The Doors' 10 Best Songs, Ranked

One of the greatest rock bands of all time, The Doors took the world by storm in 1967 and have flourished in the cultural zeitgeist ever since. The six albums they released before frontman Jim Morrison‘s tragic death helped define the psychedelic era in a way that still endures in the American consciousness. The band’s unique music resonates with people to this day, whether they grew up with The Doors or were born in the 21st century. Morrison is the most famous name, but the other three members of the band were brilliant, too: keyboardist Ray Manzarek (rest in peace), guitarist Robby Krieger, and drummer John Densmore.

Operating primarily in blues and psychedelic rock, the band’s range is one of their most fascinating qualities. They could do something as structurally straightforward as “Love Her Madly,” yet other simple songs nonetheless are given a strange mood or feeling (e.g., the carnivalesque “Alabama Song,” or the a cappella “My Wild Love”). Songs like “Roadhouse Blues” and “Back Door Man” are very blues-rock oriented, while “The End” and “Light My Fire” are considered watershed moments in psychedelic rock. Always experimenting with lyrics and sound, The Doors released so many memorable tracks that it’s difficult to pin down their best. They’re not necessarily all their most famous works, nor are they all the band’s most complex. It’s a matter of taste in the end, but the songs below arguably showcase how The Doors could open our minds to the emotional and structural possibilities that music has to offer.

10

“You’re Lost Little Girl”

Strange Days (1967)

“You’re Lost Little Girl” is an entrancing piece that feels like it can go in any direction. It starts in a sort of haze; we only hear the bass’ descending pattern for the first few seconds, which is soon accompanied by Krieger’s moody riff in the minor key. It already feels like we’re lost, so Morrison’s first words (“You’re lost little girl”) fit almost too well with the mood the band has established. The soft percussion taps along.

The sections that follow are more up-tempo and less dark, but they keep an intriguing quality to the sound that sustains this sense of ambiguity throughout the song. Morrison’s voice has never sounded more hypnotic here, while this song also features one of Krieger’s best solos. The band packs a lot into three minutes, and it feels like they could have easily extended the song for more. Alas, we only have the three.

9

“People Are Strange”

Strange Days (1967)

The Doors have several long, meandering masterpieces. But they also have a bunch of smaller ditties that get stuck in your head and should not be ignored. “People Are Strange” ranks among the best of them. It’s cool to have Morrison singing along to just the guitar in the beginning, and it’s cool how the song includes several moments when the whole band stops.

It’s fun, and it maintains the kind of strange atmosphere that helps it fit together with the rest of Strange Days. Also consider the lyrics, as the narrator talks about feeling isolated from everyone and how “streets are uneven when you’re down.” Focusing less on the loneliness and more on the feeling of looking at the world in an unfamiliar and discomforting way, “People Are Strange” is a perfect example of when pop music and psychedelia combine.

8

“Break on Through (To the Other Side)”

The Doors (1967)

The first Doors song was a momentous sign of things to come. “Break on Through (To the Other Side)” has an intriguing, uptempo rhythm and a surprisingly catchy riff that we first hear on the keyboard. It already sounds so 60s, and Robby Krieger’s guitar playing that riff in the background fills things in perfectly. When Morrison starts singing about how the day destroys the night, we know we’re in for some unique lyrics.

Clocking in at less than two and a half minutes, this song has a lot going on in it. They’re able to fit in that impressive keyboard solo, for instance. Then there’s the bridge where Morrison famously sings “She gets!”—which was missing a word for a few decades because the studio didn’t want the band to mention drugs so explicitly. The word “high” was finally restored, and it’s a testament to the song’s strength that both versions somehow feel equally excellent. The band’s mythology shows us they were making controversial moves from the start, and fans wouldn’t have it any other way.

7

“Love Me Two Times”

Strange Days (1967)

The riff in “Love Me Two Times” hooks us in immediately: a bouncy take on the e-major chord that the rest of the band plays along with perfectly. First the drums come in, then a very bright keyboard arrives. Morrison’s deep voice croons along as well as ever, and his occasional scream breaks up his vocal performance nicely. The keyboard solo is one of the cooler ones in the band’s repertoire, contributing to the blues while giving off that semi-psychedelic sound the band manages to keep even in tunes like this.

It’s also great when the band hits those staccato notes, especially at the end. It almost feels like the fans have to guess when the song is going to end—not like they want it to, of course. Along with the smaller details, like how those trills at the end of the riff last different amounts of time throughout the song, “Love Me Two Times” remains a classic to this day.

6

“Light My Fire”

The Doors (1967)

You can recognize it just from that rock organ in the introduction. “Light My Fire” features both one of The Doors’ most famous lines and one of its longest jams. Regarding the former, it’s when Morrison implores a girl, “Come on, baby, light my fire.” As erotic as the lyrics are, Morrison brings his poetic turns of phrase to elevate the material into something so iconic that Tom Hanks would eventually sing it in Cast Away.

