THE DOORS' "SOMEDAY SOON": HYPOCRISY, DEATH AND MUSIC

In many guises and contexts, the topic of death repeatedly emerges in the lyrics Jim Morrison wrote for The Doors.

"Someday Soon" falls into this category with a direct and immediate sharpness, as evidenced by the chorus line, "And I hate to remind you, but you're going to die".

Morrison most likely wrote this song in 1969, around the same time as other compositions that, just like this one, would unfortunately remain unused except for some live concerts (as happened, for example, to the magnificent "Universal Mind").

As far as is known, “Someday Soon” was played only during two performances of the "Morrison Hotel" LP tour: in Pittsburgh on May 2, 1970, and in Seattle on June 5, 1970.

The Seattle version (here’s the link), which we recommend listening to, is more convincing than the first in terms of the overall quality of the performance. It would later be included on the popular "Essential Rarities" CD released in the late 1990s.

In the lyrics of the song, cryptic and impenetrable images follow one another, like clouds laden with threatening and barely hinted meanings.

One example is “Television bleeding like a harvest moon”. Here, Morrison uses the term "television" for the third time for social criticism purposes (the previous two quotes are in "My Eyes Have Seen You" and "Unknown Soldier").

In "Someday Soon," the television shining with a sanguine light, like the full moon that was used by peasants to harvest at night, represents a striking metaphor. It suggests that when death comes to sever our existence, it will find us in front of the television.

The Doors' caustic singer-poet wittily exposes and denounces the personal oblivion experienced by those who lose their authenticity through conformity, avoiding inner introspection and the development of self-thought.

So, when they will face their last breath, the hypocrisy experienced in everyday life will be useless: "And you're going to be needing all your lies".

With the help of guitarist Robby Krieger, Morrison's poetic musical insight is elaborated upon until it glows with a gloomy reverberation that shatters with bleak sarcasm over a melancholy and sardonic refrain.

The piece's structure is quite common: verse-chorus-solo - verse-chorus-middle eight - verse-chorus-solo-middle eight - coda.

This musical framework is excellently staged by darkly charming melodies and instrumental interventions that are almost on the same expressive level as the vocals.

The solo parts, entrusted to the electric guitar, are characterized by a few notes stretched through the technique of bending upward the strings on the freatboard of the intrument.

The result is a high-pitched, prolonged sound that is projected into an ethereal dimension, resembling the relentless flicker cast upon the surface of an inescapable end.

The drums and electric organ maintain a rhythmic profile that is no less striking, deploying sound solutions with poetic unpredictability.

These two instruments accompany the voice and guitar as if in a funeral procession, crossed by the lucid madness that only the awareness of an imminent departure can inspire.

Densmore, in particular, unearths unusual percussive angles as the song turn its pages, interweaving the intensity of the crash cymbal with the subtle and unexpected remarks of the snare drum.

Despite the less-than-perfect audio quality due to the live recording, Morrison's voice reveals its heartbreaking enchantment. It touches the listeners in a very effective way, especially during the composition's wonderful coda.

Here, he reiterates the tune's title with lacerating acceptance of his doom, symbolizing the approach of a death that brings uncomfortable questions and futile regrets.

"Someday soon": these words are spelled out almost despairingly in the song's title. For Morrison, that day came a little over a year after he sang these deep words on the Seattle stage.

His sudden encounter with death, which occurred on July 3, 1971, is thus preceded by "Someday Soon" as a bitter and mournful prediction of the inevitable, which soon comes true.

Although really significant and evocative, the tune was evidently still being perfected in late spring 1970 and was never recorded in the studio.

The Doors' failure to finish and officially release the song constitutes a painful loss to rock music, partially made up for by the availability of the two live shows mentioned at the beginning of this article.

My book "The Doors Through Strange Days"- The most comprehensive journey ever made through The Doors' second LP, is available on Amazon.com, uk, mx, ca, etc.

Here’s the link:

Amazon – “The Doors Through Strange Days”