Bands That ‘Sound Like’ Jim Morrison and the Doors
Not ‘Manzarekesque’ by keyboards but ‘Morrisonesque’ in vocals . . . well, maybe a little of both: 32 bands from the ’60s and ’70s
Editor’s Note: While this essay can be read in a single sitting, it is intended for bookmarking and return reading at one’s leisure.
One could go days on end debating bands that “sound like the Doors” . . . especially with today’s modern rock bands featuring “Generation Y” (born 1981–1996) musicians: the Millennial Generation offspring of “Generation X” (1965–1980), as well as “Generation Z” (1997–2012) born musicians¹ who analogously revere Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain as did their Baby Boomer ancestors (1946-1964) and Generation X’ers with John Lennon and, well, Jim Morrison. (Elvis, while a wonderful singer and entertainer: was he a “voice of a generation” with his tales of love and loss?)
Yes, Ray Manzarek was instrumental in shaping the intelligent, yet undisciplined Jim Morrison’s lyrics and voice into a hit-song structure, and Robby Krieger, not Jim, wrote “Light My Fire,” (also not José Feliciano: he covered the song in 1968; the Doors charted in 1967) as well as “Touch Me,” both which reached the U.S “Top 5” to become quintessential songs of the 1960s. No music consultant programming a film soundtrack companion emulating the era is not using the Doors — especially Krieger’s penned, chilling tunes — to instill a little “Flower Child” nostalgia in the viewer.
As time has shown: Regardless of Ray Manzarek’s and Robby Krieger’s composition and arranging talents: lacking Jim Morrison’s vocal prowess, the Doors’ post-L.A Woman (1971) efforts Other Voices (1971) and Full Circle (1972) were not the hit albums they could have been if Morrison were present. The same could be debated with Robby Krieger and John Densmore’s post-Doors concern, the Butts Band, which released two albums in 1974 and 1975, each employing singers who auditioned to replace Jim Morrison. Manzarek going it alone without Krieger and Densmore — even with the likes of respected guitarists Larry Carlton and Joe Walsh across two albums (Mercury Records; 1974) — fared worse at radio and retail.
Perhaps, prior to the Doors’ failed, two-album tenure as a Jim-less trio with Manzarek and Krieger sharing lead vocal duties, if British solo vocalist Terry Reid of the Jayhawks (toured with Cream and the Rolling Stones) hadn’t turned them down to assuage his solo ambitions (Cheap Trick’s “Speak Now (Or Forever Hold Your Peace)” is a Terry Reid song). If the post-Jim death rehearsals of Michael Stull of Elektra Records’ the Wackers — which were part of Bill Siddons’ management stable alongside the Doors — had bore fruit. Perhaps, if the Doors relocating to England to audition British vocalists Howard Werth, Jess Roden, and Kevin Coyne of the respective bands Audience (signed to Elektra Records; 1969 to 1972), Bronco (Island and Polydor Records; 1969 - 1973), and Siren (signed to Elektra Records in the U.S; 1969–1971), worked (yes, it’s debated if Coyne did or did not).
Then again: Would it have worked?
While Ray and Robby had their moments, it’s important to note: Stull, Werth, and Roden (and Coyne) didn’t sound like Jim, either— and maybe that was the whole point: any from that audition-quartet were certainly more vocally adept. Then there’s Detroit’s mysterious Ted “The Phantom” Pearson: The most Morrisonseque of the five singers slipping through the Doors’ transom to the other side, debated as have “joining” or just guesting with the band on July 3, 1974. Until Iggy Pop (the sixth) “became” the new lead vocalist amid all those band configuration shenanigans with Detroit and L.A musicians out at Manzarek’s Wonderland Avenue residence (that bore the likes of Ron Asheton and Jimmy Recca of The Stooges, and Dennis Thompson of the MC5 as New Order, while Iggy with fellow Stooge James Williamson recorded the Kill City demos).
So, Krieger and Densmore went with Jess Roden — the vocalist they wanted for the Doors that Manzarek rejected — as the lead vocalist on the 1974, self-titled debut by the Butts Band; Micheal Stull took over the lead vocal spot for their sophomore and final album, 1975’s Hear and Now. Their unfortunately-chosen moniker not withstanding — allegedly named after a cave in the Butts Quarry outside of Sheffield, England, where a previous band of Roden’s practiced — would the presence of Ray Manzarek’s grinding, swirling kaleidoscope keyboard arrangements — and less Krieger and Densmore’s Caribbean reggae n’ Indian subcontinent raga influences without his input — have made a difference?
Today, music lovers — Doors fans, natch — critically deal with every modern band featuring baritone vocals classified as “Doorsesque” (in keyboards or vocals — or both): Sorry, but Creed with Scott Stapp, along with the Cult and Ian Asbury, as well as Scott Weiland with Stone Temple Pilots (despite their respective recruitment for post-Morrison Doors’ reunions), Pearl Jam and Eddie Vedder, Screaming Trees and Mark Lanegan, Soundgarden with Chris Cornell (Which is it: Led Zeppelin or the Doors?), and U2 and Bono are just a “No” on the list. Echo and the Bunnymen and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds harbor “Manzarekesque” keyboards and a “Morrisonesque” voice: they advance to “Go” for $200 bucks. The Joy Division, courtesy of Ian Curtis because, it’s Ian Curtis . . . but will one let the gothic sounds of Britain’s Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy on the list for the vocals and arrangements: yes, because each sound like a natural progression of the Doors if Jim had not died (or a Jim solo career).
In classic rock circles: San Diego’s Iron Butterfly, courtesy of Doug Ingel’s dual Manzarek-Morrison prowess on both keyboards and vocals — not just prevalent on their biggest hit, “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida,” but across their entire 1966 to 1971 catalog — rises to the top of the list. One can certainly imagine Jim Morrison howling “Born to Be Wild” and “The Pusher” in place of John Kay for Los Angeles’ Steppenwolf, but not so much with San Francisco’s in-constant-upheaval, lacking-consistency Quicksilver Messenger Service and Los Angeles’ the Seeds — where the similarities end with Manzarek-like keyboards and not Jim’s voice; however, San Francisco’s the Chocolate Watchband has that Manzarek bluesy, chug-a-chug-chug shuffle to show for it.
The most blatant of those familiar, classic rock-era bands is, of course, the Iggy Pop-fronted the Stooges, as this parody-respectful “Mash Up” of “Soul Kitchen” by the Doors (Morrison’s vocals) with the Stooges’ “No Fun” (vocals, instrumental), proves. In his essay, “It’s 1969, OK! A Half-Century of The Stooges,” from August 2019 on the digital pages of Rock and Roll Globe, Trouser Press music critic Bill Kopp correctly opined that “Ann,” from the Stooges’ eponymous debut, “sounds like the Stooges doing a Doors parody”—additionally reminding us that Stooges’ debut album package itself was deceptive: “Most every visual element — the style of photography, the positioning of the band members in the shot, inclusion of a band logo as a design element, the layout — was shamelessly copied from the debut release of Elektra labelmates the Doors.” (Hey, didn’t the Knack do that on their Capitol debut album to Capitol’s Beatles?) Then there’s the oft-opined fact that Elektra Records remixed the 45-rpm version of the Stooges’ “Down in the Street” by shaving off the song’s ratty, garage-rock edges, adding more “Manzarek-styled organ” — an effort to give the record a more “Doors-like vibe” and push the band as Detroit’s answer to Los Angeles’ the Doors.
In today’s modern rock epoch: We have the Doorsesque the Allah-Las (also compared to the Doors’ ’60s contemporaries the Kinks, Arthur Lee and Love, the Yardbirds, and the Zombies), the Bash Dogs, the Black Angels, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Brian Jonestown Massacre, and Chicano Batman (back and forth on either arrangements or vocally depending on songs/opinion), Austin, Texas, acid-rock revisionists the Cuckoos, Father John Misty (on Seattle’s Sub Pop Records), Florence + the Machine (arrangements), the Flying Eyes (both; but more for very-Jim gloomy vocals), Foxygen (gloomy keyboards; not vocals), and the California “beach goth” of the Growlers. Then there’s Sam Beam’s music de plume Iron & Wine, Melbourne, Australia’s Jacques Smut and the Acid, Chicago’s psych-dream poppers, Mile High Club (more arrangements than vocals), the keyboard-driven Mr. Elevator & the Brain Hotel, the duo People’s Blues of Richmond, the Latin-flavored Rider Negro from Mexico, Sweden’s the Soundtrack of Our Lives, and Canada’s the Tea Party.
Back in the alt-rock 1990s: U.S college radio had Melbourne, Australia’s Dead Can Dance, the Front-to-aka Baker’s Pink from Kansas City, Jeff Conolly’s the Lyres from Boston, Pennsylvania’s college-rockers Marshmallow Overcoat and California’s Mazzy Star (arrangements, less vocals), the garage-rock scrappy the Original Sins (more the Seeds than Doors; but many say the Seeds are Doorsesque, even though the Seeds came first), Southern California’s “Paisley Underground” pop-rockers Opal (arrangements, not vocals), and U.K punkers the Stranglers (more for keyboard grinding, but a touch of Jim-baritone vocals). The U.K’s post-punk gothic rock movement of the late ’70s — without Jim Morrison crooning about “The End” and “Not Touching the Earth,” and waiting for suns and lamenting about unknown soldiers — would never have happened.
