“There will come a time when everybody who is lonely will be free to sing and dance and love. There will come a time when every evil that we know will be an evil that we can rise above.” — The Mothers of Invention, 1967
Yes indeed, I am a child of the Sixties. I grew up in a decade that was filled with optimism. That is, optimism that was destroyed by what was to come.
Some said the good feelings in the early decade were destroyed by the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Some point to the developments that reminded us of the Cold War and confrontations with the Soviet Union. And don’t forget the threat of nuclear war and the Vietnam Conflict.
The spirit of optimism that existed nonetheless was reflected in popular music of the era.
For example, in the spring of 1962, Miss Toni Fisher sang “West of the Wall,” a tune that very directly and sincerely depicted two lovers separated by the Berlin Wall. Its optimism was unmistakable:
“West of the wall I’ll wait for you
West of the wall our dreams can all come true
Though we’re apart a little while
My heart will wait until we both can smile
“The world knows about sadness and we are not alone
West of the wall, that soon will fall, and you’ll come home”
There was blowback for those who openly challenged the notion everything was perky and positive. Just after Barry McGuire crooned the iconic, but hated, “Eve of Destruction,” a hastily formed group called the Spokesman retorted:
“Over and over again, you keep sayin’ it’s the end. But I say you’re wrong, we’re just on the dawn of correction.”
Then as late as 1967, Scott McKenzie sold a lot of records by capturing the optimistic spirit of the Hippie movement with “If You’re Going to SanFrancisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair).”
“All across the nation such a strange vibration People in motion. There’s a whole generation with a new explanation…”
Eric Burdon & the Animals cut an album later that year called “Winds of Change,” in which he praised the City of SanFranciso for being beautiful and leading a movement for new beginnings.
Even cynical groups such as the Fugs got into the notion that things down the road will get better once the young people take over. Tuli Kupferberg said, “A new day is coming” in “Children of the Dream.”
Perhaps the most overly optimistic presentation was that of Tim Buckley in “Hello and Goodbye,” in which he sang about the “antique people are down in the dungeon” while the new generation was rising.:
“And I said good-bye to America, and said hello to the world.”
By 1975, Buckley was dead of a heroin overdose.
Welsh singer Mary Hopkin actually captured the reality of it all with “Those Were the Days” in 1968 when she concluded:
“Oh, my friend, we’re older but no wiser For in our hearts, the dreams are still the same.”
And Neil Innes did the coda with “Crystal Balls,” which I still quote and find appropriate to this day:
“I’ve seen everything I’ve ever hoped and dreamed for, squashed like a hedgehog in the road.”