Bands change singers, or continue on without their original singers. It happens. But one of the weirder examples of this is the Doors, who actually released two albums after Morrison’s death, with Manzarek and Krieger splitting vocal duties. These are historical oddities, stuff even the band seemed to disown for a while, with neither Full Circle nor 1971’s Other Voices seeing any sort of reissue until the ’00s. It seems sort of insane, in hindsight, that Manzarek and Krieger would try to step in for Morrison, one of the most distinct voices in classic rock. As you’d expect, there’s some ineffable factor missing without Morrison in the equation; they’d lost that specific dynamic of those four men playing off of one another. Every now and then on Full Circle, you can hear traces of the Doors’ past glories. There will be some dexterous guitar line from Krieger, or you could even picture, for a second, Morrison howling over “The Peking King And The New York Queen.” But there’s no getting around the fact that this is nowhere near the quality of the canonical Doors albums. Not only was a key component of their identity missing, a lot of the music doesn’t sound like what we expect from the Doors. Part of that’s cool — it makes you wonder what directions they might’ve gone with Morrison in the ’70s. Mostly, with Manzarek’s and Krieger’s relatively anonymous voices leading the way, the album sounds like the work of a generic ’70s artist that somehow got the wrong band’s name on the cover. (The cover, by the way, also makes this feel totally detached from everything else, which mostly felt as if it all fell within the same general design aesthetic.) Full Circle is an interesting thing to discover now that you can access it easily again, but when you compare it to what came before it’s more of a curiosity than a worthwhile work on its own merits.