THE QUID - 05/2x/1970

Mexico City - MEXICO

Note: The exact date of this appearance is unknown.


Venue Address: 121 Puebla St. - Mexico City, MX
Promotion: Mario Olmos/La Onda (Magazine)
Event: Asociacion Mexicana de Periodistas Cinematograficos (AMPEC) Benefit

Performer:
Tower Of Power w/Kymberly

Setlist:
Rock Me*
(Incomplete)

* Jim Morrison appears on-stage with Tower Of Power and Kymberly

Recordings / Film:
Unavailable

Photographers:
Unidentified

Reviews / Info:
-Jim Morrison is invited to play a spontaneous performance in Mexico City by Carlos Baca and Victor Labra.
-Stage equipment at this show belongs to Love Army.
-Love Army is in the audience waiting to go on stage following this performance.
-While in Mexico Jim Morrison attends a performance by Javier Batiz at the Terraza Casino and is invited on stage.

ARCHIVE/MEMORABILIA:



MAGAZINE ARTICLE:


Jim Morrison - The Quid 1970

Jim Morrison - The Quid 1970
Contributed By: MildEquator.com

TRANSLATION:


By Carlos Baca

And there I was in the interior of the bourgeois Quid, guys and gals, to get to the press conferences that Mario Olmos had summoned there. The objective was to present the two foreign groups that Mario brought: "Kimberly" and the "Tower of Power". There was the baptism of reporters and photographers, and some of the bourgeois that regularly visited there. Along with the shaggy foreigners from the mentioned groups, there were the groups' representatives, the Light Shows, etc. There was a good batch of musically knowledgeable foreigners, up to their necks in relief at listening to Love Army's set, who played really well that night; the foreigners didn't know that there was a group that good in Mexico. I walked outside of the place to look for Mario Olmos and see what gossip he brought, when some other guys were entering. I suddenly focused on one of them whose face was super recognisable to me: quite a tall guy with a wavy mane down to his shoulders and a deep and kind of lost stare. I looked closer. Man, it was Jim Morrison! I greeted him and he recognised me (we had also been gossiping in Los Angeles) and he told me with his cross voice in Spanish: "Ah, nice to see you again... How are you?" "Good, and you?" I responded. "Good, thanks..." They kept walking towards where Love Army was - with him was Frank Lisciandro, the guy who made the film "Feast of Friends", inseparable friend of Morrisons - and I found myself with Olmos. "Hey man" I told him. "What's up? Why's Morrison here?" "Because I invited him" he told me. "I brought him as a guest for the concerts." Morrison was going up greeting everyone and walked up to sit in front of Love Army. I sat with the guys from Kimberly on one side. Everyone was screaming and applauding at hearing the original music from the Tijuanan group, and Morrison yelling "Far out, man! Far out!" and applauding them. "El Pajaro", the singer of the group, appreciated the applause and said in English: "Until now you've heard some songs in English, now we're gonna sing in Spanish" and they kicked off with "Ser Libre" ("To Be Free") and some guys kept applauding. One of them asked me "Where are they from?" and I told them Tijuana. The guy turned around and screamed at Morrison "They're from Tijuana!" "Tijuana?" said Morrison, "Far out". "Have you been there? I asked Jim. "Yeah I've been" he responded. The group finished and during the applause Morrison got up and called to the guys from Kimberly to get up on stage. He took the microphone and gave a howl. The photographers piled up around, including those who filmed movies, throwing a stream of light on him. Morrison began to move provocatively, as any chick would say, and he was sliding the microphone between his legs while the group began to play some hard rock. Jim was wobbling and dancing on one leg; suddenly he stopped and made gestures. The band was playing really well. Morrison singing, jumping and moving like a drunk diva, but a diva of Rock and Roll.

The "dirty Morrison", who disgusts the bourgeois gathered in the Forum and almost killed Raul Velasco's taste, was doing his thing again in one of his famous "ego trips" in which he only does things that he likes, to please himself. Parmenides was remembering Mick Jagger and asking who the best rock and roll diva would be, Jagger or Morrison. The oldies were angry again: "Hey you filthy drug addict, you move like a woman, and have you seen how you look like? All filthy!" But the younger guys applauded, happy with the improvised super-show. Morrison was wobbling and jumping on one leg, hanging from the microphone, when - crash! - he took a wrong step and first fell on the drums, then on one of the guys from Love Army who was there and stopped him from hitting the ground. The first part of this was accidental, but then Morrison had followed through on purpose. He has broken the microphone and said "no"... He no longer wanted to continue singing and went to take a seat. The group continued to improvise quite well, good requintos, bass, vocalists and drums. Morrison got up again, grabbing another microphone (Love Army were wondering if he'd break this one, too) and he began to sing "Rock Me" by Steppenwolf. He sat on the pallet, singing, crouching over; he later turned the microphone off (I don't know if on purpose) and complaied that there was no sound, signalling to the microphone. Various guys got up to look for the failure in the amps but didn't find it. Then Morrison's voice could again be heard through the microphone. Dancing, spinning around, jumping and moving his mophead. Totally crazy. Everyone was feeling the vibe from the poet from The Doors. When he was doing moves which were sexy (almost all of them) the girls' eyes were opening wider. It was like that until they finished and Jim flew over to take his seat, and amongst applause, Jim began to applaud too.

