I have an awesome habit of making judgements of someone based on their musical tastes. But then, I must ask myself, “Self (like Chef Emeril), how would you judge yourself based on your own musical tastes?”
Allow me to explain…
My playlist while driving to Detroit last week consisted of:
Mainly because Jason claims to dislike The Beatles, and I think that’s ludacris, so I took advantage of my solo time in the car. (And who made the terrible decision to leave out Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?)
You can see where the trouble comes in, right?
I played tenor/alto sax and have a love affair with violins, what can I say?
I grew up listening to my parents’ music:
Dad The Beatles, The Eagles, Cheap Trick, Alice Cooper, Tom Petty, etc.
Mom Tina Turner, Lorrie Morgan, and all things country.
As a kid in the 80s/90s, I suppose I should’ve been into NKOTB…but I didn’t start hearing popular music until I hit roughly 6th grade. By then, NSync and the Backstreet Boys had arrived. NKOTB were old news.
In junior high, I gained a new group of friends, including my friend Kyle, who introduced me to the Smashing Pumpkins, Hole, Garbage, Metallica, and Nonpoint. I really must thank Kyle for saving my musical livelihood. Sometime during junior high, my friend Sarah and I went to a meet-and-greet with the Smashing Pumpkins, and we went to a Bush concert (our first concert without any parents!). The concert was on a weeknight and started at 7:00pm. By the time the opening act (Moby, whom we obnoixiously booed because we wanted to see that hottie Gavin Rossdale) was done and Bush had set up, we saw a whopping 2-3 songs before our parents arrived to pick us up.
My high school was defined by its “country-ness”. We were a tiny school in the middle of a corn field (literally), and we had Drive Your Tractor To School Day. Our anthems were country classics about farmers, country boys surviving, and pick-up trucks. However, I also had a locker next to Jess, and her boyfriend was in a band with some guys from Urbana called Missing the Point (they all still play together and are awesome, check them out!). Between this new set of friends and my “punk” friends at good old Unity, my tastes were certainly leaning more towards Chucks/Vans rather than cowboy boots. I am simplifying this paragraph beyond belief. Just know, I was a local band groupie, and I don’t care how silly it seems now.
Fast forward to college: I went country line dancing on Wednesdays with my friends and took pleasure in showing the Chicago-ans what it was like to live in the “country” of Champaign-Urbana. Simple as that.
Post college*: I meet Jason, who is a country music fanatic. His love of Eric Church, Jason Aldean and Luke Bryan have certainly rubbed off on me. And they’re all studs, which helps. I have also started listening to more and more classical AND Christian music. When training for the Illinois Half-Marathon, I ran to Prodigy and an odd group of rock-and-rolled classical pieces. If I think about wedding music (I was an event planner, so I am allowed to do that before getting engaged), I want to play Beatles songs while people are waiting for the ceremony, walk down the aisle to a string quartet playing Tonight, Tonight by the Smashing Pumpkins, and walk into my reception to the intro of Marilyn Manson’s The Beautiful People (thank you, Jay Goff). And if Jason has it his way, we will have a live country band.
Is it really possible to truly enjoy all of these different types of music? Do I have to pick favorites? I sure hope not, because this fickle quarterlifer couldn’t handle the decision.
Current Pandora Station: 90’s Pop (Third Eye Blind, Alanis Morisette, Wallflowers, Lit, Christina Aguilera, No Doubt)
*I must thrown in a story of post-college/pre-Jason: My friend Mike (from my Urbana groupie days) convinced me to hit a Lucky Boys show at the Canopy Club. I thought I was certainly too old to participate with these college young-ens. I went. I was coaxed to the front of the stage, on the edge of the “pit”. I proceeded to be slathered in shirtless, drunk college boy sweat. During the last song, I got drilled in the head with a solo cup of beer from across the pit. And it.was.amazing. I can’t thank Mike enough for dragging me to the front of that concert.
40-minute late addition: How could I forget to mention my massive crush on Dave Grohl?