie, her husband was chopping a tree and thinking roughly about last night’s game, how his team had been defeated by a last second shot, a dealer was selling his last weed for forty dollars to a young twenty year old girl who thought Mick Jagger was an asshole and there was a boy who was sitting in his room, smoking pot, listening to the radio and thinking about absolutely nothing! At this very exact casual and hot Sunday afternoon, the common point of all these people and the rest of the town which I cannot imagine to type it in lines was that, they all were listening somehow the station radio. No matter what they were caring for and how the sound was bumming into their ears, all of them were one of the members of thousand of people who’d presently listen the song that was a sandwich with a delight of certain respectful and tasty music correlations. The song was waiting in his mad wings in order to approach the town, like a big flash of lightning in the sky, shortly, but greatly pleased to be noisy.
The first specific sound had been known by Billy Higgins’s brazilian flavored drum opening, provided out of the blue, a triggering sound. The drum was like a short trailer of a mysterious movie that was distracting in seconds the whole attention of the town, like a blurry letter of a stranger that gives fear and curiosity at the same time. I could already imagine the coming thunder that would enlighten the town not with vision, but with mind. The following sound jumped off the page, suddenly, unexpected and without any hesitation, a familiar sound that had been known by Ray Charles, it contained all the characteristic features of a Latino piano base. The thunder continued to be louder and was ready to collapse with its own noise, like millions of dominos, to let fall down to the ground and be buried for good. And that was also the exact same time when it began to rain.
Even after tens of re-mastered releases, the song took up its characteristic position, aware of the fact that it was its first release. And it totally knew as much as anybody does, in no case, no matter where and how, it would never give the same enjoyment and experience compared to its first tune. In this light of awareness, it began to float up to the sky and turned back to the radio, and the third sound showed up, a young mad voice with a small number of lyrics, based on a day and night, destroy and divide, to run, to hide, to rip off and to be high, to simply break on through, and to be on the other side.
For no particular reason, somehow, people couldn’t imagine the sound as an act or movement, but as an ‘uninvited cabaret show’ that was moving forward into the town. When I lay down under the open sky and listen this song, I realize that each time I have to cut the bullshit and think despite all concrete facts that this sound was not invited. You can put this song into many different aspects or explanations; you can lean back in your seat and regard the lyrics as Michael Mc Clure said, “Exploration for consciousness through getting high, through strange psychedelics,” or regard through William Blake’s lines “The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”, or identify the voice of Jim’s as Sinatra, who used the same microphone with the same masculine attitude, not to prove the song, but to simply go forward of the unique fact that “It has been written and there you go, this is the show the audience is going to watch.” Some say the song is about a clash between prudence and incapacity, likely for the lines of “The day destroys the night, night divides the day.” A struggle with darkness that leads in the end to a mysterious, strange and shiny world, leading to the first symptom that would be inevitably active in many societies through a lost and hungry generation.
Before Jim’s lines, Robbie and Ray are locking on in one track together and this provides a suitable sound decision and prepares you conspicuously for the input of the lyrics. And all of sudden, you bump into a lunatic and masculine voice; a voice that has not something important to say, but to go further with Robby Krieger’s changing riff of a Paul Butterfield Song “Shake Your Moneymaker”.
What makes everything better and hard is that the song is short, like the British Invasion bands, The Animals or The Kinks who used to play mostly for about 3 minutes. And the harder part is in the lyrics, they repeat in the same angry voice but never end up in a last sentence that would give a conclusion about what the audience just listened about. And at this point, this ambiguous and cloudy mood turns into a big curiosity against Jim Morrison. He had somehow this patience and confidence both against the audience and to the other members of the band (especially to John Densmore who had a slight grudge against Morrison) that we all have a lot of time to understand each other and should enjoy the show in the most wildest way.
In the simplest sentence, Break On Through was a song like a zip file which contained all characteristic features of the mid-sixty’s arising generation. And don't forget: If you’re going to make a long trip, make sure you take along all your needs. It’s up to you with which songs you want to go along with, but make sure you take your toothbrush.