Heâd lost it, it was too bad, but he lost it completely. The thing was, at that time no one really knew how far you could push things â everyone was taking the most incredible amount of drugs â and no one really knew when to stop. But Jim got an addiction, and that was that . . .â
âHe wasnât as promiscuous as people say he was,â said Danny Fields, âand tended to hang on to one woman at a time. He let himself be attacked by girls, he was sort of passively promiscuous. If some piece of trash came up and sat on his cock, he wouldnât pick her up and throw her off. But he didnât go out with the specific intention of picking girls up â and he certainly didnât order people to get him girls. If they came and conquered him, that was fine. His life was a series of rather long relationships, and he always had a womansomewhere. He didnât have a girl every night, but he didnât push them away, either. I donât think he loved to fuck.â
There will always be rumours, but there is little to suggest that Morrison was in any way gay. In
Rock Dreams
, the 1973 picture book written by Nik Cohn and illustrated by Guy Peellaert, a pouting, muscular Morrison is depicted as a gay icon, a leather queen in tight black pants and a string vest. In a crowded bar he perches on a stool, surrounded by rent boys, sailors and drag queens, in a scene reminiscent of the photograph on the gatefold sleeve of
Morrison Hotel
. Standing behind him is Roy Orbison, one of the original leather boys. Nik Cohn said this was an obvious portrait of Morrison, if a little perverse: âAt the time he was so much the most beautiful boy in the world. He was the ultimate idol, for girls and boys alike. But he wasnât drawn that way [by Peellaert] because of his personal habits.â
âI think he found it uncomfortable being adored by men, because he was so sexy,â said Danny Fields. âOn the other hand, he would have complained if it had stopped.â
Writing only two years after Morrisonâs death, Cohn already had a handle on his enduring success: âAt first Morrison seemed no more than a marvellous boy in black leathers, made up by two queens on the phone. Later on, however, he emerged as somethingaltogether more solemn. Not just a truck-stop rocker, nor even a golden stud, but a poet and a thinker, stuff full of profundities. Forthwith he embarked, like a rock and roll Bix Beiderbecke, full speed ahead on the American route to romantic martyrdom.â
Jim Morrison was instant myth.
By now Morrison was turning into a furious and indiscriminate drinker. He liked alcohol because it fitted in with his particular slant on the Dionysian myth â getting drunk and picking up (or being picked up by) women. His macho code was also influenced by Norman Mailer, and his chosen drug, alcohol, helped him to see this through. By drinking beer (or anything else) he didnât have to rely on anyone â no sycophantic dealers or wealthy women: he could walk into any bar and get his prescription, right there and then. âI hate the kind of sleazy sexual connotations of scoring from people,â he said, âso I never do that. Thatâs why I like alcohol; you can go down to any corner store or bar and itâs right across the table . . . Itâs traditional.â
âItâs like gambling somehow,â he said another time. âYou go out for a night of drinking and you donât know where youâre going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. Itâs like the throw of the dice.â
Morrison liked places that were noisy and beery and cloudy with grease. He wouldnât have known how to behave in anywhere smart, not that anywhere smartwould have tolerated his behaviour. The singer wasnât born feral, but thatâs what he had become. He would be so drunk he listed, swaying from side to side until he
âHe wasnât as promiscuous as people say he was,â said Danny Fields, âand tended to hang on to one woman at a time. He let himself be attacked by girls, he was sort of passively promiscuous. If some piece of trash came up and sat on his cock, he wouldnât pick her up and throw her off. But he didnât go out with the specific intention of picking girls up â and he certainly didnât order people to get him girls. If they came and conquered him, that was fine. His life was a series of rather long relationships, and he always had a womansomewhere. He didnât have a girl every night, but he didnât push them away, either. I donât think he loved to fuck.â
There will always be rumours, but there is little to suggest that Morrison was in any way gay. In
Rock Dreams
, the 1973 picture book written by Nik Cohn and illustrated by Guy Peellaert, a pouting, muscular Morrison is depicted as a gay icon, a leather queen in tight black pants and a string vest. In a crowded bar he perches on a stool, surrounded by rent boys, sailors and drag queens, in a scene reminiscent of the photograph on the gatefold sleeve of
Morrison Hotel
. Standing behind him is Roy Orbison, one of the original leather boys. Nik Cohn said this was an obvious portrait of Morrison, if a little perverse: âAt the time he was so much the most beautiful boy in the world. He was the ultimate idol, for girls and boys alike. But he wasnât drawn that way [by Peellaert] because of his personal habits.â
âI think he found it uncomfortable being adored by men, because he was so sexy,â said Danny Fields. âOn the other hand, he would have complained if it had stopped.â
Writing only two years after Morrisonâs death, Cohn already had a handle on his enduring success: âAt first Morrison seemed no more than a marvellous boy in black leathers, made up by two queens on the phone. Later on, however, he emerged as somethingaltogether more solemn. Not just a truck-stop rocker, nor even a golden stud, but a poet and a thinker, stuff full of profundities. Forthwith he embarked, like a rock and roll Bix Beiderbecke, full speed ahead on the American route to romantic martyrdom.â
Jim Morrison was instant myth.
By now Morrison was turning into a furious and indiscriminate drinker. He liked alcohol because it fitted in with his particular slant on the Dionysian myth â getting drunk and picking up (or being picked up by) women. His macho code was also influenced by Norman Mailer, and his chosen drug, alcohol, helped him to see this through. By drinking beer (or anything else) he didnât have to rely on anyone â no sycophantic dealers or wealthy women: he could walk into any bar and get his prescription, right there and then. âI hate the kind of sleazy sexual connotations of scoring from people,â he said, âso I never do that. Thatâs why I like alcohol; you can go down to any corner store or bar and itâs right across the table . . . Itâs traditional.â
âItâs like gambling somehow,â he said another time. âYou go out for a night of drinking and you donât know where youâre going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. Itâs like the throw of the dice.â
Morrison liked places that were noisy and beery and cloudy with grease. He wouldnât have known how to behave in anywhere smart, not that anywhere smartwould have tolerated his behaviour. The singer wasnât born feral, but thatâs what he had become. He would be so drunk he listed, swaying from side to side until he
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