It certainly wasn’t The Doors’ biggest hit, as it was only released as a B-side to a single that flamed out quickly. And it wasn’t all that emblematic of the band’s signature sound, as it largely steered clear of their signature combination of psychedelic instrumentation and abstract poetics.
Videos by American Songwriter
But “Roadhouse Blues” might have been the best example of the quartet (with a few special guests) simply rocking out with abandon and seeming to have a blast doing it. So what is the song and it’s meaning all about? Was it based on an actual location that the band frequented? And who the heck was that G. Puglese character playing the harmonica? All those answers ahead.
The Doors Go Back to Basics
The year 1969 was not the best for The Doors. The band’s infamous concert in March where Morrison allegedly exposed himself led to a scandal that cost them dearly, due to cancelled tour dates and blacklisted records. Lead singer Jim Morrison’s alcoholism continued to run rampant. And although it produced a major hit in “Touch Me,” their ’69 album The Soft Parade found the band adrift amidst horns and string arrangements, leading to the worst reviews of their career.
When they reconvened in November 1969 to record (around the same time that Morrison caused a ruckus on a flight for more bad press and legal issues), they decided to nix all the embellishments of The Soft Parade for the making of Morrison Hotel, eventually released in February 1970 Naming the album after an LA establishment which shared the surname of their frontman, The Doors released their toughest and bluesiest album yet. There were no hit singles from it, but the critical applause was loud and clear. And much of that centered on the blast-off to the record, a stomper of a track that featured the band storming through their former acid rock haze into blues rock nirvana.
Going to the Roadhouse
Oddly enough, there aren’t any definitive stories about the exact origin of “Roadhouse Blues.” While some claim that Morrison wrote it while driving with his girlfriend, the credits list him as the sole lyricist but give the whole band props for writing the music. As such, it’s likely that the song evolved out of a jam session and Morrison threw in lyrics that he possibly already had lying around to fit what the band was doing.
The Doors welcomed a couple of guests that helped to define the sound of the song. Because they didn’t employ a regular bassist, they relied on session players to fill that gap on their records. In the case of “Roadhouse Blues,” Lonnie Mack, a former blues and soul performer who was then working with the band’s label Elektra Records, was called on at the last minute on bass.
Meanwhile, as befitting a gutbucket blues, a harmonica part was essential. But who was G. Puglese, credited as the song’s harmonica player? It was none other than John Sebastian, who gained fame as the chief singer and songwriter for The Lovin’ Spoonful. Sebastian used an alter ego because of contractual restrictions.
As a result, it was a six-man outfit that recorded “Roadhouse Blues.” We’ll get to Morrison’s vocal in a moment, but first, let’s talk about how this track showcases what thrilling chemistry these musicians possessed. In particular, it gives guitarist Robby Krieger a chance to shine. In addition to the thrilling opening riff and the distorted blasts that pop up in the final section of the song, Krieger lets loose with a furious solo, egged on by Morrison’s cries of Do it, Robby.
Meanwhile, Ray Manzarek trades in his signature organ for a barroom-style piano and plays with irresistible funkiness. John Densmore keeps the whole thing swinging behind his drum kit, locking in with Mack on bass for a particularly elastic groove. And Sebastian milks his guest spot for all it’s worth, suggesting that he would have had a nice career as a session man if he wasn’t so masterful at writing songs.
The Meaning Behind “Roadhouse Blues”
Perhaps inspired by the loose yet thrilling musical background, Jim Morrison left his usually mysterious musings at the door for “Roadhouse Blues,” instead settling for a series of winning one-liners. (He’s also at his most powerful as a singer on the song as well.)
Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel, he bellows to start it off. Indeed, the song as a whole is like a wild ride that’s capable of flinging passersby who aren’t holding on tight into the dirt, so it’s an apropos beginning. As for the roadhouse that inspired the song, the one with the bungalows in back, the Topanga Corral, a legendary Malibu bar and live venue, has most frequently been cited. But any dive that smells of beer and sweat and features some great acoustics for the bands that come through will do just fine.
In keeping with Morrison’s lighthearted (some claim drunken) approach to the song, he even scats his way through the middle portion. As for Ashen lady, give up your vows, well, it could well be the narrator hitting on a married woman at the bar. Listening to Morrison going from slick and seductive to wild and unhinged in this section reminds us that there was no bandleader quite like him.
Which leads us to the final verse and one of the most unforgettable couplets in rock: Well, I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer/The future’s uncertain and the end is always near. It’s an amazing juxtaposition, loose and trivial in the first line, thoughtful and apocalyptic in the second.
That sends the song stomping into the final bars, with one more bluesy Krieger lick for good measure. “Roadhouse Blues” stands out as the song that even the biggest skeptics of the band have to appreciate as a rock and roll dynamo. It also presents an alternative history where The Doors weren’t the poetic princes of psychedelia, but rather the supremely talented local band that brings the ruckus, as the song says, all night long.
Photo by Estate of Edmund Teske/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images)