When it was all over, we left; Fernando Arrabal, author of "Fando and Lis", whom Mario had also invited, was there too. Morrison saw me again, greeted me again and asked how I was going. I told him good and asked how Manzarek, Krieger and Densmore were. "Very good" he said. Morrison looked sharp, but introverted as always, trying to avoid answering questions. He later said to me "Hey, can you get us two chicks for prayer in the night?" "Well, I'll try", I told him. "Okay. I know that you can't promise anything but do what's possible." Parmenides and I were trying to chat with him. "I read your poem The New Creatures", Parmenides said. "Good", said Jim. "What did you mean when talking about the Aztec Kings in that poem?" I asked him. "What do you think?" he responded. "Uh, well, that's why I'm asking the wavy haired dude for his point of view". "That's what I meant" Jim answered. Then Jim was looking at Parmenides and asked him "Quien es tus nombre?" ("Who is yours name?") "What?" Parménides asked. "Quien tu nombrre?" ("Who your name?") Morrison asked again. "Ah, Parmenides" he said. "Tramenideis", said Jim. The car that they were going in arrived and they left; we stayed to see the new day, before the show, in his hotel.

We got to the new day at the hotel entrance; Parmenides was with his chick and Morrison started to talk with her, while walking back and forth, pacing a lot. His chick arrived, they got it on, then after a while they got off; Parmenides ran off with his one and I stayed to help them get a taxi. Morrison didn't want to talk, only fixate on looking at things and say: "Crazy americanos" when some member of the group of foreigners would pass by. I was humming "Midnight Rambler" by the Rolling Stones. Morrison heard me and said "Ah, the Midnight Rambler". "Have you met Mick Jagger?" I asked him. "Yeah" he said. "Did you see the Stones now that they went to Yankeeland?" I asked him. "No", he responded with a face of boredom. At last a taxi came along and we got in. Along the way, Morrison said that we'd better eat tacos and then pull into Maxim's, to the concerts, but Frank didn't want to. We got to Maxim's and there were grenadiers everywhere; we got out and when those pseudo-apes saw Morrison they began to whistle at him. He smiled and mocking them said "Christ, the police!" But when the grenadiers - short guys - saw Morrison's height they lashed out at the Doors singer, "Shut up!" "Oh, really?" said Morrison's chick. On the walk, he kept smiling at everyone, but without talking. During the concerts in Maxim's he was only a spectator, until Mario Olmos presented him as a special guest; then he got up, shaking hands to show his appreciation for the applause. When the thing was over and we left, that's when I saw him for the first time without a thing on his mind. Smiling freely, he was much more relaxed. But still just as inaccessible, introverted. His stare is very penetrating. The stare with which he annihilates girls in bulk, through his blueish grey eyes. We said our farewells and I thought about the myth of Jim Morrison. The image of a dirty and degenerate guy mixed with the insatiable sex symbol was vanishing after having seen him after the concert. Morrison, in reality, is a really good guy, but very reserved. But when you come across him on the stage, he does become the image that everyone has formed of him. Morrison is a fickle dude, whose fickleness surely depends on the relief or the scourge he brings to your mind. But something I will say about him with absolute respect: He is an arch enemy of the ideals of the Dirty Establishment, and has his own way of rebelling against them in order to do his own thing.

PHOTO 1:
Jim Morrison, on the centre pallet, sings crouched over. "Kimberley" are backing him. Some minutes later he would break the microphone, property of Love Army (who owned all the other equipment they played).

PHOTO 2:
Morrison (signalled with an arrow) after breaking the microphone and saying he didn't want to continue singing. Everyone keeps on watching and listening to "Kimberly". (In the front row, from left to right, Fernando Arrabal, author of Fando and Lis; Jaime (behind); "Perro", requinto of Love Army; Carlos Baca y Parmenides Garcia Saldana).


A Special Thanks to Michael Bradley for his translation of the article for MildEquator.com!




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