Monday, March 28, 2016

Raising Rockers

I'm raising a classic rocker.
Aleda, my daughter, got her start listening to reggae. When she was an infant, I would play Marley and Cliff (and a little Tosh) and dance with her folded in my arms. She would fall right to sleep. As a toddler she had her Laurie Berkner spell, which is kinda okay, but it was supplemented with a lot of the Police and the Clash and, yup, a little PJ Harvey. At around seven-years-old she discovered me listening to Judas Priest and soon leapt from choosing to play the Monkees to listening to BRITISH STEEL... and then Joan Jett... and more Police and Clash on her own. I would douse her in music nightly and she absorbed it all – the alt. (Pavement, Neutral Milk), the pop (Feist), the Led and the prog. (Genesis... all of it). And now she's on her own. I built a Spotify playlist that she navigates for only the classic rock, skipping all my rap selections (unless Run DMC), all my attempts to connect to currently hip bands (does Dr. Dogg count?), for Foreigner, Queen, Nirvana (in her world, they’re “classic rock”) and the King of 'em all, Bowie. She's becoming that kid with the denim jacket and the buttons. If I could just tear 

https://open.spotify.com/user/cartknocker/playlist/4Oryk5EDZMKKIJ3Jvuu0Y3

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