IN 1968, JIM MORRISON WROTE A FAN

letter to Wallace Fowlie, professor of French Literature at Duke University. Morrison had become enamoured with Fowlie’s translation of the poems of Arthur Rimbaud. “I don’t read French that easily,” he confessed. “I am a rock singer and your book travels around with me.” Morrison wouldn’t be the last rock star to find inspiration from the bad boy of 19th century symbolism. Still, it’s quite a shock this month to learn that Noel Gallagher is also a poetry-loving disciple; one of many unexpected insights we discover from a striking new interview with this most quotable and MOJOfriendly of contemporary British rock stars. Our latest issue is full of surprises. You’ll hear about the musical riches of 2019. About the unlikely bond between Prefab Sprout and Spike Lee, and the best way to smuggle a camera into a gig. You’ll discover the link between Solange Knowles and TV property mage Sarah Beeny. And we’ll answer a question that’s troubled rock scholars for decades: did Jim Morrison really get his penis out at the Miami Dinner Key Auditorium in March 1969? “I’m intact,” as Rimbaud said, “and I don’t give a damn!”