As I type this, my daughter is listening to some loud rap music in the other room.
I can’t help but smile.
She and I have so much in common, yet we’re so different, generationally.
She loves rap, R&B and pop music, but also appreciates some classic rock. But being a competitive dancer, the emphasis is on hip-hop and R&B.
What we share in common is a love of music. As many readers know, I like rock ’n’ roll. I purchased my first album as a young boy. It was an Elvis Presley record (do you think my mother had any influence over that one?).
Next up came the Beatles’ Second Album, a record I still have to this day. From the Beatles, I expanded to the Rolling Stones, Edgar Winter Group, and then onto Kiss. Yes, Kiss. Great gimmick band, and they rocked hard. They were my favourite group for years.
I’ve long loved rock music, as you can see.
As for my daughter, she’s long loved music as well. From an early age, she enjoyed listening to our music around the house and in the car. She watched some concert videos with me as well, even choosing AC/DC’s No Bull as her preferred concert DVD, over the likes of Michael Jackson and a host of other pop artists.
That was many a year ago, and I’m pretty certain if she had a do over, Angus and the boys would lose out.
What is it about youth and music? As a teenager, I used music as a multi-layered form of therapy. It was medicinal: I’d listen to tunes to pump me up, calm me down, or to just chill out.
When in university, I took to blasting Judas Priest’s Hot Rockin’ before writing an exam (to mixed results). To this day, whenever I hear that song (not often enough), I have to turn it up.
Pink Floyd, Yes and early Genesis, were perfect options for chilling out – long prog rock tunes and great musicianship.
There was never any shortage of high-energy music (never disco or country or rap for me, however), just like my girl has no shortage of hip hop options for her today.
Yes, we listen to vastly different music for the most part. But we share the love of a good tune, well-written lyrics, and music that moves us (however different that music is).
While we both love music, we obviously have vastly different beliefs on what is really good music. I used to make fun of a lot of the songs she listened to, but these days, I’m trying to take the time to listen to them a little more closely rather than just pooh-poohing them (I still don’t like rap, but there are artists who are darned good at their craft). It’s another way of paying attention to a sweet teenager who will all too soon be an adult.
And my appreciation to her tunes has left her with more of an open mind when it comes to my stuff. I recently asked her if she’d ever heard of the band Billy Talent, which she hadn’t, but she had heard their song Rusted from the Rain and agreed it was a good tune.
Sure, we have our audio differences. I still don’t think a record player is a musical instrument (it is meant to play in one direction!) and prefer vocalists to actually sing instead of talk (Lou Reed notwithstanding).
I hope she develops various audio triggers, where a certain song or band reminds her of a particular experience (Surfer Bird by the Trashmen, for instance, always reminds me of our time boating on the Trent-Severn Waterway, and Doug & The Slugs will forever remind me of my late friend Glenn Kyle).
Many of my music memories come from hearing songs on vinyl or cassette, playing in the basement as a teenager, or on cassette in the car or on the boat. Today, folks seem to steer clear of albums and snag songs one at a time via download. That’s sad, as there are so many great tunes that go all but unheard as a result.
I like longer tunes and guitar, while my kid, who dances in three-minute spurts, seems more attuned to the shorter offerings with a strong beat.
We like what we like.
The commonality is music.
And sarcasm. She’s really good at sarcasm. I created that monster.
On the barbie
OK, I’ve been away from my Big Green Egg for far too long. That changed recently, in a simple manner.
I had planned on getting back into the grilling swing of things by doing up some burgers Monday night. But Mary Beth wanted some chicken kebabs. No problem. I’d just cook both.
But when she dropped the aforementioned teen off from school and asked her to take the aforementioned meats out of the freezer, said teenager requested salmon.
Some folks would cook one item one night, the next item for the following evening, and the third for yet another evening.
As for me, I did them all in one go. Well two cookings in one night, as I ran out of space on the barbecue for all the food. But that just meant more time outdoors, with the music playing and a cool beverage in hand.
Plus we had leftovers for a couple of days, always a good thing when you have the zany schedule of a dance kid.
