Woodstock was about the closest thing to anarchy I've ever seen in my whole life, and I didn't like it.
I know about Woodstock probably as much as your average person who is over 30, where I'd know Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Grateful Dead.
Though it's frequently portrayed as this crazy, unbridled festival of rain-soaked, stoned hippies dancing in the mud, Woodstock was obviously much more than that - or we wouldn't still be talking about it in 2009. People of all ages and colors came together in the fields of Max Yasgur's farm.
The only reason Woodstock was necessary is because they didn't have iTunes.
Kerouac opened a million coffee bars and sold a million pairs of Levis to both sexes. Woodstock rises from his pages.
Woodstock was both a peaceful protest and a global celebration.
I'm higher than a hippie at Woodstock
If every vampire who said he was at the crucifixion was actually there, it would've been like Woodstock.
I was living in Woodstock for a long time, and I thought, I got to get out of here, man.
I'd have to say that the 1994 Woodstock completely destroyed anything that came after it.
But when I played Woodstock, I'll never forget that moment looking out over the hundreds of thousands of people, the sea of humanity, seeing all those people united in such a unique way. It just touched me in a way that I'll never forget.
Over the years Woodstock got glorified and romanticised and became the event that symbolised Utopia. It's the last page of our collective memory of the age of innocence. Then things turned ugly and would never be the same again.
When they said "Make love, not war" at Woodstock, they never imagined that one would become as dangerous as the other.
