A tiresome album from a tiresome band full of their worst excesses - Morrison’s meandering sixth form poetry, shouting and moaning dressed up in pretension coupled with Manzarek’s wailing, screeching organ solos overpowering everything else on the track (which is a shame because the rest of the band are pretty solid). There’s the famous tracks you already know, plus plenty of filler, pale imitations of better blues rock or psychedelic rock where the doped up audience really are imagining The Doors are the key to unlocking the doors of perception, man. The problem is, you can accidentally be that but you can’t set out to be that. Stop trying so hard, guys. Can you imagine being at a gig where this happens?: ‘Morrison was well known for improvising spoken word poetry passages while the band played live.’ If this is his best un-improvised poetry I dread to think what his improvised work was like. Some choice morsels; ‘ Time to live/ Time to lie/ Time to laugh/ Time to die’ ‘ You know the day destroys the night / Night divides the day’ ‘ The days are bright and filled with pain/ Enclose me in your gentle rain’ ‘Here is Jane/ See Jane run’ Dont get me wrong - popular music can be totally disposable and throw away. It doesn’t have to be deep and meaningful. The problem here is that Morrison and the band think they and their music are deep and meaningful. The album concludes as you might imagine - with a ten minute plus self congratulatory number, an attempt at some long form jazz, not so much The End as When Will This End?