46 / matters magazine / school 2018 finalmatters M any moons ago, I was taking a break from prac- ticing for my Bar Mitzvah and acci- dentally smashed a microphone across my cheekbone. I blame The Who. Spe- cifically, I blame singer Roger Daltrey, who was my first music idol. In an attempt to emulate his habitual microphone swinging, I misjudged the cord’s arc and received a shiner. Undeterred, I managed to mangle my knuck- les a few weeks later. Once again, I blame The Who. This time, I had tried rather unsuccess- fully to simulate Pete Townshend’s signature guitar windmill moves. My parents had to put up with a lot of my music obsession. My mom and dad valiantly accepted my complete and utter domination of the car radio. I would relentlessly quiz them on road trips. “Quick! Is ‘Whole Lotta Love’ on Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin II, or Led Zeppelin III?” On our first date, my wife and I swapped iPods at a bar to survey each other’s playlists. Yes, it was a litmus test. Luckily, we both passed. Now, although our 4-year-old son and 2-year- old daughter are perhaps a bit too young to become music-obsessed, I hope they follow in the footsteps of their parents. Secretly, I’m looking forward to our kids taking over the car tunes curatorship. Sure, we may need to suffer through some vapid pop and ang- sty ballads. I just hope that will be an extremely short phase. I suppose we can keep the windows closed so the neighbors don’t hear the dreck. Paranoia aside, our kids’ music requests have been promising. My son incessantly asks us to play “Spooky” by the Classics IV. You may not know this gem by name, but you’ll recognize its chorus: “Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you....” My wife and I are well aware that this is earworm Shangri-La. We’re greatly enjoying introducing them to a wide swath of music. For the most part, the kids give high marks to The Talking Heads, The Clash, and John Coltrane. They find Bob Dylan boring, they think Nirvana is too loud, but they dig Debussy. A few months back, I was in music heaven when I took my daughter vinyl shopping on Record Store Day. As we flipped through the records, she was able to observe classic and contemporary album covers. Her favorites included Yellow Submarine (of course), the Andy Warhol banana on The Velvet Underground & Nico, and the debut Run-DMC album. The White Album cover bored her, she loved the cake image on Let it Bleed, but the illustration on the cover of David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs seemed to scare her. Hey, you can’t win ’em all. Although we’ve been in Maplewood for just a year, we’re super-impressed by the musical acumen of the kids in this town. Our son ogles the selection of ukuleles at Finlay + Gage. I’m hoping our young’uns take advantage of the music education programs that abound in our neck of the woods. Of course, this is all part of my master plan. I want to form a family band – a post- post-modern garage rock Partridge Family of sorts. My daughter will shred on lead guitar, my wife will play bass, my son will bash the drums, and I’ll add feedback on rhythm guitar. And it’s going to be loud, as in “This is Spinal Tap, these go to 11” loud. And before you know it, my daughter will guest curate Maplewoodstock and my son will start book- ing for Rent Party. “Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming,” said David Bowie. I’m glad my kids are lis- tening. Fingers crossed. Donny Levit is a writer, journalist, music nerd, and has been known to smash a guitar or two. He is the author of Rock n' Roll Lies, 10 Stories and the editor of new- pulpcity.com, an arts and culture website. Follow him on @donnyreports. What If Our Kids Don’t Like David Bowie? Music Education Starts at Home BY DONNY LEVIT