Whatever you say, Jim

Now, I tend to do my best to respect artistic works, as much as possible, with the same level of  meaningfulness as their creators did.
Not that I'm an artist (unless you know a gallery where they do shows of putting peanut butter on stuff that nobody's ever thought of and/or breaking wind) (wait, OK, I wasn't thinking about Manhattan there, never mind), but I have been very close to several in my life.
And I reckon that it's just simple good manners to respect what they produce, we'd like to think that it contains things that come from their innermost selves, yes?
Please note that this maxim rarely applies to Hollywood.

So, when it comes to music albums, especially good ones

Yes

Erm, no

I generally try to avail myself of the original lineup of songs, in the original order in which they were issued. I figure the performer probably wanted them enjoyed that way, to some extent or another.

As Grumpy Old Unca Lou said in 1989

in the liner notes to New York, one of the greatest rock and roll albums ever made

It's meant to be listened to in one 58 minute (14 songs) sitting, as though it were a book or a movie.

Wise words, Unca Lou.
Erm, well, except that, like, most folks don't read a book in one sitting.

Anyways, we get the point.
So I generally feel kind of uneasy or even guilty when I avail myself of a Greatest Hits or Best Of or other compilation.
Within reason, obviously, I mean can anyone really blame me for, you know, neglecting to compile the full catalog rather than

No, I didn't think so.
So, when I was in the mood for some Doors, I got the, you know, whole albums, to really experience them the way they meant me to.

And I put on Strange Days

Now, I probably haven't listened to this whole album for nearly 30 years, at least.

I mean, who fucking listens to a whole Doors album????

Except for, you know, flat-chested 19-year-old girls who haven't smiled since Elementary school and wear

for eye shadow, and who are scraping to save up every possible cent from their job as Second Assistant Manager at Sterling Gifts down at the mall to fly to Paris and leave an actual vial of their actual blood

at Jimmy's grave in Papa Chair's...

ANYWAYS, so yeah I started listening.
And after a while, Horse Latitudes came on.
Have you listened to this?
I mean since High School?






Uhhhhhhhhhh, yeah.
OK, Jim.

Raj