Music for the next generation
Inevitably, some of the songs your parents liked are ones also like today. I'm proud to say, that is holding true for the next generation.
In the early '80s, my parents loved listening to oldies stations, at a time when the format was just becoming popular. These stations played oldies my sisters and I had never heard, stuff from the 1950s that we wouldn't occasionally hear on more mainstream stations such as WLS. And my parents loved it, because in the days before MP3s, music videos, and even CDs, there wasn't much of way to relive those memories. I remember their excitement one Saturday night in the car of hearing "Leader of the Laundromat" for probably the first time in a couple decades.
Did I pick up a love of those old, old songs? Not really, but I did emerge from my childhood loving the Beatles, just like my parents did. There's sometimes no way around it -- the things your parents love become the things you love.
Today, our kids cannot avoid the music we love. Top 40 stations practically don't exist, and with so many options, why would an adult want to listen to unfamiliar "new" songs when they can turn the dial (yes, I know, dials don't really exist on the modern car radio ...) to a classic rock station or an '80s station or an oldies station that plays stuff from the '90s (yikes!)? And if there's nothing on the radio I like, I can easily plug my iPod in or stream an oldies station.
Michael begrudgingly accepts this state of affairs, and I try to encourage him to listen to my music that I think he would like. I've been trying to push on him Van Halen and Led Zeppelin, thinking he, as a guitar player, would appreciate Eddie Van Halen and Jimmy Page.
Ben, on the other hand, unabashedly loves some of the songs I listen to. And yesterday, he surprised me with how much he does listen to whatever I'm playing.
"Rio" by Duran Duran came on the radio, and he instantly asked me to turn it up. This was impressive in itself, but then when the version of the song (being played on an oldies station instead of the classic alternative station -- that should have been the first clue) cut off most of the bass and sax bridge, he angrily exclaimed, "Where's the middle of the song?"
I've never been prouder. It makes me think he's ready for a Styx concert. Or the Violent Femmes, who are playing Salt Lake this summer. He might not understand the lyrics, but he'll have fun listening to the music his parents love.
In the early '80s, my parents loved listening to oldies stations, at a time when the format was just becoming popular. These stations played oldies my sisters and I had never heard, stuff from the 1950s that we wouldn't occasionally hear on more mainstream stations such as WLS. And my parents loved it, because in the days before MP3s, music videos, and even CDs, there wasn't much of way to relive those memories. I remember their excitement one Saturday night in the car of hearing "Leader of the Laundromat" for probably the first time in a couple decades.
Did I pick up a love of those old, old songs? Not really, but I did emerge from my childhood loving the Beatles, just like my parents did. There's sometimes no way around it -- the things your parents love become the things you love.
Today, our kids cannot avoid the music we love. Top 40 stations practically don't exist, and with so many options, why would an adult want to listen to unfamiliar "new" songs when they can turn the dial (yes, I know, dials don't really exist on the modern car radio ...) to a classic rock station or an '80s station or an oldies station that plays stuff from the '90s (yikes!)? And if there's nothing on the radio I like, I can easily plug my iPod in or stream an oldies station.
Michael begrudgingly accepts this state of affairs, and I try to encourage him to listen to my music that I think he would like. I've been trying to push on him Van Halen and Led Zeppelin, thinking he, as a guitar player, would appreciate Eddie Van Halen and Jimmy Page.
Ben, on the other hand, unabashedly loves some of the songs I listen to. And yesterday, he surprised me with how much he does listen to whatever I'm playing.
"Rio" by Duran Duran came on the radio, and he instantly asked me to turn it up. This was impressive in itself, but then when the version of the song (being played on an oldies station instead of the classic alternative station -- that should have been the first clue) cut off most of the bass and sax bridge, he angrily exclaimed, "Where's the middle of the song?"
I've never been prouder. It makes me think he's ready for a Styx concert. Or the Violent Femmes, who are playing Salt Lake this summer. He might not understand the lyrics, but he'll have fun listening to the music his parents love.
Comments