I recently dumped a bunch of Rockabye Baby albums onto my Apple TV for use when trying to lull the two-month-old to sleep. If you're not familiar with Rockabye Baby, just try to envision your favorite music by Bob Marley, Tool, The Foo Fighters and Kanye all played on the glockenspiel and marimba. Somehow it works, though it's an odd feeling to rock your baby to sleep whilst singing U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" or Green Day's "When I Come Around." Who knows what kind of music this kid will be into someday.
My oldest son is six and I'm constantly bewildered at his tastes. Today he really wanted to hear the Back to the Future theme when I picked him up from school. This lead to a lengthy discussion on the time-space-continuum as well as DeLoreans ("Does smoke and steam really come of the doors when they open?"). Last night I drove the kids to the bowling alley and they requested some indie stuff I'd been playing by The Lumineers, Foster the People and Of Monsters and Men. And this is the really weird thing. On the way home, they request Willoughby Wallaby Woo by Raffi.
About eight damn times in-a-row.
Kids have zero sense of style and taste. No one digs Mumford and Sons and Raffi with equal intensity like a child. Have you listened to Raffi? Of course you have. We all grew up with a white Raffi cassette in our parent's station wagon. And I'm here to tell you: Raffi is brutal. It's an assault on your ears and probably violates a great many of your basic human rights. Every Raffi "song" starts off with the exact same guitar chords and intro. Play Name That Tune with Raffi. I defy you to correctly name any of his songs in the first four seconds. They're all the same -- and son of vondruke if they're not as catchy as anything you'll ever hear (incidently my favorite catchy commercial jingle right now can be found here -- it's amazing what you'll see on TV during a 2AM feeding). It still astounds me that my kids will tell me to pick a new song because what I'm playing isn't rockin' enough, but they're still completely enthralled by Old McDonald. All of which, I suppose is the essence and innocence of being a kid. When you're a kid, you don't care what people regard as good music, and you don't worry about what other people like. You enjoy whatever makes you move your feet or sings you to sleep. It's kind of why I'm not a huge of fan of the term 'guilty pleasure.' I like what I like, and so what if it's not cool.
Huey Lewis ringtone: check.
William Shatner's Has Been album on my iPhone: check.
Girl Talk's All Day as the soundtrack to my office at work: absolutely.
Cool is overrated.