So, to commemorate the 54th anniversary of Jim Morrison’s July 3, 1971, death, as well as celebrate what would be his 82nd birthday in 2025, come this December 8th (ironically, the day John Lennon was assassinated), let’s reminisce with 32 “classic rock” bands from the ’60s and ’70s. We’re going deep with the doom n’ gloomy obscure Morrisonesque, Manzarekesque, or all-encompassing Doorsesque sounds from the likes of Britain’s High Tide, Boston’s Omnibus, the private-press artists Circuit Rider, Fraction, Lucifer, and Wicked Lady, and the even more blatant, U.S garage bands Hoppi & the Beau Heems and the Source.
A curated playlist featuring a song or two from each of these artists follows; those You Tube streams offer an album cover image. The hyperlinks on each artist’s name offers a photograph of the band. Reference material links within each entry will afford a reader’s deeper examination of each artist.
1. Arcadium
2. Arzachel
3. Blessed End
4. Bloodrock
5. Blue Mountain Eagle
6. The Bob Seger System
7. Bridges
8. Can
9. C.A Quintet
10. Circuit Rider
11. Cliff Morrison and the Lizard Sun Band
12. Crystal Chandelier
13. Douglas Fir
14. Dragonwyck
15. Fever Tree
16. Fraction
17. High Tide
18. Hoppi & the Beau Heems
19. Lucifer
20. The Loose Enz
21. Nite City
22. October Country
23. Omnibus
24. Orpheus
25. One St. Stephen
26. Phantom
27. The Quill
28. Rare Bird
29. The Source
30. SRC
31. Ultimate Spinach
32. Wicked Lady
1. Arcadium (London, U.K, 1969)
One listen to this lone album by 12-string guitarist and lead vocalist Miguel Sergides’s London-based concern and it’s agreed: this psychedelic effort is an amalgamate of Iron Butterfly (themselves with a critically-opined, Doors-vibe), Vanilla Fudge, and the Doors; others will add the U.S band Spirit and the U.K’s Procol Harum to the critique mix. Yes, the critics are correct: All of Jim’s anguished, doomsday lyrics are present: more so on the album’s opening cut, “On My Way,” while other cuts are overly-indulgent, typical of the times.
Original copies of the rare album issued on the small Middle Earth-imprint (part of the Pye/Janus axis)— a label with a discography of five albums and five singles total — go for over $500. The official compact disc-version was issued in 2003.
Miguels Sergides returned in the late ’70s with the soft-rock jazzy Savanna Silver Band. After a stint in Arthur Brown’s post-Crazy World concern, Kingdom Come (that migrated to Detroit under Victor Peraino’s tutelage), guitarist Robert Ellwood appeared the U.K glam bands Sisters (recorded for Bell, Warner Bros., and Philips Records), Footsie, and Spix’ N Spax.
Thanks to Hard Hertiage, Prog Rock Archives, and Seventies Sevens.
2. Arzachel (London, U.K, 1968–1969)
As with Arcadium: Arzachel is another one-album concern, this one counting Canterbury scene guitarist Steve Hillage, best known to prog-rock fans of the bands Khan and Gong. By 1974, organist Dave Stewart became a member of fellow Canterbury band, Hatfield and the North.
It all began with Uriel in 1967, which changed their name to Egg when Steve Hillage departed for college. Since Egg had just signed a deal with Decca in May 1969, and as another label offer came in, Steve Hillage returned and “Uriel” recorded their lone album as Arzachel (named after a moon crater named after a Spanish astronomer).
As for the Doorsesque argument: Does the vocals of Steve Hillage have a Morrison-vibe: sure. Does Dave Stewart’s organ arrangements have a Manzarek swirl: sure. If one is familiar with the complexities of the Canterbury scene: Bands in were in a constant state of flux with overlapping memberships that produced a wealth of similar-sounding, overly improvisational configurations: their amalgams of jazz and rock lacked the commercialized structure that producer Paul Rothchild provided the Doors. So, without Rothchild reining them in: Morrison and company would have went on Arzachel’s crazed flights of fancy.
The subject of several pirated versions, Arzachel’s lone effort was officially reissued on compact disc in 1994 by Demon Records; in 2007, keyboardist Dave Stewart officially reissued the album to compact disc under the Uriel name with Arzachel becoming the album’s title. Egg remained active from 1968 to 1972, and reformed in 1974, during which time three studio albums were released on Deram and Caroline Records.
Thanks to the Prog Rock Archives.
3. Blessed End (Philadelphia, PA, USA, 1969–1970)
If Mick Jagger and Keith Richards are “The Glimmer Twins” and Steven Tyler and Joe Perry are “The Toxic Twins,” then Blessed End vocalist Doug Teti and keyboardist Steve Quinzi have the “The Downer Twins” vibe of Morrison and Manzarek mastered.
As with quite a few albums on this list: Blessed End’s lone album, Movin’ On (1971), was a 1000-copy private press effort that garnered no major label interests. The haunting vocals of Doug Teti and keyboardist Steve Quinzi gone, guitarist Jim Shugarts, bassist Ken Carson, and drummer Mike Petrylak formed the trios Free Beer and Argus. Blessed End regrouped in 1998 for a series of Pennsylvania shows to commemorate the compact disc reissue of their album by U.S retro-label Gear Fab Records.
In terms of the most-Doorsy of the bunch: none of the cuts are a standout over another in terms of their Dooriness.
Thanks to Rockasteria (their video embed provides photos).
4. Bloodrock (Fort Worth, TX, USA, 1963–1975)
Out of the ashes of the Naturals and originally known as Crowd + 1, until Grand Funk Railroad producer and manager Terry Knight was looking to replicate that Detroit band’s success . . . yet: they are more Doorsy than Railroad to be sure.
So, since Bloodrock had two vocalist: Drummer Jim Rutledge on the first four albums issued between 1970 to 1971 (he gave up the drums as a dedicated vocalist on the second) and guitarist Warren Ham on the fifth and sixth-final: Who’s the Jim replicate? In the context of the Doors: Jim Rutledge has the analogous baritone howl.
The debut, Bloodrock 1 (1970), is the most Doors-gloomy of the bunch, with Bloodrock 2 (1971) the most commercial-sounding courtesy of its U.S “Top 25” hit, “D.O.A.” By the time guitarist Warren Ham replaced Rutledge, Bloodrock morphed into a keyboard-heavy, jazzy progressive rock outfit (that reminds this critical ear of Uriah Heep). No one song from the Rutledge era stand out over the other as being more Morrisonesque than the other, but “D.O.A” certainly has the vibe with its Vietnam-era connection.
Thanks to Texas State Historical Association.
5. Blue Mountain Eagle (Austin, TX, USA, 1969)
This entry ties into a later entry spotlighting the Doors-influenced, San Diego, California’s the Source fronted by Richard Bowen (entry #29). It’s also one of the weakest Doorsesque arguments opined. When compared to Bloodrock — even weaker.
While Atco/Atlantic released two-failed singles from their eponymous album, “Sweet Mama” and “Marianne,” the band’s best known song, “Trivia Sum,” comes courtesy of it being co-written by lead guitarist Terry Furlong of the then chart-topping the Grass Roots. While the writing and arranging sound nothing like the Doors — intended to as a continuation of the folded Buffalo Springfield (and they sound nothing like that band)— there are moments when the lead vocals by ex-Bobby Fuller Four bassist Randy Fuller drifts into Morrison’s baritone, even though the writing and arranging foretells the Eagles and Lynyrd Skynyrd.
While it is unknown if “Trivial Sum,” co-written with Richard Bowen, was intended as a ninth song to the Source’s American International Records’ sessions with Harley Hatcher in 1970, or as a session castoff from the Grass Roots, it ultimately appeared as the closing track on the lone album by Blue Mountain Eagle in 1969.
Blue Mountain Eagle was a quintet assembled in 1968 by Dewey Martin, the original drummer in the Buffalo Springfield, and Randy Fuller, brother of the late Bobby Fuller of the Bobby Fuller Four (you’ve heard the Clash’s cover of “I Fought the Law”) to tour as the New Buffalo Springfield. Stephen Stills and Neil Young quickly took legal action to prevent Martin from using the Buffalo Springfield name, so the band became Blue Mountain Eagle. The group toured extensively, opening for Jimi Hendrix, Love, Pink Floyd, and Santana before their demise. Founder Dewey Martin was eventually sacked; he formed Medicine Ball (one album for MCA Records) with Randy Fuller; the rest became Sweathog, which recorded two albums on CBS Records.
Prior to BME’s formation, and through his old Texas friend Micheal Nesmith, guitarist and vocalist David Price worked as Davy Jones’s stand-in on The Monkees television series. Bob Jones, himself ex-Buffalo Springfield, and David Johnson, both from Blue Mountain Eagle, are the common denominator in Sweathog. Frosty, the drummer from the Lee Michaels Band, was also in Sweathog. They reached the U.S Billboard “Top 40” in 1971 with “Hallelujah,” a song lumped in with the early ’70s “Jesus Rock” movement.
Thanks to It’s Pyschedelic Baby Magazine and Pacific Northwest Bands.
6. The Bob Seger System (Detroit, MI, USA, 1968–1969)
This entry ties into a later entry spotlighting the Doors-influenced, Detroit-based Phantom: a band once credited as being a “dead” Jim Morrison incognito.
It’s oft bantered by Detroit scenesters of the ’60s — but widely, and rightly so, discredited — that Ted “The Phantom” Pearson wrote two songs for Bob Seger. Then again, according to a March 1977 issue of the Eastern Pennsylvania newspaper, The Mercury: Bob Seger was The Phantom of Detroit . . . at least until everyone thought it was Iggy Pop, then of the Stooges.
