I Hate This Song With A Passion
I just received an e-mail this morning asking me and, therefore, our radio stations here at Townsquare Media Shreveport/Bossier City to help commemorate the 50-year anniversary of the release of one of the most iconic songs in rock history. The headline reads "Play Light My Fire at 7:29 on 7/29".
Not gonna happen.
I mean, a 50th anniversary is a big deal and all, but I absolutely loathe Light My Fire and the band that recorded it.
Like a fine wine, some songs just get better with age. Hotel California by Eagles, Metallica's Enter Sandman, Crazy Train by Ozzy.
Light My Fire by The Doors is simply an anachronism, stuck in the 60's with LSD and tie-dye t-shirts.
Just those opening notes on Ray Manzarek's Hammond B-3 organ make the hackles on the back of my neck stand up. Most of the time I'm able to avoid it, but a couple of times a year it unexpectedly attacks my ears. I'll be driving through a town listening to the local classic rock station when, like a prowling lion, Light My Fire suddenly springs without warning into my car. When it does, my catlike reflexes are on display as the station is changed in the blink of an eye.
What's unfathomable to me is why The Doors are still played on classic rock stations. To me, they were a pure pop band like their contemporaries The Monkees and The Mamas and Papas. Today they just sound like some lounge act that you'd hear on a cruise ship filled with 80-year-olds. I can just hear Jim Morrison saying, "Be sure to tip your bartenders and waitresses..."
So, though some will celebrate Light My Fire's 50th birthday tomorrow, I will not be among the celebrants. I will celebrate when the fire is finally put out. Or put out to pasture. Or put out of its misery. (You get the idea.)