As good as the verse and chorus are, the bulk of this song is that extended jam in the middle. With iconic organ and guitar solos, this jam helped establish The Doors among the pioneers of psychedelic rock. From the single snare drum that launches this powerhouse to the way Morrison sings “trying to set the light on fire!” in several different ways in the final moments of the song, there are nuances galore in this improvisational epic.

5

“Touch Me”

The Soft Parade (1969)

The opening seconds of “Touch Me” make up one of the best introductions in rock history. The rough sound on the guitar works perfectly with the staccato execution that drives the riff. The idea builds as the rest of the band joins in, and then it suddenly breaks off to have the immortal sex-symbol Jim Morrison say, “Come on, come on, come on, come on now touch me, babe!” The verse doesn’t slow anything down, and neither does the chorus.

This is definitely one of The Doors’ weirder hits, with all the string and brass instruments featuring prominently throughout the song. They went for an experimental sound on The Soft Parade, and it mostly didn’t work out. But this song alone made the whole record totally worth it. The blaring saxophone solo at the end is another unusual but totally welcome touch that makes this song really stand out in the band’s repertoire.

4

“Waiting for the Sun”

Morrison Hotel (1970)

“Waiting for the Sun” has such a mesmerizing opening. The shimmering keyboards, the slide guitar, the prominent bass. There’s also Morrison’s stellar lyrics, which starts off beautifully: “At first flash of Eden, we race down to the sea.” That contrast between the spacey opening and the sudden interjection of a heavier, bouncier riff gives the verse a surreal, unpredictable quality. The surprisingly heavy part will later segue into an absolutely sensational, intense bridge. The repetition of “Waiting” perfectly evokes the meaning of the word.

That middle section features so prominently that it’s hard to even remember what the chorus sounds like. Fitting in with its surroundings, it feels more like a good transition into the bridge and into the end of the song. “Waiting for the Sun” also features one of Morrison’s greatest screams (an “Oh!” that comes in about two minutes and forty minutes in), which is saying something. Overall, this song has so much detail that it creates a brilliantly overwhelming amount of atmosphere.

3

“When the Music’s Over”

Strange Days (1967)

You might mistake the opening keyboards for “Soul Kitchen” for a few seconds, but after a few more seconds you realize this is a different beast entirely. The introduction is fantastic, as we hear Densmore accompanying Manzarek as if merely getting his hands warmed up for the real jam. That explosion with Morrison screaming “Yeah!” lets us know that there’s something epic about to transpire, and this song doesn’t disappoint.

“When the Music’s Over” is the final song in Strange Days, just as “The End” finished the previous album. A second psychedelic goliath, except this one is much more about rocking out than spacing out. It works marvelously all the way through, from that first dissonant guitar solo all the way to Morrison talking about what we’ve done to the Earth to that epic to the finale. There’s too much to describe here; just know that it’s 11 minutes of madness than any psychedelic rock fan needs to hear at least once.

2

“Riders on the Storm”

LA Woman (1971)

The rain, the thunder, the bass and drums, the soft keyboards. It’s the beginning of “Riders on the Storm,” which sets the irresistable mood immediately. Jim Morrison’s lyrics are never better, supporting the ominous tone with words that present a cruel, potentially meaningless existence (“Into this house we’re born. Into this world we’re thrown”), as well as a cruel and dangerous world (“There’s a killer on the road. His brain is squirming like a toad”).

Each chorus is followed by a solo that transports us into what almost feels like another dimension. We get the guitar solo, then the keyboard solo—but it’s the sound of those keyboards that steals the show here. That recurring string of descending notes feels like raindrops on your face every time it appears. The song concludes in a way that feels like you’ll never be able to shake it off, thus ending one of the greatest rock albums of all time.

1

“The End”

The Doors (1967)

One of the most iconic picking patterns is also one of the weirdest, and it revolves around that hammer-on from C-sharp to D. From that opening single note of D on the B-string, “The End” completely immerses us in this dark, drifting world that feels as if it’s suspended in time. Meandering from section to section, Morrison announces that “This is the end,” that it’s “my only friend,” that there are children “waiting for the summer rain,” that “there’s danger on the edge of town,” and so on. Where the hell are we?

Don’t worry about it; just let the song flow through you, and this masterpiece will be easier to appreciate. Disturbing, mysterious, enigmatic—none of these words do this song justice. Spoken word poetry, Sigmund Freud, and infinitely nuanced improvisation from every instrument combine to create something that feels like it takes on a consciousness of its own. Drugs were probably taken during the making of this song, but you shouldn’t have to take any drugs to let yourself sink into this patiently paced, bizarre epic. That’s the power of great music, and this—though certainly an acquired taste—captures the inscrutable nature of death better than anything else.