The first song was said to be part of the 1977 recordings by Phantom’s pop-driven outgrowth, Pendragon: “Hollywood Nights,” which appeared on Seger’s 1978 breakthrough album, Stranger in Town.
“The way I look at it,” Phantom keyboardist Russ Klatt reflected in 2021, “the incredible songs that Bob has written over the years, lyrically, he could just write lyrics, all day long. Look at the kudos from musicians like Garth Brooks, and others, showered on Bob. . . . To think about all the songs Bob has written, along with those, so many Eagles’ tunes he co-wrote with Glenn Frey . . . nothing about that [Ted Pearson’s claim] makes any sense . . . [but] I agree: Ted’s lyrics were dark.”³
The “dark” song by the Bob Seger System in question, “Lucifer,” appears on Seger’s third studio album, Mongrel, released in August 1970. Pearson’s Phantom was active in 1970, under the moniker Walpurgis, but there’s no recorded evidence of such a recording existing or as part of that band’s live sets. Ex-Walpurgis keyboardist Paul Cervanek,⁴ who also played with that band’s precursor, Madrigal, stated that while Ted’s lyrics were “dark and sometimes devil-ingesting,” no such song was rehearsed, recorded, or played live.
Taking into consideration this is Bob Seger — long prior to his worldwide, late-’70s hit-making days — just after he hit the U.S Billboard “Top 20” in 1969 with “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man,” and it’s less-the-pop Seger became known for, maybe there’s a slight Morrison raunchiness to it . . . but it sounds nothing like Morrison or the Doors: there’s only the “dark lyrics” and its rumored tie-in to the band Phantom to connect. If anything: Chocolate Watch Band or the Seeds (Doorsy bands, natch) is the soundalike in this case.
In a plot twist: Deep Purple covered “Lucifer” as part of their covers album, Turning to Crime (2021), which placed the Seger obscurity back on our 21st century musical radar. Seger’s version scraped in at #84 on the Billboard “Hot 100” in 1970.
7. Bridges (Oslo, Norway, 1980)
As with the later-discussed Dragonwyck from the U.S, this forgotten European obscurity — unknown in the U.S at the time of its release— found its way to You Tube courtesy of fans vinyl ripping the album — which led to a new fan base and eventual compact disc reissues.
As with the to-be-discussed Circuit Rider: Bridges is so-retro in its Doorsesque organ and Jim-vocal theatrics (yes, it’s recorded in English) that many (in the naive U.S) assumed their lone, private press album, Fakkeltog, was a prog-rock ’60s forgotten relic, but actually recorded and released in the middle of the new wave era (1980). Knowing that: Bridges reminds of U.K gothers Bauhaus — which reminds of the Doors at times, so there you go. “Death of the Century” sure sounds like a cut from the Doors’ 1967 debut tracking as a sixth cut after “The End” on Side 2.
Courtesy of those initial You Tube-uploaders: It was eventually learned Bridges was the teen band of guitarist Paul Waaktaar-Savoy and keyboardist Magne Furuholmen, both of international hit-makers A-ha: Furuholmen wrote the infectious keyboard riff for 1985’s “Take On Me.”
Thanks to The Electricity Club.
8. Can (Cologne, West Germany, 1968–1979)
Next to Uriel/Arzachel (and the Canterbury scene in general), these German experimental krautrockers are the most-written about band on this list — so have at it with the Google searches if you want to know more about Can; hit the library and pick up a few rock and prog-rock reference guides, as well. If you’re into an avant-garde jazz-psychedelic rock-funk-eastern mysticism jam: this is for you.
So, to settle the Doors debate: Can featured two vocalists during the Doors’ tenure: American Malcolm Mooney (1968–70) and Japanese Damo Suzuki (1970–73). So which era falls under the Doorsesque tag and which singer is more Jim than the other?
Can’s early works are far from Doorsesque and instead fall under the Frank Zappa “Is it/it’s not ‘Outsider Music’ or is it avant-garde” arguments: Malcolm Mooney appeared on Can’s debut, Prepared to Meet Thy Pnoom (1968), which was rejected by record companies; it was released in 1981 as Delay 1968. Can’s second album with Mooney served as their debut: Monster Movie (1969). Damo Suzuki — before he left the band to become a Jehovah’s Witness practitioner — provides more material to critique: Soundtracks (1970), Tago Mago (1971), Ege Banyasi (1972), and Future Days (1973).
The suggested cuts from the Suzuki era are the Euro-charting “Paperhouse” and “Spoon” to get your Jim groove on.
Today, there’s the added benefit of listening to the late ’90s discography of Malcolm Mooney’s Can-like, San Francisco-based concern, 10th Planet. Does it sound like Jim? Yes, at Jim’s stream-of-consciousness free-form poetic — but if Jim’s voice was shot and he tossed back a more than a few shots of Jack Daniels (and actually sounds more like the discography of the late, Chicago underground outsider musician, Wesley Willis).
Damo Suzuki returned in the early ’80s under the experimental jazz-fusion aliases Dunkelziffer, the ’90s as Network, and in the naughts as Mugstar, Pond, and C.A.R (each easily discovered on You Tube). Does any of it sound like the Doors? No, if anything, it’s more Miles Davis, musically. Vocally? Yes, again at Jim’s stream-of-consciousness free-form poetic — but if Jim’s voice was shot and he tossed back a more than a few shots of Jack Daniels.
So, Malcolm Mooney has that baritone voice, but isn’t as Jim as Damo Suzuki. The duo finally met one another in 1988. Needless to say, anything in any decade by Mooney and Suzuki leaves your jaw on the floor, amazed. Suzuki passed away in February 2024. Mooney, born in 1944, is 81 years old and released new music as late as 2019.
9. C.A Quintet (Minneapolis, MN, USA, 1966–1971)
So, some fans of the Doors hear Jim and company in the grooves of this Midwest, private press effort. Outside of its Arthur Rimbaudseque album title, Trip Thru Hell (1967), having the Jim Morrison-song titles “Colorado Mourning,” “Cold Spider,” and “Fire Medley,” and an eerie-to-angelic, nine-minute instrumental opening, “Trip Thru Hell (Part 1)”— is this really Doorsesque? (No, we are not delving into the whole Eddie and the Cruisers/John Cafferty thing . . . beyond this sentence.)
Well, when compared to the Doors’ two longest songs, “The End” and “When the Music’s Over,” it makes sense. Then again, isn’t this another Doors parody, as Bill Kopp opined about the Stooges’ eponymous debut?
One point is certain: Upon a listen to the band’s pre-album singles, “Mickey’s Monkey” b/w “I Want You To Love Me Girl,” (1967) and “Smooth As Silk” b/w “Dr. Of Philosophy,” (1968) the artistic growth of C.A Quintet as a pop group to a rock opera/concept album concern — the ambition and talent can’t be denied.
Lyrically, there’s a touch of Jim. Occasionally, the guitars of Tom Pohling have a Robby Krieger-flash. Vocally, too — but only if Jim sang in a higher register. “Cold Spider” has the least-decipherable lyrics and a few Jim-like howls. The keyboards are there but do not carry the band as a lead instrument as did Manzarek’s, leaving this all very San Franciscian acidy and flower child-driven.
As all private-press bands from the ’60s are: C.A Quintet was victimized by the Euro-pirate industry, receiving a reissue proper on the Sundazed label in 1994 and 2023 with unreleased material.
Thanks to C.A Quintet You Tube and It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine.
10. Circuit Rider (Westport, CT, USA, 1980)
Then, there is the Morrisonesque obscurity dislodged from the vaults as result of a legal 2007 compact disc reissue by Numero Group — the eponymous album by Circuit Rider, that was vinyl-ripped prior to You Tube. The label name drops the Doors’ L.A Woman in their advertising copy: they’re right.
Issued as a private press — an approach used by the to-be-discussed Denys Irving’s Lucifer — the record’s center label is a plain sky-blue with the band name and song titles; the label offers no writing or production credits, no record label name, and a bogus catalog number of “CR 666.” The vinyl lingers inside a cover right out the Jim Morrison shaman handbook: a crucified snake on a cross, as a lizard resting on a bed of fire gazes upward at the impaled serpent. The mysterious lack of lyrics, dates, listed band members or photos — in conjunction with its Morrisonesque musical qualities — ignited the possibility that it may be Jim — albeit a more-than-usual Jack Daniels soaked Jim, falling in with a gang of greasy bikers.
Eventually, thanks to the Internet chatter of psych-garage vinylphiles: Robert “Thorn” Oehrig attached to the recording . . . to which, those in the “Jim is still alive” camp, believe the devilish moniker is a Jim Morrison “alias” — but never provide information as to where “Jim” came up with the “Robert Oehrig” pseudonym. The jury is still out on the recording and release date of the record: 1971 vs. 1980 . . . well, it was in a pre-Internet time.
The Circuit Rider recording sessions depend upon Jim, after faking his Paris death, returned to his beloved native America Southwest to record as The Circuit Rider in 1971, then, reinvented himself as The Phantom in 1974.
Or Jim recorded as Phantom in 1974, lied low, then, inspired by Danny Sugerman’s No One Here Gets Out Alive tell-all, decided to record a “Phantom follow up” album as Circuit Rider, in 1980. Even the Circuit Rider moniker oozes a Morrisonesque, shaman vibe: An early Americana term, a “circuit rider” refers to Methodist Episcopal clergymen assigned to travel specific geographic territories (like the Southwestern U.S) to minister and organize congregations among the settlers — as did Morrison’s Pied Piper Lizard King, in organizing and mobilizing music fans.
