I turned 20 in 1969, and I had the extraordinary good fortune to meet people like Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, John Trudell, and others… Most people of my generation — the sixties generation, living through that golden age — were caught up in the sheer joy of dancing to this music, dancing the way “making love” was described in African-American slang as rock and roll, without really understanding the words of the songs.

And yet, those lyrics were often true poetry. Their meaning mattered just as much to the writers as the music itself. Beyond being a musical revolution, a cultural and intellectual upheaval, the artists who shaped this era expressed their fervent optimism and their visions of free love, but also their heartfelt cries — cries of love, rebellion, and a desperate hope, almost exploding with rage, for a better world for everyone.

Behind their often renegade appearances was a deeply sensitive soul, one that slipped through and revealed itself in their words. As Léo Ferré once said:
“In their souls there was so much blue that all we could see was fire.”