As Jimbo himself said, the future's uncertain and the end is always near.

So, sensing the end and looking at what the dodgy future might hold, The Doors of the 21st Century became Riders on the Storm.

Jimbo, of course, is Jim Morrison, who died in 1971. He used to sing for The Doors, whose legacy has been kept active by Doors founding members Ray Manzarek and Robbie Krieger. With ex-Cult singer Ian Astbury in Morrison's place, The Doors of the 21st Century was conceived to tour. They were at the Coliseum in July. From all reports, they were great, but the attendance wasn't. Wounds licked, name changed, Manzarek, Krieger and Astbury are at the much smaller Commodore, which should make Doors appreciation easier, although at more than twice the price. At least it will have more impact.

Riders on the Storm refers to one of The Doors' most atmospheric songs, also one of Morrison's last recordings. By this time, 1970, he was a pudgy alcoholic with a beard, not at all like the unspeakably handsome godlike figure of 1967. Presumably, he let himself go because it was his way of escaping the many things that troubled him, not least of which was his teen-idol status. He wanted to be a poet, an artist, a visionary of some kind. Instead he was screamed at by girls, scoffed at by the intelligentsia. So he drank, had drugs, took advantage of the excesses that rock stardom could offer. His death in Paris created a hell of a mess.

Manzarek and Krieger and, initially, drummer John Densmore (who retired and is replaced by Ty Dennis), finally cleaned it up and discovered that The Doors sold almost as many records posthumously as the band did when Morrison lived. Besides, Manzarek and Krieger can't escape being ex-Doors so they might as well exploit it. There have been boxed sets, retrospectives, unearthed concert tapes, videos, DVDs and a Doors movie that have created a Jim Morrison mythology.

How well that mythology translates into contemporary terms might be measured by the change in name and smaller venue. That is, fewer people get it, or have time for it.

In 1967, after "Light My Fire," the first big hit, aired, listeners had never heard anything like it. The voice was imposing. It dared you not to pay attention and the music supporting the voice was exotic, sympathetic, dynamic. Ultimately, it was seductive. On the cover of the first album, the band looked inscrutable as if they knew something you didn't and Morrison just looked like he knew it all. Who else was mixing Kurt Weil and Eastern modalism, Huxley mind expansion with Freudian sexuality?

In 2005, we have iPods, which offer thousands of musical selections. The reconstituted Doors, whatever they call themselves, are just one of them.

tharrison@png.canwest.com

CLUB SHOW

RIDERS ON THE STORM

Where: Commodore Ballroom

When: Tonight at 9:30

Tickets: $85 at Ticketmaster