Daddy’s little rocker

Throughout my life, I’ve been one to appreciate great music when I’ve heard it. Not the pop crap you get nowadays, but the great and passionate rock’n’roll goodness.

One of my earliest memories and certainly one of my fondest ones, was set in the passenger seat of my dad’s truck, chomping down soggy toast that grandma had given us on the way to school. Every single morning, on the way to my grandma’s house and then school, my dad would find a new but classic band for me to listen to. I remember listening to my dad speak about the bands with such passion, as I looked wide-eyed at his bearded face as I munched on my over buttered toast.

If you ever have the pleasure of listening to my dad talk about his passion for music, you’ll understand me when I say you can truly tell how proud he is to of been apart of that musical era. After all, dad grew up with it on his doorstep, apart of the greebo, rocker, punk times. I have to say, hand on heart, music has built one mighty bond between him and I. Out of everything we share common interest in, music has always won.

We used to listen to all sorts, ever album he has, I’ve heard at least once. It makes me laugh now sometimes, when my dad puts on something different for a change, and I find myself knowing the words after years and years of not hearing that very song. In fact, it won’t just be the song, but the entire bloody album.

Now, I’ve been pretty lucky on the music front if I may say so myself. At just 11, I attended my first ever concert. It completely stunned me if I remember correctly. I was completely taken back, as car stereo to live show is quite a change in scenery. I can’t remember everything about that night, although I do remember a lot, the one thing that stood out was the smile on his face. My mums too. That and the dreadlock weirdo hitting my mum in the back of the head with his hair. Good times, good times.

It’s funny because I’ve always been different, right from a very young age. I don’t wear what most girls wear, I preferred mud and football to dolls and makeup and I didn’t like the music everyone else liked. Up until year 6, I never had a problem with being the weird kid. I had friends, I was liked but I could still be myself. I can’t remember why exactly, but I became ashamed of not being able to sing with my friends, the latest songs of 2012. I took it upon myself to learn to like that music, maybe then I could sing along with them too. Let me tell you now, that did not last very long. A month maybe? Long story short, I hated the music and I hated trying to be something I wasn’t.

Pretty quickly after that, more than ever before I was proud of who I was. I went into high school (year 9) proud of being different, and unlike every other girl. My music taste didn’t broaden at all, I just got more and more into it. As I said before, I liked my music before and I’m pretty sure I’ve been a Black Sabbath fan since the age of 5, but after a series of very annoying and unfortunate events in my life occurred, I became more dependant on music than ever.

Falling ill sucks, and boy did I struggle with the whole chronic illness concept for a while. I tell no lie, I still struggle now but not half as bad. I remember being stuck in my bed, with my newly bought iPod I had been given for Christmas, and listening to the same songs on repeat. It wasn’t until several months later, after making it out of bed, I started watching the music show ‘Kerrang’. Again, like I’ve mentioned before, I’ve always been a fan of rock and metal, and everything in-between. However, I got into the programme fairly quickly. I can’t remember which happened first, but near enough the same time, dad introduced me to a band called Slipknot. My dad isn’t a huge fan himself, although I dragged him to one of their live shows, but he told me how the band’s identity was unknown until someone put two and two together. That story alone made me one of the biggest slipknot fans out there.

It was soon afterwards, I got into heavier music than what I was used to, like Motionless In White and Bullet For My Valentine. I went through that kind of awkward stage of trying to be super gothy. I’m so thankful for the lack of photos taken during that time. Never again. My passion for all sorts of different music grew, and my mum and I would listen to it in the car when she carted me around to get some fresh air. My poor mother, some of the stuff I played was bloody awful.

I could talk forever about music. After finding my own feet in the music spectrum, my music taste is kind of how it used to be. I got tired of the whole weird screaming music, and found the type of music I do actually really like. For me and not just because every other weirdo liked that band. I got heavily into Five Finger Death Punch about two years ago, heavy enough while still being capable of understanding the damn words. Luckily for me, I got the entire family into them. We’re actually seeing them in December, and its safe to say I’m not the only one excited. Although nothing will compare to my forever favourite band ACDC.

I have a million music memories, shared with all my family, including the million and one concerts my dad and I have ended up at. I’ll talk about that another time though. One memory that really sticks out to me, is the day my dad said something along the lines of ‘you wouldn’t be where you are now without the soul of music’. As cheesy as that may sound to some, he’s right. Music has kept me going when many times I’ve just wanted to sit back and give in. I’ll be forever thankful for my dad making music such a huge part of my life.

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