An interesting piece ran in the New York Times about Shelia Weller’s new book, Girls Like Us: Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon–And the Journey of a Generation. These three musical pioneers — and true romantics — had the bold task of making sense of romance in the era of “free love.” While each cites traditional romantics as models for their work (Edith Piaf and Billie Holiday for Mitchell, the Gershwins for Simon, Rodgers and Hammerstein for King), there was nary a Cinderella story to be sought in that decade’s feminist movement as women turned away from traditional roles and began to openly explore their sexuality. The question remains, as the article mentions, whether romantic love and promiscuity (for lack of a better word) are compatible. (Ask any college student in America the same question and you’ll see we have yet to reach a conclusion.)

From the 60s, we really have come a long way, baby, both musically and romantically. In the early years of the sexual revolution, it was believed that romantic sex was the most important thing in life (the “Make love, not war” mantra was really taken to heart), and it was clear from the musical canon of the day that there was true passion and all-encompassing emotion backing those soulful words. The real switch in this type of music came with the emergence of Madonna, who celebrated the “body as a machine” rather than the “rapturous surrender” described in the music of times past. (Arguably, she also introduced the body as a publicity stunt).

On today’s average iPod, there seems to be even less of this original passion. We’ve morphed from the “free love” generation to — some say — the “hook up” generation, in which love is traded for apathy at best, bitterness at worst. Is there hope in a society whose popular music instructs us to “Superman dat ho,” or do you guys figure “It’s Too Late?”