Baby you can drive my car
Mar. 21st, 2011 08:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
askygoneonfire One way or another our parents shape our music taste; whether that is because we are busily fleeing anything that sounds like what we were subjected to or because it sounds like home. I'm also of the opinion that, whatever response you have to your parents music taste on the above spectrum, there is always a single band carried on a generation. For me, it is the Beatles.
My Mum - as I have mentioned before - taught me to sing Yellow Submarine as the first song I ever learnt. The Beatles were - and are - to her the single most important music moment in her life and whilst she saw some awesome bands live in the 60s the only story I ever hear about live music in her youth is the one that got away; her Mum went to buy Beatles tickets for her and her brother but by the time she got to the front of the queue they had sold out, so she bought tickets for the Rolling Stones instead ("I don't think she understood there was a difference", is how my Mum consoles herself on that one).
The band I want to gift to the next generation/my children? The Manics of course. Not least of all because they will tie very nicely in with all the books I want to gift to my -as-yet-nonexistent- offspring. What band do you want to pass on? What music could you not, in good conscience, neglect to force on a new generation of listeners?
I think the most interesting and important aspect of this musical inheritance is the way it enables us to bridge the gap in culture, experience and age. I could explain - without ever having to lay it out - to my kid that when I was young I felt alienated and desperate to believe that I wasn't living in an Orwellian nightmare - despite the way my peers might behave. And in listening to the Beatles I learnt about the energy and optimism of my Mum's youth giving way to political upheaval and uncertainty. In listening to the bands she didn't like; David Bowie, the Beach Boys, I learnt about the things she feared and found unsettling. And by having my own responses and connections to albums like Pet Sounds, Ziggy Stardust and Rubber Soul, my Mum had a measure of what kind of person I was that comes through much clearer than any heart to heart could be; you can't fake an emotional connection to music.
My Mum was (and kind of still is - you can't say a bad word about him in our house without her WRATH coming down on you-) a die hard Paul McCartney fan; she was always vaguely dismissive and negative when telling me anything about John Lennon. Bear that in mind as I tell you that tonight came what I think is the clearest reflection of our relationship as mediated through music;
I stuck Rubber Soul on whilst I played with the rats, my Mum was in the bath in the adjacent room and shouted through the door "I still know every word to these!". "Of course you do!" I replied. Shortly after she came out of the bathroom, she pauses for a moment before going into her room and turns to me, saying; "I think you'd have been a John Lennon-er." I smile "yup, I think I would have been."
My Mum - as I have mentioned before - taught me to sing Yellow Submarine as the first song I ever learnt. The Beatles were - and are - to her the single most important music moment in her life and whilst she saw some awesome bands live in the 60s the only story I ever hear about live music in her youth is the one that got away; her Mum went to buy Beatles tickets for her and her brother but by the time she got to the front of the queue they had sold out, so she bought tickets for the Rolling Stones instead ("I don't think she understood there was a difference", is how my Mum consoles herself on that one).
The band I want to gift to the next generation/my children? The Manics of course. Not least of all because they will tie very nicely in with all the books I want to gift to my -as-yet-nonexistent- offspring. What band do you want to pass on? What music could you not, in good conscience, neglect to force on a new generation of listeners?
I think the most interesting and important aspect of this musical inheritance is the way it enables us to bridge the gap in culture, experience and age. I could explain - without ever having to lay it out - to my kid that when I was young I felt alienated and desperate to believe that I wasn't living in an Orwellian nightmare - despite the way my peers might behave. And in listening to the Beatles I learnt about the energy and optimism of my Mum's youth giving way to political upheaval and uncertainty. In listening to the bands she didn't like; David Bowie, the Beach Boys, I learnt about the things she feared and found unsettling. And by having my own responses and connections to albums like Pet Sounds, Ziggy Stardust and Rubber Soul, my Mum had a measure of what kind of person I was that comes through much clearer than any heart to heart could be; you can't fake an emotional connection to music.
My Mum was (and kind of still is - you can't say a bad word about him in our house without her WRATH coming down on you-) a die hard Paul McCartney fan; she was always vaguely dismissive and negative when telling me anything about John Lennon. Bear that in mind as I tell you that tonight came what I think is the clearest reflection of our relationship as mediated through music;
I stuck Rubber Soul on whilst I played with the rats, my Mum was in the bath in the adjacent room and shouted through the door "I still know every word to these!". "Of course you do!" I replied. Shortly after she came out of the bathroom, she pauses for a moment before going into her room and turns to me, saying; "I think you'd have been a John Lennon-er." I smile "yup, I think I would have been."
(no subject)
Date: 2011-04-09 11:02 pm (UTC)The hardest thing for me in determining what music to pass on is deciding what music that I love -or have loved- *isn't* worthy of consideration by future generations. The Violent Femmes and their pioneering use of acoustic bass in contemporary rock and roll. Nirvana and they're incredible importance for anyone who's ever experienced the wide, open prison of depression. Elvis Costello for being sexy and lyrically clever. Tori Amos for being the clear musical offspring of Kate Bush and Joni Mitchell. Bright Eyes for the poetry and music that sounds, at times, as if it emerged from a mixed episode. I don't know where to start (or stop) but I appreciate you asking the question and I've loved thinking about it.
I came across your blog in December when I fell apart with an initial, tentative diagnosis of cyclothymia. I really appreciated that- I stumbled on your writing talent at a time when I really needed to hear from someone whose experiences resonated with mine. Additionally, in January I found this place:
http://www.theicarusproject.net/
and I was wondering if you knew about it, or were on here already? If you're not, I think the community would love to have you if you're at all interested. You sound like you'd fit right in. I won't carry on about it further, but if you're at all keen, check it out.
Anyway, cheers to you...
In solidarity,
Laura