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Весьма неплохая, пятая по счету, работа от американских классиков хард-рока на блюзовой основе, в которой они попытались вернуться к психоделическому звучанию первых трех альбомов и одновременно сохранить блюзовое наполнение. В последнем обстоятельстве не последнюю роль сыграло приглашение к участию в записи джазового гитариста Рэя Неаполитана. В начале идет несколько отличных тем: открывающая альбом «Roadhouse Blues», неплохо бы подошедшая для какого-нибудь придорожного заведения, с по-металлически жесткой гитарой, под звучание которой подстраивается быстрое фортепьяно, запоминающейся губной гармоникой и пронзительным вокалом; «Waiting for the Sun», с отличным балладным тандемом переливающихся клавишных и загадочной гитары, сменяющимся жестким энергичным риффингом (у группы уже был альбом с таким названием – интересно, почему этой вещи там не было?), и тревожной атмосферой; «You Make Me Real», прикольный ритм-энд-блюз на фортепьянно-гитарной основе, убыстряющийся к концу и превращающийся в энергичный хард-рок; «Peace Frog (Abortion Stories)», достаточно прикольная вещь (несмотря на такое название и многократное упоминание слова «кровь»!) с запоминающимися клавишными под блюзовый риффинг. Далее музыка становится не столь интересной и начинает уже быть скучноватой. Под блюзовую балладу «Blue Sunday» вполне можно заснуть, зато под более мажорную «Ship of Fools», в лирике которой Моррисон сочетает апокалиптические образы с надеждой на лучшее, можно слегка поплясать. На этом заканчивается первая сторона пластинки, озаглавленная «Хард-рок кафе» («Hard Rock Cafe») и начинается собственно «Отель Моррисона» – с музыкальной точки зрения вторая сторона более блюзовая и менее запоминающаяся. Клавишно-гитарный блюз «Land Ho!» не добавляет ничего нового, хотя ее вполне можно ставить, когда отправляешься в морское путешествие на собственной яхте. Далее следует мистический блюз «The Spy» («Я – шпион в доме любви, я знаю, о чем ты мечтаешь»), вроде бы очень простой, но этим и цепляющий – особенно хорошо запоминается внезапное появление жесткой гитары. Достаточно энергичный ритм-энд-блюз «Queen of the Highway» вновь просто держит марку, а довольно простенькая по началу гитарная баллада «Indian Summer» навевает скуку, также ничем не выделяясь на общем фоне. В качестве неплохого завершения стоит интересный хард-блюз «Maggie M’Gill», напоминающий потяжелевших Rolling Stones. Хотя данный альбом не дал The Doors ни одного хит-сингла, тем не менее, он в чести у фанов группы и у многих тех, кому не чужда хорошая музыка. |
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And that's for the people who like to go down slow.
Let it roll, baby, roll;
Let it roll, baby, roll;
Yeah, let it roll, all night long.
Ashen lady, Ashen lady, give up your vow!
Give up your vow!
Save our city, save our city, right now.
When I
WAITING FOR THE SUN
At first flash of Eden we rased down to the sea,
Standing there on the freedom's shore.
Waiting for the sun, waiting for the sun,
waiting for the sun.
Can't you feel it, now that spring has come;
That it's the time to live in scattered sun.
Waiting for the sun, waiting for the sun,
Waiting for the sun, waiting for the sun.
Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting,
Waiting for you to come along;
Waiting for you to to hear my song;
Waiting for you to come along;
Waiting for you to tell me, what went wrong.
This is the strangest life I've ever known.
YOU MAKE ME REAL
I really want you really do,
Really need you baby, God knows I do.
'Cause I'm not real enough without you;
Oh, what can I do.
You make me real, you make me feel like lovers feel.
You make me trow away mistaken misery.
Make me free, love. make me free.
You make me real, only you have that appeal.
So let me slide in your tender sunken sea,
Make me free, love, make me free.
PEACE FROG (ABORTION STORIES)
There's blood in the streets, it's up to my ankles,
There's blood on the streets, it's up to my knee.
