Music makes a mark on everyone.  It creates moods, thoughts and memories.  My parents, and more my dad, loved music.  His albums are ingrained on my brain to this day, anything from jazz to Hawaiian opera.   With my own kids, I’m not sure if I’m leaving a mark on them or them on me.  I think they are defining my tastes.  I am caught in a music generation gap, emerging a new musical self, much more to my family’s liking.

No garage should be without.

When I was growing up, my parents and the kids did not see eye-to-eye on music.   We’d dance in front of the stereo console in the living room, trying to jump softly so the vibrations didn’t make the record skip.  My mom would go along with it for a bit, and then come into the room with body-bobbing knee bends and off-beat, finger snapping.   It was a nice way to tell us it was time to turn it off; she had enough.

We introduced our young guys to early rock and roll, feeling like cool parents in the know.  “We are going to raise rockin’ cool kids.”  Not like my parents that thought it all was noise and you could never listen to the music in the car with them.  Heck, even having an FM radio or any radio was a luxury.  And a cassette player didn’t happen until I bought my own vintage ’76 Capri in 1982. (My dad held on to his wheels.)  My big plan to be the cool music parent didn’t really work out as I hoped.

The Beatles and Beach Boys were the first shared musical experience; preschoolers dig that stuff.  And by elementary school, I learned I was out of touch.  I drove on a field trip for second-graders and played my hip, non-nursery rhyme stuff.  One of the kids called out, “Don’t you have any rock and roll?”  I guess my collection wasn’t “real” rock and roll.  I had to fish around radio stations to find something appropriate for everyone.

Then the guys started introducing bands to us.  Elementary kids are more happening than I’ll ever be.  We didn’t like all of their choices; we were very sorry rap was such a big hit.  I was becoming my parents.  I could only listen to so much non-music, fast-talking rhymes.  We were usually in the car so I couldn’t be pseudo-cool and groove my way into turning it off.  “It’s STRESSING me out! I can’t DRIVE,” I’d exclaim as I turned it off.  I was so not cool and so not like my mom.

Around 5^th grade, my youngest was turning on the radio every time we got into the car.  He’d flip back and forth between stations.  After awhile, I sensed a pattern, “How come every time we are in the car they are always playing the same ten songs?”  I learned it’s a top-ten station so that is all they play.  Oh.  Now those stations are pretty much the only thing I listen to because the “oldies” stations are hit or miss and a little mellow.  The “cool” meter is going back up, I can feel it!  I don’t care if my big white SUV is shaking with “Gangnam Style” when I enter a parking lot.  Actually I kind of forget but if I notice I turn it off.  Don’t wanna look like a “try-hard” mom. (I’m picking up their slang too.)

With the explosion of iphones, my boys started loading up songs and creating play lists.  Instead of flipping on the radio, they plug in the phone for us to listen.  They’ve gotten so good at collecting songs I crave their music.  Very little is top ten.   If I am driving around by myself, I miss the guys, or at least their music.  I think, “Darn it!  Give me some of that stuff.”  I want their playlists. Some of it is so cool and jazzy, and I wonder why I don’t know about it.  I’m listening to their stations now.  How am I missing out?

Guess?

My first revelation was over breakfast at a restaurant, a copy of Rolling Stone Magazine is hanging on the wall.  Whitney Houston is featured on the cover, a tribute the late, great artist. My older son asks, “Who is that?” I’m shocked.  I know something he doesn’t and confidently tell him how big she was in the 80s and 90s.  “Oh, I thought she was Fontella Bass.”  Of course I thought Fontella Bass was some new-century rap star; she’s not.  “Rescue Me” is her claim to fame from 1965 and BOTH boys know ALL about her.  I still can’t win!  And this song is on their playlists.  Middle School band is exposing them to more than the Star Spangled Banner or Pomp and Circumstance.

It was my older son sending me jazz suggestions when my dad was in the hospital.  Those are the songs I posted on the “Mini Bucket List” post.    His jazz appetite was piqued by his middle-school music teacher.  So naturally when we are plugged into his phone I hear, “Say Ya Wanna Know” and I think, “Hey that’s a cool jazz song from the 60s.”  No, it’s from 2011, a young guy, Nick Waterhouse, was influenced by the old jazz classics and wrote his own.  Acura picked it up for their commercials and that’s where my son got it.

Another song on TJ’s playlist sounds like it’s from Ricky Ricardo’s Tropicana Room.  “It’s Afro-Cuban jazz,” my younger one says.   “It’s the hardest to play.” (He’s a jazz drummer.)  I think, “Oh, did you get this one in jazz band too?”  No again.  TJ got it from xBox, playing Black Ops, a military game.  He learned about the Bay of Pigs and recognized Latin jazz music.  He downloaded the song to his iphone.  Who knew how educational those war games could be?

Only one song!

My dad’s old, old jazz records made their way to my house after his passing.  My younger boys started helping me sort through fifty plus records, all single ten-inch records from the 30s and 40s.  I had no idea my dad was that into jazz and big bands.  He didn’t play the old records for us.  It’s ironic I gain an appreciation for old jazz because of what my kids are sharing with me now, closing a 70 year gap I didn’t know I had with my dad.  I’m not so sure they will ever really know what I know, musically speaking.   They’ve heard enough on my playlist to know my collection ain’t their thing.  Instead, I’m asking for their stuff and in a round about way, my dad’s stuff too.  Who knew the new music me could come from my boys?  Maybe I’m just cool enough.

“Music for my ears is music from my family peers.”  Check out their favs and now mine too:

“Say ya gotta know” by Nick Waters (Acura Commercial)

“Quimbara” Pick an artist.  (Black Ops from xBox. )

“Extreme Ways” by Moby from the Born Identity Soundtrack

“Too Close” by Alex Clare (Internet Explorer Commerical)

“Rescue Me” by Fontana Bass

Note:  TJ says, “To make a cool playlist, just search youtube to see what’s interesting to you.”  I say, “Yes with all my free time.  I’ll just copy his list.”