When The Music's Over by The Doors has this particular quality of starting softly with this familiar groove of them, allowing us to instantaneously sink as if it was in media res into the mood it exalts and sweats. The rhythmic section could infinitely go on repeating the scheme but where stands the real magic of this song is the strength supplied, brought and delivered on the one hand by Jim's prophetic vocals, backed-up by, on the other hand, Robby's accurate and extraterrestrial guitar-playing. Who ever said rock music could not functionally associate with minds and spirits ? Indeed, as soon as 1967, The Doors proved to the world there were no boundaries to the art of rock 'n' roll, already giving us glimpses of future musics, thinking of both progressive & protopunk genres.
When the music's over, seemingly time to let you go, into deep meditation of what you think you are and what you really are, before it eventually starts sounding again ; sometimes to repeat itself, sometimes to reach new coloured mindscapes, taking back to the deep silence all the mystery of its existence, – rhythm, notes, tones, pauses and counter-times stirred altogether in a void – which remains somehow all the mystery of existence itself. The song then starts to seethe, reaching its boiling point at Robby's majestic solo of his own, before cooling down to an even colder pattern, letting Jim take over and deal with what the essence of the song, if not even the band's, is really about : Huxleyan full awareness, where all is one and one is all, – music & silence, love & hatred, mind & body, human & nature, life & death – and I know it won't stop. And we all know it will never stop. To quote Will Farnaby, 1962 Island's main character, after having eaten moksha-medicine and listening to John Sebastian Bach's Fourth Brandenburg : "Eternity, my brethren. […] Eternity, Believe it or not, it's as real as shit".