Dennis Day to Doris Day is how I describe my musical tastes. A bit of an exaggeration to be sure. However, each generation has a type of music destinctive to it. Going back to my youth it was the advent of rock and roll that roiled the country. Elvis, Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly were favorite artists. At the time it was hard for me to grasp that mellow Frank Sinatra had been a teen heart throb only a decade earlier. Or, that a five year gap between my younger brother and me meant someone liked, much less heard of, the Stones. Then in the early years of what was to become the world’s largest music festival, my excitement that Bo Diddley was performing fell on the deaf ears of my own children.
Music appreciation has to be the quickest change of taste between generations by any measure. This year the Big Gig has nearly 800 bands booked. I look through promotional material and recognize a few names; Rod Stewart, Justin Bieber and the Steve Miller Band. The Backstreet Boys ring a vauge bell. Then I remmeber the Violent Femmes because my kids liked that group when they were young. But, Machine Gun Kelly sounds like 1930’s hood. Lil Wayne? Skillet? All the other names mean nothing to Papa.
I wonder how a musical quiz contest between generations would turn out. Perhaps 50 % actual and 50% made up bands/singers. Ten artists each from the 1950’s and 1960’s versus ten from the last ten years and ten from the last twenty years. Papa has to come into the 21st century while the younger generation has to answer about decent music groups. I’ve listened to snippets of music my grandchildren play and waning hearing become a blessing. To each their own.
At my 60th high school reunion, CDs with tons of songs were distributed to attendees. I play them in my car and I am shocked at how many I recall. Boy, Papa is getting old. But, the tunes bring comfort. Every generation hums along to its memories.