Dogpile on Music!!!!

What is it about Dad's and their music?  I've never heard any Mom's talk about the musical influences they want to instill in their children, although I'm sure there are some out there who do.  But I couldn't let everyone else weigh in on this without adding my voice to the chorus. 

In the months leading up to the birth of my daughter, when we thought about being parents and having a little version of us running around, I spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about where the stereo in her room would be, how soon she'd get an iPod, and what band names would be plastered all over the onesies.  Music, as Peter so aptly pointed out, isn't just something I listen to, but it's a part of my life, just as this child would be.  It just made sense that the two should be interrelated.  After all, if I were to reflect on the poignant moments in my life which carried the emotional weight of who I was and how I felt at the time, more often than not it was defined by the music playing at that time.

I was a late bloomer when it came to music.  My parents never listened to it much, and aside from Sesame Street and soft drink commercials I didn't get much exposure.  It must have always been in the background, though, burrowing into my head, because when I finally found an old transistor radio (remember those?) in my basement and tuned into KJRB I immediately recognized everything they played.  That kicked open the floodgates for me:  I obsessed over Casey Kasem's Top 40 Countdown, and religiously watched Solid Gold as if Marilyn McCoo were Athena speaking from Delphi.  Within no time, music became an extra dimension in my life...something which was always there which added depth and space to any moment.

How do I know?  When I think of my best friends from high school, I think of fish-tailing in an old Chevy with "T.N.T." blasting on the radio.  I remember lying in my bedroom with the lights out listening to "Brothers in Arms" more clearly than I remember my high school prom.  When I think of my college roommates, I think of Eric Clapton and Garth Brooks, because that's what they listened to.  I remember what was on the radio when I first drove into Minneapolis after moving away from home ("No Rain" by Blind Melon), what was on the radio when my I met my first girlfriend ("7" by Prince), and the song that was playing when we broke up ("Yesterday" by Guns 'n' Roses...so romantic).  I remember wearing out Dookie, August & Everything After, Being There, God Shuffled His Feet, and Irresistible Bliss.  I remember dragging my friends to see Cheap Trick (three times), Joan Jett (twice), and Rancid (once, but what a show!).  I can barely remember who I dated or what I was doing during all those years, but these moments are the significant ones...the ones that resonate long after the fact.

So, do I want my child to enjoy music?  Hell yeah!  And not just because I want her to be cooler than the rest of the kids (she will be) or because I want to twist her into an idealized version of myself (which I probably do subconsciously).  I want her to appreciate it and internalize it so she can experience that extra dimension which I feel I've had.  I want her to close her eyes when she hears "Into the Mystic", or punch the accelerator when Jimmy Page starts tearing up the last minute of "Stairway to Heaven," or respond in whatever natural way she does to the music that will be swirling around her as she gets older--which will NOT, if I have anything to say about it, include anything involving a Britney, Christina, or Spice Girl. 

For now, I'm content to let Mozart and the Wiggles be her primary sources of musical input.  You can't learn to read by starting with James Joyce, after all.  But I sing her to sleep with the White Stripes, or the Stones, or the occasional Human League or Duran Duran song when memory fails me.  Maybe someday I'll be banging on her bedroom door, telling her to turn that blasted music down, but hopefully I'll be the dad who, realizing she's listening to London Calling, just smiles and walks on.