I didn’t watch the Grammy Awards the other night, but I saw the highlights all day yesterday on television. I’m kind of glad I didn’t watch the Grammy’s the other night.
I heard there was a huge production for the 50th anniversary of Hip Hop/Rap. Rap started for me Christmas break of 1979 when I bought “Rappers Delight” at the record store in Broad Ripple in Indianapolis.
I packed it in my suitcase gently to bring up to Chicago for my visit with my dad. When I got home I played it for my step brothers.…. Once.
My dad wasn’t going to share the turntable accustomed for Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Gershwin, Coltrane and Ellington.
He must have had a buddy who already went through the experience of the first rap record brought home. My dad was prepared to let me know his feelings towards this new genre.
“Son, rap is short for crap!”
I’m looking up at heaven right now shaking my head, “good one dad,” but rap music has outlived you… you old fart.
Several years later I dropped “1999” by Prince in the cassette deck in my dads Cadillac. I had it cued up to “Lady Cab Driver.” You know the section of the song I had ready to go.
Needless to say the cassette didn’t make it out of the alley as my dad hurled it out of the window somewhere around Bobby Alcocks garage.
My mom knew that song. My mom knew not to come in my bedroom when that song was playing. I wonder if she figured out Prince didn’t have a bed creaking in the background of the song, just the moaning.
My parents, more my dad sure as hell didn’t appreciate the music that
I was listening to forty years ago. I’ve turned into my dad because I can’t stand any of the crap they call music today.
Like my father, I listen to Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Gershwin, Coltrane and Ellington. Though they share the table with Bowie, Prince and the Talking Heads.
Never stop listening to music. It is what makes a good life great.
