The roar that followed wasn't applause. It was a release of tension. The crowd screamed because they were terrified and electrified. Morrison stood up, stripped off the last vestiges of his shirt, revealing a torso that looked like a map of a civil war. He took the mic, the cord snaking around his ankle like a python.

Unlike the more subdued and focused first show, the second performance is characterized by its rambling, improvisational nature. The band moved away from their typical LSD-influenced psychedelic antics toward a "funky blues" sound that would later define the Morrison Hotel L.A. Woman Atmosphere