Hair seems to attract a lot of antipathy stemming from the universal and intense hate of Hippies starting in the mid-to-late ’70s (and rightly so, you foul dreamers!), but goddamn if it’s not the greatest rock musical — nay, musical — ever. It is no mere long-haired, groovy celebration of the ’60s counterculture — it is both festival AND real-time criticism! Joan Didion getting a monologue in the middle of Sgt. Peppers. How can people be so cruel? How can they care about the bleeding hearts but not those who need a friend? Where do I go? Should my 5 year-old really be taking LSD? (Yes, says this page of Tolkien, you Beautiful Person!)
There’s the black song, the gay song, the female song, the homeless song, the Vietnam song, the Patriotism song, the dirty words song, the Krishna song, Black boys, White boys, Frank Mills, the Bed… an old fashion melody. Fuck all the White people of 1948. We see Green-Orange, Purple-Pink! Walking in space, oh my god your Skin is soft, I love your face. How dare they try to end this beauty! (Kids, collect call from the future… Yes? They ended it. Bummer, man.) Tell me about it. In the process of sobering up and watching your dreams all crash like that Nazi blimp, you also totally destroyed the efficacy and hope of Liberalism for two or three generations.
Hair and Head — the long hours, days, weeks, years, decades of unfair dismissal end now! Long live 1968. If we’re going to slouch (which we are), let’s at least do it towards Bethlehem and not fucking Orlando. BANG!