The most comprehensive book regarding private press albums, 2013’s Enjoy the Experience: Homemade Recordings 1958–1992, writers Greg Turkington and Will Louviere tracked down and supplied the technocloud with The Circuit Rider’s true identity (at least we think it is; no, it is). A true concept album with the cover art, lyrics and music, production and engineering all by Oehrig, it is believed he hired studio musicians and recorded the album at Scoval Productions, a recording studio located above a meat market in Norwalk, Connecticut, in September and October 1971.
Fans of the psychedelic persuasion argue the record’s recording occurred in 1980, as an acid-psych-rock tribute, with kinship to the later day, post-grunge and stoner-rock tribute outfits Fu Manchu, Kyuss, Monster Magnet, and Queens of the Stone Age. The most common and believably accurate history: The album was recorded in 1971, but issued in 1980 — in an analogous recording and release lack-of-schedule utilized by the similarly sounding, early progressive rock bands Lucifer Was and Pentagram: Pentagram’s Bobby Leibling released his first official album in 1985, a decade after he recorded it (after losing the tutelage of Kiss’ Gene Simmons and a deal with Columbia Records).
Devoid of the Manzarek-like keyboards of Phantom (‘s Divine Comedy), Circuit Rider goes for the same acoustic-based, acid-folk and trippy approach utilized by Fraction (to be discussed)— only led by a Steppenwolf-heyday, Easy Rider-worshiping, drunken biker shaman prone to ripping out the occasional Jim-dog howl in mid-song. Overall, Oehrig’s bluesy growl elicits Jim Morrison on Morrison Hotel and L.A Woman, especially on “Old Time Feeling,” while “How Long” and “Chinese” build on the Morrison connection by recalling The Lizard King’s penchant for dropping stream-of-consciousness, talk-sing poetry over instrumentation — like in the Doorsesque Phantom’s “Merlin” and SRC’s “Angel Song.” Then there is “Just for Today,” which, depending on the critic, recalls the Lust for Life-era vocal phrasings of Jim Morrison’s top disciple, Iggy Pop, or Morrison-mimic Tommy Court from his Happy Dragon days (as some critics believe Court is The Phantom . . . that is too long a tale to delve, here, but you can read, here).
In 2016, Robert Oehrig released his sophomore effort — with a “CR 667” catalog number — Photography Attached, on Rob Sevier’s Numero Group label. If that truly is Oehrig on the cover is anyone’s guess.
11. Cliff Morrison and the Lizard Sun Band (USA, 1998–2000)
In addition to appearing as a ghost in Paris in 2002 (remembering Brett Meisner photographed Jim Morrison’s “ghost” in 1997), Jim turned up alive and well, four years later, in 2005.
Residing in the American Pacific Northwest coastal state of Oregon, Jim lived under a new name, working as a cowboy raising show-quality Arabian horses on a ranch incorporated as Jim Morrison’s Sanctuary Ranch. The company appeared on several websites, as well as Internet-posted telephone directories advertising horse breeding and equestrian kennel services. Gerald Pitts and David Logan of Rodeos West, a production company specializing in the staging, filming, and photography of rodeos, issued the initial claims regarding Morrison’s resurrection.
It was during the chronicling of several rodeos in 1997 and 1998, when Pitts and Logan became friends with William James Loyer, aka Jim Morrison. Enamored with his new friends, Loyer disclosed to Pitts and Logan that he was Jim Morrison.
Around the time Gerald Pitts made the acquaintance of William James Loyer, another “Morrison” surfaced — with claims of kinship to Jim Morrison.
Cliff Morrison appeared on the scene with Know Peaking, a 1998 compact disc by Cliff Morrison and the Lizard Sun Band. Cliff claims his mother, Lorraine Widen, had a month-long relationship with The Lizard King — and he was the result of the affair. Cliff found an advocate in entrepreneur Floyd Bocox, whose financial backing produced Cliff’s sophomore compact disc, Color of People (2008). Among the believers in Cliff’s contentions was Waylon Krieger, the son of Robby Krieger, who joined Cliff’s Lizard Sun Band.
Also in Cliff’s corner: Jim Morrison’s brother-in-law, Alan Graham, who married Jim’s sister, Ann, in 1966. (Graham’s brother, John, managed Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, a pre-British Invasion band known for their 1959 hit “Please Don’t Touch” and 1960’s “Shakin’ All Over.”) Those wanting to learn more about Alan Graham’s insights to The Lizard King may read his 2009 book, I Remember Jim Morrison. Graham clarifies in his tome that the basis of the “public” Jim Morrison centers on the last five years of Jim’s life, and of the more than forty books regarding Jim, no book reveals more than the previous book.
As for Cliff Morrison’s claim that he is The Lizard King’s son: Graham believed Widen and Cliff Morrison defrauded everyone, and it all came down to an unraveling helix of DNA. As Bocox developed a reality television series chronicling Cliff’s endeavors, including scenes of DNA testing to prove Cliff and Lorraine Widen’s relationship with Jim, their business relationship soured and dissolved.
And it was all over for Jim Morrison’s “offspring” by 2012: Cliff faced a 75-to-life prison sentence for a 2010 Toronto, Canada, gas station robbery two years earlier (one of his many run-ins with the law; discussed on You Tube by Bocox; the vids come and go), which Cliff pleaded down to a ten-year prison sentence.
Hart Music Distribution, a German-based label, impressed the music of Cliff Morrison in 2015 as part of a Mexican-manufactured, three-disc digipack compilation box set: Many Faces of the Doors, with the songs “August Moon” and “Liquid Highway.” Also appearing on the disc are Phantom’s “Half a Life” and “Calm Before the Storm,” but the disc fails to include Noah James’s contributions to the canons with Nite City’s most Morrison-Doorsesque cuts of “Bitter Blue Sky” and “Angel with No Freedom.” (Yes, Nite City is dissected further down this list.)
12. Crystal Chandelier (North Providence, RI, 1967–1970)
Oh, the Doors shivers are strong with this two 45-rpm singles band that started out as Those Unknown. As with the later discussed the Loose Enz from York, Pennsylvania: something special happened between singles as a sudden, Jim Morrison-vibe, appeared.
The debut single, “The Setting of Despair” b/w “It’s Only You” (1968) is your basic, ’60s pop-psych replete with string orchestration, as the B-Side offers an added, jangle-pop groove: a great single issued by United Artists Records — which, to keep things in perspective, had Billy Joel’s first-signed band, the Hassles, on the roster.
The Doors-influence kicks in with the 1969-released second single, “Your Land of Love” b/w “Suicidal Flowers,” where vocalist/guitarist Arnie Micarelli reaches down in the depths for both sides and conjures Jim Morrison lyrics and vocals on Joe Field’s (ex-Prestige, Verve Records) New York-based, Buddah Records-distributed Cobblestone Records.
In 2011, according to Arnie Micarelli, the band’s next step was to record a concept album based on The Holy Bible’s Book of Revelations, which never came to fruition. His later, early ’70s attempt — with a new group of musicians — to record a blues rock album, was unrealized.
“Suicidal Flowers,” which allegedly charted on the “Top Ten” on Ohio radio stations in 1969, has been the subject of several retro-compilation compact discs issued between 1989 to 2019, thus its awareness to Doors fans.
Special thanks to The Basement Walls and Rip It Up Rhode Island.
13. Douglas Fir (Portland, OR, USA, 1969–1972)
Mystic folk rock with bluesy roots that’s a bit Doorsy with moody vocals and organ is an accurate, critical takeaway for this Doug Snider-fronted band that began as The Sun Trio. Two years of formulating material resulted in signing with the MGM Records’ Quad subsidiary, which released Hard Heartsingin’ (1970). The band split when the label folded and another deal wasn’t forthcoming.
Oh, yes. The Jim vocals and Manzarek arrangements are strong in the cuts “New Orleans Queen” and the title cut, “Hard Heartsingin’.” Could you imagine being a disc jockey at a progressive rock radio station and this — any of this list’s bands — comes across the console? That’s heaven.
Special thanks to the individual who wrote the brief biography on Discogs.
14. Dragonwyck (Cleveland, OH, USA 1968–1975)
This is another, private-press ultra-obscurity (another is Indianapolis’ Primevil; read about them, here) splashing around the Doorsesque vinyl morass, long-forgotten until pirated, compact-disc versions of their three albums — Dragonwyck (1970), Chapter 2 (1973), and Fun (1976) appeared in the online marketplace in the early ’90s.
Truth: Dragonwyck sounds more like Detroit’s SRC (to this writer’s critical ear) and less the Doors . . . but SRC sounds like the Doors . . . and proto-metal and prog-rock collectors believe Dragonwyck’s output sounds like The Phantom . . . who sounds like the Doors (dead Jim) . . . but there’s touches of the Moody Blues, as well. If anything: The proceedings are more from the David Alexrod-era of the Electric Prunes. But that opening cut, “My Future Waits,” from the debut album, sends Jim-chills down the spine — and those keyboards do evoke Ray.
The heavy-psych/prog-rock concern birthed in the North Olmstead suburb with vocalist Bill Pettijohn and guitarist Tom Brehm forming Sunrise — out the ashes of Brehm’s teen band, the Mortycyans — which recorded a lone 45 rpm single, then changed their name to Speed.
