1/28/2024 0 Comments Dad listening to music memeBut even if I never went into music journalism to begin with and chose to become strictly an Occupational Therapy Assistant (which I am going to school for), I’d still have been digging in dusty record bins and checking Pitchfork for those BNM-rated titles. True, I listen to music for a living and might have more exposure to the new sounds of now than the guy in a NY Jets jersey picking up his kid from school the same time as me. Speaking of which, I’ve been revisiting some of my old friends from the early days of MTV as well like Spandau Ballet, OMD and Tears for Fears, shit, even Wham! But now, at the cusp of 43, my listening behavior continues to veer further and further into the deep chasms of classical and jazz while at the same time I find myself listening to more Top 40 pop than I have since the 1980s. I could say I was listening to Sonic Youth and Big Daddy Kane and the Dead Milkmen back then, but then I’d be lying to you. My cassette rotation in my Walkman at the time consisted of Elvis Costello’s Spike, Lou Reed’s New York and the Rolling Stones’ Steel Wheels. I had the taste of a 45-year-old when I was a high school freshman. If it hits me in the head and the heart simultaneously, it stays in the collection. Music has always been music to me, regardless of what generation from which it spawned. In May, the 4AD label released a five-disc tribute album to the Dead in conjunction with the Red Hot Organization that features a grab bag of artists who straddle the line between nowhere near “dad rock” (Courtney Barnett, Perfume Genius, Anohni, Marijuana Deathsquads, Fucked Up, Tim Hecker) and those on the tail end of the spectrum (The War On Drugs, Kurt Vile, Phosphorescent, Real Estate, Mumford & Sons, Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks) along with several artists whose music has never nor ever be will be pinned down by such a superfluous catchphrase (Ira Kaplan, Lee Ranaldo, Vijay Iyer, Bela Fleck, The Flaming Lips, Orchestra Baobab).īut here’s the thing, I’m a dad, and with the exception of Mumford & Sons (who I absolutely loathe), I listen to all of those aforementioned featured acts whether they are covering the Grateful Dead or not.Īt any given moment in my car you might catch me listening to Drake’s Views or Clapton’s August or the new Deftones record, it all depends on where my head is at while I’m in the moment. So now you have five decades worth of acts who have been piled together under this godforsaken handle to even further polarize the generations despite the fact that bands like The Grateful Dead, Paul Simon and The Beatles (especially the solo works of George Harrison and Paul McCartney) are as popular as ever among the demographic who habitually use the term “dad rock.” Music has always been music to me, regardless of what generation spawned it.
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