Blood on the streets in the town of Chicago,
Blood on the rise, it's following me.
She came and then she drove away,
Sunlight in her hair.
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
Blood in the streets, it's up to my thigh.
The river runs down the legs of the sity
The women are crying rivers of weeping.
She came and then she drove away,
Sunlight in her hair.
Indians scattered on a dawn's highway bleeding,
ghosts crawd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets of the town of New Haven,
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice.
Blood in my love in the terrible summer,
bloody red sun of Fantastic L.A.
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation.
Blood is the rose of mysterious union.
Blood in the streets, it's up to my ankles,
Blood on the streets, it'up to my knee.
Blood on the streets in the town of Chicago,
Blood on the rise, it's following me.
BLUE SUNDAY
I found my own true love was on a Blue Sunday.
She looked at me and told me
I was the only one in the world;
Now I have found my girl.
My girl awaits for me in tender time.
My girl is mine,
She is the world,
She is my girl.
SHIP OF FOOLS
The human race was dying out,
No one left to scream and shout.
People walking on the moon,
Smog will get you pretty soon.
Ev'ryone was hangin' out,
Hangin, up and hangin' down.
Hangin' in and holdin' fast,
Hope our little world will last.
Yeah, Along came Mister Goodtrips
Looking for a new ship.
Come on, people, better climb on board;
Come on, baby, now we're going on home.
Ship of fools, ship of fools,
Smog will get you pretty soon.
LAND HO!
Grand-Ma loved a sailor
Who sailed the frozen sea.
Grand-Pa was a whaler
And he took me on his knee.
He said, "Son, I'm goin' crazy
From livin' on the land.
Got to find my shipmates
And walk on foreign sands."
This old man was graceful,
With silver in his smile.
He smoked a briar pipe and
He walked four country miles.
Singing song of shady sisters
And old time liberty,
Songs of love and songs of death,
And songs to set me free.
I've got three ships and sixty men,
A course for ports unread.
I'll stand at mast, let north winds blow
Till half of us are dead.
Land Ho!
Well, if I get my hands on a dollar bill,
Gonna buy a bottle and drink my fill.
If I get my hands on a number five,
Gonna skin that little girl aline.
If I get my hands on a number two
Come back home and merry you,
Merry you, merry you. All right!
Land ho!
THE SPY
I'm the spy in the house of love.
I know the dream that you're dreaming of;
I know the world that you long to hear.
I know your deepest secret fear.
I know ev'rything;
Ev'rything you do;
Ev'rything you go;
Ev'rything you know.
I'm a spy , I know your deepest secret fear.
I know your deepest secret, I'm a spy
I can see what you do;
And I know.
QUEEN OF THE HIGHWAY
She was a princess, Queen of the Highway.
Sign on the road said: "Take us to Madre".
No one could save her, save the blind tiger.
He was a a monster, black dressed in leather.
She was a princess, Queen of the Highway.
Now they are wedded, she is a good girl;
Naked as children out in the Meadow,
Naked as children, wild as can be,
Soon to have offspring, start it all over.
Start it all over.
American boy, American girl,
Most beautiful people in the world!
Son of a frontier Indian Swirl,
Dancing thru the midnight whirl-pool
Formless hope it can continue a little longer.
INDIAN SUMMER
I love you the best,
Better then all the rest.
I love you the best,
Better then all the rest, that I meet in the sommer.
Indian summer.
MAGGIE M'GILL
Miss Maggie M'Gill she lived on a hill;
Her daddy got drunk ang left her no will,
So she went down, down to "Tangie Town".
People down there really like to get it on.
Now, if you're sad and you're feelin' blue,
Go out and buy a brand new pair of shoes,
And you go down, down to "Tangie Town".
The people down there really like to get it on, get it on.
Illegitimate son of a rock and roll star.
Illegitimate son of a rock and roll star.
Mom met Dad in the back of a rock'n roll car.
Well, I'm an old blues man and I think that you understand.
I've been singing the blues ever since the world began.
Maggie, Maggie, Maggie M'Gill,
Roll on, roll on Maggie M'Gill.