Pettijohn and Brame, along with keyboardist Kenny Staab, bassist Mike Gerchak, ex-Mortycyans drummer Jack Boessneck regrouped as Dragonwyck. As Staab introduced a Mellotron, the band evolved from having a Doors to a more Moody Blues-like sound; by the time of third and final album, Fun, the band took on a British Gentle Giant-influenced sound (it’s been a while since I listened to Gentle Giant . . . the critics are right).
By the 1980s, Bill Pettijohn and Tom Breame toured the Midwest with Moonlight Drive, their Doors tribute band. The music of Dragonwyck has since been the subject of several, legitimate reissued between 1992 to 2014, both on vinyl and compact disc.
Thanks to Buckeye Beat, It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine, and Prog Rock Archives.
15. Fever Tree (Houston, TX, USA, 1966–1970)
This Houston-to-California band that began as the Bostwick Vines benefited from the band’s husband and wife co-managers and producers Scott and Vivian Holtzman penning a tune to ride the coattails of all things San Francisco with Scott McKenzie charting “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” and Eric Burdon and the Animals’ “San Francisco Nights.”
Vocalist Dennis Keller and organist Rob Landers — with an assist from Arthur Lee and Love’s producer David Angel contributing the arrangements and orchestration (strings, horns, and harpsichord)— certainly knew how to craft a Doors-vibe with their lone charting single, “San Francisco Girls (Return of the Native),” from the self-titled debut album (1968). Then there’s “What Time Did You Say It Is in Salt Lake City” from their second album, Another Time, Another Place (1968), and “Catcher in the Rye” from their third album, Creation (1969), more Jim so.
Unfortunately, the band never build on the momentum of “San Francisco Girls (Return of the Native),” the third single release from their self-titled debut album, which appeared in the lower regions of the Billboard “Top 100” single chart in June 1968. After a fourth album, For Sale (1970), for Ampex’s short-lived imprint, the band split. Their earliest singles, issued in 1966 and 1967, appeared on Mainstream Records, the home of Detroit’s Ted Nugent’s Amboy Dukes.
As result of Fever Tree’s hit, their career is widely documented by music researchers Joel Whituburn and Lilian Roxon in their respective reference books.
Thanks to Psychedelic Sight.
16. Fraction (Los Angeles, CA, USA, 1970-1971
Another psychedelic-rock ancestor bestowed belated critiques as Morrisoneque — even tossing in MC 5 and the Stooges references — and also the subject of an illegal, Radioactive Records pirate impressing (2007), is a band Vernon Joyson speaks of in 2010’s Fuzz, Acid, and Flowers Revisited: the Christian heavy-rock band Fraction.
Unlike Phantom and Circuit Rider, the Los Angeles-based Fraction avoids any obscuring cloaks of vague, anagrammed album liner notes. Formed by Curt and Don Swanson, along with lead vocalist Jim Beach (himself a clone in appearance of Hawkwind’s Lemmy, and later with Dave Wyndorf from Monster Magnet), Beach’s baritone howl recalls a Jim Morrison-vibe bedded by Don Swanson’s Richie Blackmore-inspired guitars. Issued the same year as the Doors’ L.A Woman, the original vinyl pressing of their lone album, 1971’s Bloodmoon (a mere 200 copies) features a moon graphic on the album’s dust jacket viewed through a red-plastic window sleeve; it is an album rife with lyrics that go beyond the spiritual, free-love style of the times, off into biblical, religious, and fire-and-brimstone topics.
Opening with a Doors “Love Street” clone on “Scan-Divided,” Beach also displays Morrison’s penchant for spoken-word passages (like The Phantom on “Merlin” or Scott Richardson with “Angel Song” by SRC) with “This Bird (Sky High).” Then, after bellowing the need to burn the darkness out of a woman in the exorcism tale “Come Out of Her,” Fraction wraps it up with the nine-minute, Black Sabbath-inspired epic, “Eye of the Hurricane.”
It’s a great album to discover.
17. High Tide (Northhampton, UK, 1969–1970)
The story of Hide Tide is a classic example of the misinformation fueled, in part, by the compact disc reissues flooding the market in the early ’90s — both illegal and legal.
Repertoire Records based in Hamburg, Germany, a label marketing itself as “specializing in the reissue of lost classics from the ’60s and ’70s,” reissued High Tide’s 1969 debut, Sea Shanties. When the reissue hit the racks in 1994 — not even a year after the Phantom’s Divine Comedy reissue by CEMA/Capitol— reviews dropped the word “Morrisonesque” and phrases of “heavy slabs of Black Sabbath” — two bands referenced in the web reviews of Phantom’s debut album.
As result of the “Jim’s lost solo album” mystery of 1974 reigniting with the 1993 reissue of Phantom’s Divine Comedy: Part 1, High Tide became a candidate in solving the Phantom mystery. A comparison of the Morrisonesque similarities of Hide Tide and Phantom inspires a record collector to ponder: If High Tide released their debut after Jim Morrison’s death in 1971, would reviewers cite Sea Shanties as a blatant Doors rip-off to cash-in on the late singer. If Phantom hit the racks in 1969, instead of 1974, there would be no “Jim Morrison solo record” marketing campaign?
Did vocalist Tony Hill mimic the Doors’ lead singer? The musically astute can also hear similarities in Hide Tide when comparing them to Hawkwind. The Hawkwind similarity is no accident: Simon House, the violinist and instrumentalist of Hide Tide, joined Hawkwind for 1974’s Hall of the Mountain Grill and 1975’s Warrior on the Edge of Time.
18. Hoppi & the Beau Heems (Tampa, FL, USA 1967–1968)
This Florida sextet’s all-too-brief career consisting of two 45-rpm garage rock singles was managed by Phil Gernard. In addition to founding Laurie Records, Gernard produced “Stay,” the #1 chart-topping doo-wop classic by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, 1963’s “Double Shot (of My Baby’s Love),” which became a 1966 U.S “Top 20” hit for the Swingin’ Medallions, and co-writing “Snoopy vs. the Red Baron,” for Ocala, Florida’s the Royal Guardsmen. So, why did this Tampa band miss the charts?
While their should-have-charted, 1967 debut single, “I Missed My Cloud” b/w “So Hard,” is reminiscent of Detroit’s Question Mark and the Mysterians, it’s “When I Get Home,” the B-Side to their 1968 second-single reissue of “So Hard,” that the Doors vibes arrive courtesy of lead singer Howard “Hoppi” Symons Morrison-bellows over Richard Garrett’s distinctive organ grinding. Just wow. It sounds like an outtake from the Doors’ second album, Strange Days (1967), that got cut in lieu of “Love Me Two Times” and “People Are Strange.”
“When I Get Home” is in a three-way tie for the best Doorsalike on this list, next to the to-be-discussed Loose Enz with “The Black Doors” (Waiting for the Sun era Doors), and the Source with “Phantom in the Rain” (The Soft Parade era). An absolutely stellar side that should have made the national charts with a bullet.
Thanks to Creative Loafing Tampa and Tampa Bay Garage Bands.
19. Lucifer, aka Denys Irving (Colwyn Bay, North Wales, UK, 1972)
Courtesy of both bands being equally mysterious, with their joint, pre-Internet, brick and mortar record store confusion carrying over to the web, it was years before Denys Irving received his rightful credit as the Lucifer behind the albums Big Gun and the biker film soundtrack, Exit (both 1972) — his work conflated with Canadian-born Morton Garson, who also recorded under the Lucifer moniker and release the experimental ambient-electronic work Black Mass in 1971. The plot thickened with Peter Walker, he the ex-leader of the Manchester, England-based Purple Gang — as Walker also utilized “Lucifer” as a stage name.
Flirting with the very non-Doors, heavier side of Pink Floyd, the weighty, psychedelic sounds of Purple Gang issued one full-length album in 1968, along with the singles of “Granny Takes a Trip” b/w “Bootleg Whisky,” and “Kiss Me Goodnight, Sally Green” b/w “Auntie Monica.” Peter Walker took his Lucifer stage alias seriously: he claimed to be a real practitioner of witchcraft and eventually joined a coven (like the guys in Columbia’s Black Sabbath-hopeful: Black Widow, who dug themselves out of graves-on-stage).
However, Lucifer, aka Denys Irving, the band/musician responsible for Big Gun and Exit, was actually a bass heavy, one-man band conceived and self-distributed through music magazine mail ordering by the Wales-born musician. While Irving died in 1976, verification of his identity occurred in 1996, courtesy of an autobiography written by Welsh drug smuggler Howard Marks, infamously known throughout the British Isles as “Mr. Nice.” Mike Ratledge of Soft Machine, and Naomi Zack, the film producer and director of Exit (1972), since supported the claims by Marks.
After hanging up his rock ’n’ roll horns, Irving worked as a roadie for several years with Pink Floyd, then attended New York’s Columbia University. Upon graduation, Irving set up a film and music production company, Lucifer, Ltd., with a fellow student, Naomi Zack — and drug smuggler Howard “Mr. Nice” Marks provided company financing.
Exit, the film, made its big screen debut at London’s Pop Up Cinema festival and appeared on DVD in 2012. The album Big Gun, reissued to compact disc in 2006, features the single “Don’t Care” b/w “Hypnosis.” The Exit soundtrack features the fourteen-minute extravaganza, “Burn.” Both albums were released as Dance With the Devil as double compact disc and online stream in 2015.
Once you start listening, you’ll hear the Morrisonesque quality is solely based in Irving deploying a frequent Jim-like baritone howl . . . but Manzarek is no where to be found.
Wikipedia and Discogs offers extensive biographical information on Denys Irving’s career.
