The crowd was a blend of middle-aged Harley bikers, beer bellies and mullets, with their biker wives. Mixed in were Generation-Xers with Doors t-shirts that reminded us of the “Waiting for the Sun” album. During the afternoon, the beer marquee consisted of a parade of people drinking the ‘official beer.’ Walking toward the stage for the start of the show, the overwhelming smell of fresh grass filled the air as the crowd prepared itself mentally and chemically. On our right, two boys and a girl dropped Ecstasy, and to our right a family arrived—mom, dad, and their young daughter of 10. Tonight they learned about wandering in hopeless nights.

Original keyboardist Ray Manzarek and original guitarist Robby Krieger demonstrated that the same brilliant musical interaction has not been lost. The revamped Doors included bassist Angelo Barbera from Krieger’s band, Stewart Copeland, ex-drummer of the Police, and Ian Astbury of the Cult leading the vocals. Many would say that the newly recruited members of the 2002 Doors adjusted quite naturally to the spirit of the old band, coming fully equipped with the natural interactions of the music and with each other. The ever-so-tight drumming of Copeland has won Manzarek’s approval by being the “best rock ‘n’ roll drummer in the Northern Hemisphere” as he so proudly stated during the introductions.

As dusk inundated the dull, gray sky, the stage suddenly became alive as the 21st Century Doors opened. The dreariness of the surroundings was quickly forgotten when the musicians stepped forward with the large, sheer mountainous backdrop behind. Three very large Harley-Davidson emblems were visible, hung on either side of the large stage, and on top.

The first spoken words came from John Moranz of Q107 when he successfully attempted to build up the audience’s anticipation by yelling, “Is everybody in? Is everybody in? Is everybody in?” When Krieger struck the opening chords to “Roadhouse Blues,” the entire audience sang like soft mad children. Right away familiarity between Robby and Ray was displayed as they played off and with one another.

Astbury, resembling a 25-year old Morrison with a black leather jacket and shades, tested the waters during the first two songs, “Roadhouse Blues” and “Break On Through” and jumped in completely during the third song “When the Music’s Over.” It was then that Astbury became deserving of the audience’s complete acceptance and thus performed with all he had.

Since the days before the Whisky a Go-Go, The Doors have covered the German composer Kurt Wiell’s “Alabama Song” written in the early 30’s, and Willie Dixon’s “Back Door Man” written in the early 50’s. With the plethora of original Doors songs, it is a credit to Wiell and Dixon that Krieger and Manzarek still enjoy playing them and have made them a permanent part of their repertoire like “Light My Fire” and “L.A Woman.”

During the performance of the “Alabama Song” the first backdrop change occurred from the mountainous scene into multi-colored psychedelic lights and shapes moving about in all directions. This light presentation created a spectacular effect on stage and caused further enthusiasm from the crowd by taking them back to the era of drugs and free love. During “Back Door Man” and “Five To One,” the audience remained in awe during yet another backdrop change, this time red sheer over the mountain scene. A beach ball was being passed around the audience at this time.

Next, Manzarek introduced a revamped arrangement of “Strange Days” that will be in the works for the new Doors album to be released in 2003. This new album is claimed by Manzarek to “embody the spirit of a ‘new’ Doors album of old material with a contemporary spin.” The performance was perhaps one of the highlights of the show being the first innovative piece introduced that the ‘new’ Doors had a hand in creating.

After that amazing performance, Manzarek changed the mood into one that was more tranquil by reciting Morrison’s “Ghost Song,” within a medley of “Awake” and “The Hill Dwellers.” Two Aboriginal Americans enhanced the presentation by dancing in their colorful costumes that incorporated feathered wings and long braids.

Astbury was phenomenal when he belted out the lyrics to “Moonlight Drive,” recited Morrison’s “Horse Latitudes” poem, and performed “Wild Child” and “Summer’s Almost Gone” in an oh-so-Morrison manner, before driving the crowd wild with “L.A Woman.” “L.A Woman” revived the crowd’s enthusiasm with its upbeat mood, and this was where audience interaction with Astbury became evident.

The last song before the “encore” was a brilliant rendition of “Light My Fire.” Astbury left the stage in the middle of the song to make way for the instrumental solos, with the inclusion of Eleanor Rigby in the guitar solo. Interaction between Manzarek/Krieger and Krieger/Copeland during this performance manifested brilliantly. On completion the entire band abruptly said its thanks and left the stage. Of course the show wasn’t over because no Doors concert is ever complete without the classic tune “Riders On The Storm.” The absence of that song had the audience rightfully demanding an encore. And what the audience wanted, the audience got.

Not five minutes more, a deep blue backdrop and dim lighting introduced not only the largely anticipated song, but also more of the sweet smell of weed as the spellbound fans drew in the last breath of what could be dubbed one of the greatest concerts ever.

Some critics have unfairly labeled the 21st Century Doors a ‘tribute’ band. It is true that Morrison was the lead contributor of the band, but with his death, The Doors, as a band, did not die with him. The Doors is very much alive, with the original musicians recreating their original songs. It is incomprehensible to concur with the notion that with the absence of the original vocalist, the remainder of the original members becomes a tribute band. This indicates that Manzarek and Krieger have no credibility.

Astbury stepped into open gunfire when he agreed to deliver Morrison’s lyrics and poetry. He knows he’s not Morrison, so does the audience. In his difficult role of ‘being’ Morrison without completely imitating him, he did a phenomenal job. The audience response was clearly positive during “L.A Woman” when he hyped up the mood by fiercely repeating the verse “mojo risin’….” Unlike Elvis, fan impersonations of Morrison leave us empty. The original concerts in the 60’s and early 70’s exposed people to the Dionysus within Morrison. Astbury sang the material with the reverence of Opera libretto. His poses were calculated to remind us of Morrison’s sexuality, but it was Astbury’s Dionysus that he was letting loose, not as intense and drunken a god as Morrison’s. Yet the angst that is The Doors music was revealed in subtle ways such as Astbury flinging a water bottle into the crowd during “Break On Through,” and the looks and poses that he took throughout the show. Astbury frequently placed the microphone on its stand and clung to it like an imaginary lover.