It's that simple. You don't need music journalists and a former lounge singer/social psychologist to explain it. And music is pretty simple too despite the idiotic perspectives of the participants in this film. So, not an exaggeration to say, there's never been such a pile of nonsense from lint people as compiled into one film. There's never been a film where the compilation of babble is more important than the content. This film is all over the place, with every conceivable psychotic view as you can think of when it actually comes down to very simple precepts which are as true about the 60s as they are today. But instead of examining what those are, the producers throw the spaghetti against the wall and unfortunately with this kind of attitude of course, everyone will find something about this film that they identify with and nod to, to the exclusion of everything else even if what they agree with is gibberish. In other words, you could argue that the angst and anger they're documenting wasn't caused by anything that the so-called film commentators are telling you but the commentators themselves. "Imagine, if you will", they showed this documentary at woodstock 99. It's simple, don't tell me there's water, when there's not a drop to drink. Don't tell me that I'm angry because kurt didn't lead us into nirvana; I just don't want to pay $4 for a bottle of water. The nineties aren't dead any more than the 60s. You want order and good drinking water go to edc, not some stinking ex-army base out in the middle of nowhere.