20. The Loose Enz (York, PA, USA, 1967–1968)
The four-piece the Loose Enz is one of the more obscure Doors sound-alike bands formed in the late ’60s — both in its arrangements and vocals. The sole reason the Loose Enz making this list is for the Doorsy “The Black Door,” the A-Side to their second and final single on Virtue Records. Run by its namesake, Frank Virtue, the label holds the distinction of having its roster nationally distributed by Mercury Records; however, none of Virtue’s artists — including the Loose Enz — made the U.S. national charts.
Their entire, four-song discography of the Loose Enz consists of two 45-rpms: “The Black Door” b/w “Easy Rider” on Virtue Records in 1968, and the debut single, “A World Outside” b/w “Better Man than I,” on the local Dee-Bee Records out of Windsor, Pennsylvania, in 1967. All four sides also appear on the ’80s retro-reissue comps Pennsylvania Unknowns (Time Tunnel Records, 1982), The Return of the Young Pennsylvanians!! (Bona Fide Records, 1983), the Virtue artist comp Crude PA Volume II (Distortion Records, 1996), Destination Frantic Vol. 3 (Zone 66/Australia, 2008), 30 Seconds Before the Calico Wall (Arf! Arf! Records/Boston, 1995), and From The Vaults 60s Rarities (Redeye Worldwide, 2016).
Ironically, as much “The Black Door” sounds like Jim Morrison and the Doors, the rest of the Loose Enz catalog sound less like the Doors . . . with “Easy Rider” sounding like Iron Butterfly, “A World Outside” sounding like the Seeds, and “Better Man than I ” sounding like . . . well, it is a remake of an old Yardbirds tune, after all — which was a B-Side of the Yardbirds’ best-known hit, “Shapes of Things.” (A pre-Grand Funk Railroad Terry Knight and the Pack recorded their own version of “Better Man Than I,” which scraped the U.S “Top 100,” after seeing the Yardbirds perform the song at a Michigan gig in 1966.)
Frank Virtue led his own band, the Virtues out of Philadelphia, which had a hit single in 1958 called “Guitar Boogie Shuffle.” When the hits stopped coming and the band split in 1962, just prior to the arrival of Beatlemania, Frank started his label, which would release over 100 singles until its demise in the early ’80s.
Ex-Enz Eric Chester and Alan Jackson — half brothers — later took on the “Qutierez” name when their mother remarried. They subsequently co-founded the York-band Trained Labor with Mike Eads, Larry Smith, and Eric Dillman from fellow Philadelphia/Eastern PA band, the Soul Clinic. Trained Labor split with no deal forthcoming and Larry Smith and Mike Eads moved to Boston to attend the Berklee College of Music. Both sides of the Soul Clinic’s single, “She’s So Sharp” b/w “No One Loves Me Anymore,” remind one Tom Jones-era tunes.
Thanks to Dangerous Minds, Shady Dell Music & Memories, and Tape Wrecks.
21. Nite City (1976–1978)
Leave it to Ray Manzarek, himself — outside of Jim Morrison’s “son” Cliff Morrison — to produce the most blatant of all the Doors-analogous bands on this list.
Doorsphiles once believed Phantom’s Divine Comedy, issued on Capitol Records in March 1974, was a scrapped demo from an earlier version of Nite City with Iggy Pop (again: all that Wonderland Avenue nonsense), sans the updated new-wave flourishes: that, and it was a failed, fourth album by Detroit’s SRC (a band discuss, later).
Yes, one will hear the ghost of Jim Morrison on “Bitter Blue Sky” (with melodic similarities to the Doors’ “Love Street”) and “Angel with No Freedom” (reminds of Jim’s spoken-lyrical imagery heard on “Riders of the Storm”), while Manzarek’s Doorsesque keyboards reign evident on “Summer Eyes.” In addition to an overall, keyboard-driven Doors sound, Nite City’s debut also has the Morrison-look: Noah James sports a Jim-analogous, long flowing mane, aviator shades, wildly-exotic animal-haired jackets, and Indian-beaded turquoise necklaces.
Manzarek eventually fired his pet-Morrison mimic (or James quit, depending on which story you read; in a 1977 issue of Creem: Manzarek fired James) shortly after the debut release. At that point, the band replicated the production of Manzarek’s two Jim-less albums: Now, instead of Manzarek and Krieger: Manzarek and guitarist Paul Warren shared lead vocal duties on their personal compositions. Neither were as magnetic — no matter how cheesy-fake one thinks he is — as James.
Warren came into the band from his tenures in Rare Earth and Pacific Gas & Electric, alongside Nigel Harrison, formerly with U.K glam rockers Silverhead, then joining U.S new wave-outfit, Blondie, after Nite City.
The Doors’ drummer John Densmore, in his book, Riders on the Storm: My Life with Jim Morrison and the Doors, goes on record that he was disgusted by Nite City — with Noah James strutting around like a caricature of Jim, with Iggy Pop jumping on stage during a Nite City gig at the Whisky for a run-through of “Light My Fire” while wearing a Jim Morrison tee-shirt.
After the departure of Noah James: Nite City continued as a four-piece, on their second and final album, Golden Days Diamond Nights (1978). After an unsuccessful attempt to sign a new deal with Polygram Records for a third album, Nite City disbanded. Warren and Nite City’s Detroit-born drummer, Jimmy Hunter, formed Paul Warren and Explorer, recording one new wave-inspired album, One of the Kids, on RSO Records (1980) — credited as the only unsigned band to appear on U.S television’s The Midnight Special rock program.
22. October Country (Los Angeles, CA, USA, 1968–1968)
The band’s three singles from their lone, eponymous album, “October Country,” “My Girlfriend Is a Witch,” and “Cowboys and Indians,” are pure “Sunshine Pop” of The Mamas and the Papas variety to these critical ears. That critique comes courtesy of the mellifluous vocal mix of Joe De Fransa and his sister Caryle, so the Doorsesque qualities drift to the Manzarek side of the equation by way of the swirling, calliope keyboard work of Bob Wian and the Jerry Scheff-Doug Lubahn bass bounce of Bruce Watson.
In fact, critics cite the album orchestration’s pinch the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band — which is mentioned in reviews of Joseph Bryd’s work as The United States of America, an album that’s a closer kin to October Country than anything by the Doors.
Fun fact: October Country recorded the soundtrack for Amblin’, Steven Spielberg’s first short film shot on 35mm. Denis C. Hoffman, who managed the band, financed the film.
Thanks to the Los Angeles Times.
23. Omnibus (New Milford, NJ, USA, 1968–1970)
Meanwhile, New Milford, New Jersey’s Omnibus — keep in mind, issued before The Phantom’s effort and while the Doors where still together — expanded upon the Hoppi and the Beau Heems’ one-shot (stellar) sound-alike side.
Their 1970 eponymous debut on United Artists features plenty of Morrison screams and grinding, Manzarek-inspired organ flourishes: lead vocalist Robert “Bob” Wegrzyn and Al Raimondi on keyboardist simply nails it on their lone, eponymous album (1970) with the opening cut and lead single, “The Man Song.” A stellar, consistent album of Doors chills — even when you dip back into their now digitally-available acetates from 1968 with “The Farm.” Just wow.
As with the previously discussed Circuit Rider, Fraction, High Tide, Fraction, and One St. Stephen: If Omnibus released their debut post-Jim Morrison’s death in 1971, would psych-rock aficionados have reviewed and debated Omnibus as a legitimate Jim Morrison-resurrection vs. an unabashed Doors-swindle, just as Doors devotees opined regarding the 1974 release of Phantom’s Divine Comedy: Part 1?
It’s debated if Omnibus were an official part of the “Bosstown Sound” alongside Orpheus and Ultimate Spinach; the geography is so close, so why wouldn’t a New Jersey band work their way into Boston? Then, again: Boston’s Doors-alike, Quill, wasn’t part of it, either. Oh, that’s right, you had to be under Alan Lorber’s thumb and MGM’s tutelage.
Thanks to the official Omnibus You Tube channel.
24. Orpheus (Worchester, MA, USA, 1967–1971)
As the new, gritty and grinding sounds emanated from the Motor City, one thing was certain: Detroit rock ’n’ roll arrived. The buzz was on Motown, going blow-for-blow with San Francisco and the “Flower Power” sound of that Southern California city. And Capitol and Elektra Records had Detroit locked up: if any band from the city signed a deal, it was with one of those two labels. And if those labels didn’t want you: you ended up with a crappy deal on Mainstream or Vanguard.
So, American rock ’n’ roll shifted gears nationwide to replicate the crunch of the Motor City in the heart of the Mitten State, with record producer Alan Lorber, with MGM Records and WMEX 1510 AM complicit, going as far as concocting a bogus “scene” in Boston, Massachusetts: the critically and commercially panned “marketing strategy” known as the “Bosstown Sound.” To put Lorber’s big rock move into a modern perspective: In the backwash of the organically-grown Seattle grunge-rock scene of the early ’90s, record companies hyped Chicago, Illinois, as the next hip “scene” as they failed to manufacture a Seattle/Portland-styled vibe within the Oklahoma City/Kansas City geographical axis (that born the modern Doors clone: The Front, aka Baker’s Pink).
So, with bands such as Beacon Street Union, Chameleon Church, Earth Opera, Eden’s Children, Orpheus — and some debate if New Milford, New Jersey’s Doorsesque Omnibus were also part of the fabricated Boston scene — MGM decided to go for the Gold . . . records that never came.
