The Kids Wanna Rock...And Rap

Alice in Wonderland tumbling through the Looking Glass has nothing on me. Lately I’ve been riding the crest of a hip-hop wave thanks to our not-quite-twelve-year-old, Miguel, and I’m beginning to like the weird feelings I’m experiencing.

I am a rock and roll baby. I grew up listening to AOR, AM, FM, and everything in between. My mother brought me to a Dick Clark hosted rock and roll show at the Bushnell Memorial in Hartford, CT, when I was four. I’ve seen Chuck Berry in concert about seven times. I’ve see the Rolling Stones (twice), Springsteen (twice), Bryan Adams (twice), Simon and Garfunkel, Melissa Etheridge, the Talking Heads, Robert Palmer (four times), Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, Journey (three times), Rick Derringer (twice), Peter Frampton (four times), and for this Sunday I snagged a six dollar ticket to see KISS for the first time.

So, yes, I love rock and roll. Yep, saw Joan Jett on a double bill with Cheap Trick at UCONN-Storrs in 1987.

Miguel likes rock and roll, too. He grooves to the Beatles and Chuck Berry and loves Green Day. But lately he has really been into hip-hop and rap, which coincides with his entrance to the larger social (and hormonal) milieu of middle school.

And now that Miguel has hijacked the radio whenever we are in the car together, as I did when I was his age, I’ve been ‘forced’ to listen to his music. At first, I rebelled. I’m earning the not-so-big bucks, so I’ll listen to whatever I want, you feisty whippersnapper.

I even flashed back in time to when I was traveling somewhere with my father. He always wanted to listen to WRCH, which featured elevator music and the soft sounds of Sinatra, Dean Martin, and the Big Band Era. Interestingly, I love that music now, but back then I thought it was awful. I am sure my father felt the same about rock and roll. I am also sure he detests rock and roll today. I wanted rock and roll on WDRC, WCCC, WHCN, and WAQY. So my father relented either out of a strong sense of paternal love or submission to his independent-minded teen.

Lately, though, I’ve actually been enjoying much of Miguel’s music. I even uploaded three songs to my iPod, and the other day I couldn’t stop singing Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor.

My initial rejection of hip-hop and rap was that many of the lyrics denigrate women and use language that isn’t appropriate for Miguel. But as I listen to the songs, and hip-hop stations seem to play the same ones 2-3 times each day, I’ve learned they are no more or less harmful than any of the rock music that pours into my brain everyday on the radio and iPod. And I could use hip-hop as an opportunity to discuss values and other important issues with Miguel.

Take one of the songs Miguel really loves these days, Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo. It’s about how he got caught cheating on his girlfriend and is now begging for her forgiveness:

I was so wrong for so long. Only tryin' to please myself (myself). Girl, I was caught up in her lust. When I don't really want no one else. So, no I know I should of treated you better. But me and you were meant to last forever. So let me in (let me in) give me another chance (another chance). To really be your man. Cause when the roof cave in and the truth came out. I just didn't know what to do. But when I become a star we'll be living so large. I'll do anything for you. So tell me girl. Mmmm whatcha say, Mmm that you only meant well? Well of course you did. Mmmm whatcha say, (whatcha say). Mmmm that it's all for the best? Of course it is. Mmmm whatcha say, Mmm that you only meant well? Well of course you did. Mmmm whatcha say, (whatcha say). Wha- wha- wha- wha- what did she say?

I said to Miguel after we heard it for the third or fourth time that day, “Do you know what the song’s about?”

“He’s sorry about cheating on his girlfriend?”

“Yes,” I said. “But would he have been sorry if he hadn’t gotten caught?”

“Probably not,” he said.

I actually like the song a lot. The chorus is very sweet and I love to watch Miguel stick his hand out, close his eyes, and sing along. But I also want him to begin to understand a little bit about relationships and treating people right.

Another song he digs a lot is La, La, La by LMFAO:

I feel like I just seen the sun for the first time. You make my life bright cuz you shine. It's me and you baby, it's our time. I'm living my dream, girl cuz you mine. You got me skippin down the street. And singin love songs all out of key. I didn't smoke nothin but I feel so high. And I know why. It's a love thing, it's got to be. Your heart's all locked and I got the key. It feels like I just won the lottery. Cuz I got my girl and she got me. You my new obsession. All I want to do. You my new obsession, girl. I feel on top of the world wit you baby. I want to dance and party tonight. I feel on top of the world wit my lady. I'm gonna rock your body all night. She makes me wanna sing. La, la la la (8x)

I haven’t felt the need to talk about it, but the other day Miguel said, “Do you know what LMFAO stands for?”

“No,” I said. I still don’t know how to text from my cell phone.

“Laughing my effing ass off,” he said.

“What?!?”

“Laughing my…”

“OK,” I interrupted, “I got it.”

Still, though, Miguel is impressed that I have been open to listening to hip-hop and, to a lesser degree, rap and that I am appreciating both genres.

“Aren’t you glad I got you into hip-hop music?” he asked me the other day.

“Yes.”

Then he got wide-eyed when I told him I used to commandeer the radio from my father just as he’s done to me.

“Really?” he said. “Did Zadie (the Yiddish name for grandfather) get into your music?”

“No way.”

So it’s a generational thing. I know I am getting older when the rebellious and also corporate-driven rock and roll of my youth is no longer cool enough for my hip-hop adoring son, just as I once eschewed the un-cool sounds of Dinah Shore, Count Basie, and Mantovanni.

But I am big enough to admit that a lot of the music on Movin’ 99.7 and Wild 94.9 is exciting and great to listen to. So excuse me, please, but I’ve got to evacuate the dance floor:

Turn up the music. Let's get out on the floor. I'll like to move it. Come and give me some more. Watch me getting physical, out of control. There's people watching me. I never miss a beat. Steal the night. Kill the lights. Feel it under your skin. Time is right .Keep it tight. Cuz it's pulling you in. Wrap it up. Can't stop cuz it feels like a overdose. Oh, oh, evacuate the dancefloor. Oh, oh, I'm infected by the sound. Oh, oh, stop, this beat is killing me. Hey Mister DJ let the music take me underground. My body's aching. System overload. Temperature's rising. I'm about to explode. Watch me I'm intoxicated. Taking the show. It's got me hypnotized. Everybody step aside. Steal the night. Kill the lights. Feel it under your skin. Time is right. Keep it tight. Cuz it's pulling you in. Wrap it up. Can't stop cuz it feels like a overdose. Oh, oh, evacuate the dancefloor. Oh, oh, I'm infected by the sound. Oh, oh, stop, this beat is killing me. Hey Mister DJ let the music take me underground. Come on and evacuate. Feel the club is heating up. Move on and accelerate. Push it to the top. Come on and evacuate. Feel the club is heating up. Move on and accelerate. You don't have to be afraid. Now guess who's back with a brand new track. That got everybody in the club going mad. So everybody in the back get your back up on the wall. And just shake that thang. Go crazy, yo lady, yo baby. Let me see you work that thing. Now drop it down low, low. Let me see you take it to the dancefloor, yo (Everybody in the club!). Evacuate the dancefloor (Everybody in the club!). I'm infected by the sound (Everybody in the club!). Stop, this beat is killing me. Hey Mister DJ let the music take me underground.