As for Orpheus: There a little too much “Top 40” orchestration with strings and woodwinds, along with the vocal harmonizing (see October County), to make this a full-on Doorseque concern (it’s a weak argument on the list). Their third single, “Brown Arms in Houston,” from the third album, Joyful (1968), however, has touches of a baritone Jim — if he was reigned in the studio and convinced to sing in a popper vein as does Eric Gulliksen. It lacks the string and horns “umph” of the Doors’ orchestrated work with “Touch Me,” which is obviously what the MGM Records’ executive suite was trying to achieve.
Their debut single, “Can’t Find the Time to Tell You,” from their self-titled debut (1968), reached #80 on the Billboard “Hot 100,” while their second album, Ascending (1968), was voted #10 on Playboy Magazine’s “Best Vocal LP” list for the year. The band opened tours for Blood, Sweat and Tears, Cream, Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin, and the Who. After the “Bosstown Sound” marketing gimmick failed, the band recorded a final album for Bell Records in 1971 before disbanding.
“Can’t Find The Time To Tell You” appeared in numerous films and television shows: a cover by Hootie and the Blowfish appears in the Farelly Brothers’ Me, Myself & Irene (2000). We recently lost Eric Gulliksen on June 4, 2023.
25. One St. Stephen, aka Don L. Patterson (Akron, Ohio, USA, 1975)
Queued in the Morrisonesque-turnstile behind Robert Oehrig of Circuit Rider fame is Don L. Patterson: as result of a famous jazz musician with the same name, he utilized the One St. Stephen music de plume. His one-off, heavy n’ moody acid-blues, psych-rock hybrid was released via another private press venture. Yes, that’s Patterson handling multiple duties on Moog, piano, and all electric guitars, in addition to designing the album cover and label, as well as composing all the lyrics and music.
As with Denys Irving’s private press Lucifer project recording the Exit soundtrack, Patterson conceived the One St. Stephen project as a soundtrack to his proposed-never-was film project, The Devil’s Reservation. Recorded at Owl Studios in Columbus, Ohio, and utilizing the same 8-channel analog deck that captured the Woodstock Festival in 1969, Patterson issued a limited pressing of two thousand copies through the Queen City Record Company of Cincinnati, Ohio (today, original copies sell for a couple hundred dollars).
As with other forgotten, proto-metal and psych-rock classics before him, Patterson became a record-pirating victim, with his work needled-dropped twice: First, the undisputed kings of the pirate needle-drop industry, Radioactive Records, issued their impress in the early-2000s. Previously, in the early ’90s: an Austrian-based impress incorrectly conflated Patterson’s One St. Stephen project with a 7”/45-rpm single by an unrelated Boston, Massachusetts-based band, St. Steven.
As for the Morrisonesque moments: While Patterson’s project injects elements of jazz and blues, and even touches of the Stooges-inspired burgeoning punk movement of the ’70s, it also drifts into early Styx-inspired synthesizer progressive rock — not evoking a hint of a Doorsesque groove. However, progressive-rock aficionados point to “November Edgar” and “Nightly Drift” as a hint to what Jim Morrison would sound like fronting a jazz-rock outfit — even more so than the jazz inclinations of Manzarek and Krieger with their solo projects.
Thanks to It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine and Rockasteria.
26. Phantom (Detroit, MI, USA, 1967–1974)
Well, this collective of “mysterious” Motor City musicians is the proverbial 40-pound gorilla in the studio when it comes to Doors sound-alike bands, isn’t it?⁵ As you listen to this mix of Phantom’s “Merlin” with the Doors’ “Blue Sunday,” you’ll understand what all the fuss was about back in the Summer of 1974 when the single “Calm Before the Storm” b/w “Black Magic/White Magic” was released.
So, for the truth behind the band: Ted Pearson and Harold Beardsley, on vocals/guitar and bass, respectively, started the band as covers band the Revolvers while in high school. As members came and went — including Beardsley — they became the heavier concerns Madrigal, then Walpurgis.
As result of Pearson’s Morrisonesque voice: Bob Seger’s manager, Ed “Punch” Andrews, seen a quick way to market the band, so the band changed their name to Phantom to capitalize on the myth behind Jim’s death.
Then, Pearson broke away from Punch Andrews’ management and — it’s debated — joined the Doors as their new lead vocalist after other attempts (previously discussed in this essay’s opening paragraphs) failed.
Pearson resurfaced in Detroit in 1977 with the pop-driven Pendragon, which lasted until 1983; he died in March 1999.
27. Quill (Boston, MI, USA 1967–1970)
Hailing from Boston but missing out (luckily) on the “Bosstown Sound” marketing blunder, the brothers of Jon and Dan Cole (bass and lead vocals, respectively) received their greatest recognition appearing at the second day of the Woodstock Festival in August 1969, which led to their signing with Atlantic Records’ Cotillion imprint (thus the band being well-documented beyond indie-blogs and sites). Sadly, while those 400,000 hippies well-received the band: they didn’t buy the subsequent album. Upon Jon Cole’s departure and remaining a quartet, the band recorded an unreleased, sophomore album.
So, for the Doors part of the equation: Oh, yes. On the very first track, “Thumbnail Screwdriver,” Jim and Ray (courtesy of keyboardist Phil Thayer) are evident; another ersatz-Doors tune is the seven-minute epic, “Shrieking Finally.”
28. Rare Bird (London, UK, 1969–1975)
Signed to the Charisma Records label and hailing from Britain, you have a good idea of what you’re getting: keyboard-driven progressive rock suites that reminds of Emerson, Lake and Palmer (Keith Emerson’s the Nice was signed to the label, natch) meets the Moody Blues; so, vocally, no Jim: Manzarek keyboards: yes. In fact, their second single, “Roadside Welcome,” resembles Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.
Their non-album, debut single, “Sympathy” b/w “Devil’s High Concern” reached #1 in Italy and France in 1969; while charting in the U.K “Top 30,” it failed on the U.S charts. Their nineteen-minute epic, “Flight, Parts 1–4,” is what this band is all about: this writer’s critical ear leans hard to Emerson, Lake and Palmer, and not so much the Doors, across their five-album career for Charisma (two; ’69–’70) and Polydor (three; ’72–’74).
Fun fact: Keyboardist Dave Kaffinetti, credited as David Kaff, portrayed Viv Savage in This Is Spinal Tap (1984).
Thanks to It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine and Maximum Volumes.
29. The Source (San Diego, CA, USA, 1970)
Next to York, Pennsylvania’s the Loose Enz, Southern Calfornia’s the Source — even more so — is the most Morrison-driven of this list’s spotlighted bands⁶ with their respective songs, “The Black Door” and “Phantom in the Rain.”
Richard Bowen’s the Source signed with American International Pictures’ music division, American International Records: a label incorporated in 1959 to produce and market music for the studio’s films. As with all of the label’s artists, the Source would cut music for one of those films: A Bullet for Pretty Boy (1970). While the Source recorded eight songs with the label’s in-house producer and writer, Harley Hatcher, only six appear on the soundtrack’s A-Side: it’s their first single for the label, “Yesterday Is Gone” b/w “Phantom in the Rain,” as a standalone-single issued in March 1970, that sounded the Doors clarions.
As with the Loose Enz style variations between sides, as much as “Phantom in the Rain” sounds like the Doors, that’s how much the A-Side, “Yesterday Is Gone,” does not.
The band’s output, on whole, is an artful, progressive rock-fusion of folk, gospel, country, and bluegrass elements that strikes a chord of Harry Nilsson’s soundtrack breakthrough with “Everybody’s Talkin’” from Midnight Cowboy (1969). There’s dashes of the Monkees’ unjustifiably-scoffed, post-Don Kirshner output that would work as tracks on either Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. and The Birds, the Bees & the Monkees Again, there’s a pinch of Morrison courtesy of “Phantom in the Rain,” but the Source’s remaining output is the antithesis of the Doors. Why the soulful growl of Richard Bowen and the Source weren’t nestled into the U.S. charts alongside Gary Puckett and the Union Gap or Rob Grill and the Grass Roots is anyone’s guess.
Richard Bowen recut a non-orchestrated version of “Phantom in the Rain” for Down On Us (1984): a faux-biographical drama of speculations and conspiracies regarding the deaths of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. In addition to that Doors stand-in, Bowen’s solo single, the ragga-inspired “Knock So Hard,” sounds like an outtake from the Butts Band if Jim was on lead vocals.
30. SRC (Detroit, MI, USA, 1967–1972)
Once the brick and mortar set got over The Phantom was Jim Morrison incognito and Phantom’s Divine Comedy was Jim’s “solo debut,” recorded as part of the lost “Paris Tapes” recorded prior to his death, or he recorded it after he “died” and ran off to Africa — with Hollywood soundtrack composer and Morrison confidant, Fred Myrow, along with Elektra production employees John Haeny and Bruce Botnick, assisting Morrison with the writing and production in each scenario. Once the speculators got over The Phantom’s album was an Iggy Pop “solo album” cut in the wake of Iggy and the Stooges’ 1973 classic album for Columbia, Raw Power — which Iggy cut as a demo tape with castoffs from the MC5 and the Quackenbush brothers from SRC in his bid to be Jim’s replacement in the Doors. That’s where SRC enters into the Doors equation as another speculation: SRC — without Scott Richardson on lead vocals — was behind the album.
They weren’t.
The Quackenbush confusion makes sense upon a listen to the stylistic similarities of the interwoven Hammond organ and guitar measures on “Black Sheep,” the lead cut of SRC’s debut album (1968), to Phantom’s opening cut of “Tales from a Wizard” from their Capitol debut (1974). There’s also the rhythmic and similar lyrical subject matter on the third cut from SRC’s second album, Milestones (1969), “Eye of the Storm,” to the third cut of Phantom’s album with “Calm Before the Storm.”
Then there’s the final cut on Milestones, “The Angel’s Song,” with a thumping bassline that reminds of Phantom’s “Devil’s Child” — complete with a buzzing/bag-guitar opening that segues into Morrisonesque spoken-word poetry over mellow piano measures, leaving “The Angel’s Song” resembling the spoken word technique of “Merlin,” the seventh cut on the Phantom effort.
Then there’s SRC’s never-released fourth album recorded in 1971, shelved by Capitol after the failure of the “Never Before Now” single from Traveler’s Tale (1970) — the alleged, “lost album the band cut without Scott Richardson on lead vocals.”
Thanks to Bruno Ceriotti Rock Historian.
31. Ultimate Spinach (Boston, MI, USA 1967–1969)
Here’s another failed chart-topper from MGM’s “Bosstown Sound” marketing boondoggle (the other two that made chart headway were Orpheus and Beacon Street Union) that appears on some “sounds like the Doors” playlists. Ironically, as the most Morrisonesque, they achieved the highest chart placement of all the Beantown groups (#34 on the Billboard “Top 200”) that were supposedly going to give Detroit a run for their money and usurp San Francisco as the new hippie culture epicenter.
It all began as the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Ian Bruce-Douglas in 1967 as Underground Cinema. Then, once he met producer Alan Lorber and signed with MGM Records: the name change (but from a Douglas acid trip where he drew on his face with a green marker and “looked like a spinach”).
It’s all there: Long instrument suites swirling in a fuzz n’ feedbacked, West Coast-inspired, psychedelic-folk-classical-baroque stew: evident in “Sacrifice of the Moon (In Four Parts)” from the debut album (1968), itself an anti-war concept album. By the time of the second album, Behold and See (1968), Barbara Hudson took a more prominent role on vocals, so the proceeding became less Doors and more Jefferson Airplane (well, more The Peanut Butter Conspiracy). Then, Bruce-Douglas quit and left Hudson to record a third, eponymous album (1969) as all Doors-like qualities, were lost. If one goes back to the heavy orchestrations on the Doors’ The Soft Parade (1968), it’s the obvious model for the albums.
So, for one’s Doors fix: Stick to the Ian Bruce-Douglas albums, but the first more than the second. The caveat: The Jim of it all is when Bruce-Douglas goes into spoken work “poetry mode”; once Barbara Hudson comes in, the Doorsiness is gone; yet, there’s no denying the debut single, “Ego Trip” b/w “Your Head Is Reeling,” (the latter like an ersatz “The End”) hits the Morrison spot.
Thanks to Prog Archives and Urban Spires.
32. Wicked Lady (Northamptonshire, UK, 1969–1972)
This private-press, Doors-like band is not to be confused with the all-female British quartet active from 1974 to 1981, remembered for one of the worst album covers in the world. Oh, how could one confuse the joint mad genius of Mark Santos and Martin Weaver with those gals.
The blogs and video sharing sites of the Internet dedicated to over-the-top psych-metal joyously disinterred these masters of heavy slabs of metallic blues, who served as long forgotten third stringers behind Black Sabbath and Black Widow. Connoisseurs describe Wicked Lady as a British Blue Cheer and name-drop Germany’s Lucifer’s Friend, fellow stoner-rock contemporaries, New York’s Sir Lord Baltimore, and Bobby Leibling’s Pentagram in their reviews; other say it’s Black Sabbath meets Budgie, while still others call out “I’m a Freak” and its Bob Jeffries’s Lemmy-inspired basslines as a precursor to Motorhead. (It does sound like a Motorhead outtake — amazing.)
Past web-biographers tell us Wicked Lady hailed from the middle-England city of Northampton from 1968 to 1972. As with most proto-metal bands of the era: the wicked ones experienced a digital-age career renaissance courtesy of an unauthorized 1994 compact disc; it led to properly mastered, legal compact disc releases — featuring liner notes by Martin Weaver— in 2012, on the legit, Spain-based Guerssen Records, with Psychotic Overkill (recorded in 1972) and The Axeman Cometh (recorded in 1970).
After Wicked Lady’s demise: Martin Weaver recorded with fellow Northamptoners, Dark, which issued a limited vanity press, Round the Edges (1972). Weaver then moved into Hawkwind-meets-Pink Floyd-inspired instrumental space rock with the Mind Doctors, which issued another limited vanity press, On the Threshold of Reality (1976) — both reissued to legal compact disc. The reissues resulted in Dark’s original recording roster of Steve Giles, Ron Johnson, Martin Weaver, and Clive Thorneycroft reforming and releasing a new album thirty years later: 2006’s Anonymous Days. As result of the renewed interest in their respective bands, Martin Weaver and Steve Giles developed a modern social media presence, releasing new, digital-based music.
A suggestion to the Doors curosity seekers: Listen to the acoustical guitar opening for “War Cloud” from Wicked Lady’s The Axeman Cometh and compare to “Welcome to Hell” by Phantom. The similarity is not by accident: Franz Liszt’s “Dante Symphony, First Movement: Inferno” influences both melodies — at least in this writer’s ears. Jim Morrison and Franz Lizst in one song: you can’t go wrong with that combination.
Thanks to British Music Archives and It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine.
Now, for one, “Sounds Like Jim” Bonus Round:
33. Phantom, aka Robert W. Moon (Netherlands, 1980)
I opted to not alphabetize this unofficial entry because of the outlandish nature of the tale — even more so than the first, tall tale of: “Ted Pearson of Phantom’s Divine Comedy fame disappeared after recording his album in 1974 because he was a drug dealer who entered witness protection. This Arthur Pendragon person from [the Detroit band] Pendragon [1977 to 1984] claiming to be The Phantom is a liar,” I was told a few years ago after I published my first book on the Phantom mystery of 1974— as I’ve never been unable to confirm either tale.
Apparently, Robert W. Moon and his brother Micheal were ex-professional football (soccer) players from the Netherlands who were also failed musicians. So, in 1980, six years after the release of Phantom’s Divine Comedy: Part 1 — since the album was a long forgotten relic, and Robert’s vocals bore a striking resemblance to Jim Morrison (and Ted Pearson, natch): the Moon brothers reissued the album with their photos and claimed they were behind the album, then toured Northwestern Europe playing the songs.
As with the person who social media-reached out to me those years ago with the “witness protection” story: one lone, cryptic message, then nothing. No reply to my follow up questions. No images of the brothers or album exists, either.
Now, Dino “Bengiamino” Rocco of Danny & the Memories fame (without Rocco: they became Crazy Horse and backed Neil Young) fronted a band Phantom in 1980, which released a single on Gramma Records: a Zimbabwe-based label that issued records in Britain, South Africa, and the Netherlands. Did they conflate Rocco with the Moon brothers?
Truth, mistaken, or outright lie: we’ll never know. . . .
Is it possible the musicians on these effort were not out to mock, rip-off, or create a career out of smoke-and-mirrors? Perhaps they were legitimately creating music relevant to the trends of the times. Many bands meshed diverse influences into their albums — everything from Black Sabbath to the Doors, from Led Zeppelin to Pink Floyd — in one musical stew.
Darkness serves as the basis of hard rock and heavy-metal lyrics. Its subject matter deals with religious beliefs regarding the lathes of heaven above and the realms of dead below (break on through to the other side); of cultural religious ignorances regarding the mystical dangers of deceptive wizards and soul torturing witches; of fears rising from the depths of hell; of mystical temptations descending earth-bound from other dimensional worlds of wonder.
Now, you know of the bands. And now, you can listen to their music and decide: Are they either Morrisonseque or Manzarekesque — or full-on Dooresque in their endeavors?
When it comes to rock ’n’ roll: no man is an island and one man is not a band (well, in a couple of cases). A rock band, at its core, is a musician’s second family and their home away home. It takes a family to create music and it takes music to construct a home.
Now, enjoy the sounds created by these three-dozen rock ’n’ roll families. Thanks for reading this epic tale of Doors-connected bands.
The Doors: Music and Video Albums
A curated playlist by R.D Francis — based on the uploads of other — of the bands and songs of our discussion.
We’ll start with the Doors at their least-commercial best with “Alabama Song (Whisky Bar)” and “The Wasp (Texas Radio and the Big Beat)” to place the listener in the right frame of mind to hear the Morrisonesque qualities of the other bands.
The bands discussed will then play in the same alphabetical order as the above essay.
A curated playlist by R.D Francis — based on the uploads of others— of videos regarding the mystery and myth of Jim Morrison. This list was once longer than eleven videos, but many have since vanished.
The spirit of Jim lives on in these “mash ups” featuring Jim singing with other bands.
Detroit U.S.A’s premiere Doors tribute band fronted by Michael “Chizzy” Chisholm. Learn more about the Detroit Doors courtesy of an interview with Chisholm and R.D Francis on Medium.
[1] “Defining generations: Where Millennials end and Generation Z begins,” Pew Research Center.
Additional credits to Discogs and Wikipedia for jogging memories and filling in the gaps on the above artists, the You Tube uploaders for allowing for the curated playlist creations, Martin C. Strong with his indispensible and exhaustive, The Great Psychedelic Discography, and Ira A. Robbins’s Trouser Press Record guides (both color Post-It Note-tabbed forever).
