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Rockin' With The Kids

I went to a rock concert with my 18-year-old daughter last weekend.

I love the fact that she and I like a lot of the same music, but for her to actually ask me if I wanted to go to a show with her was, I thought, pretty darned cool.

It would have never happened when I was 18. I loved my parents dearly, but there was no way Mom or Dad was going to go see Styx or Kansas or Frank Zappa with me. Or any way on earth I would have ever asked them to.

But there we were, my daughter and I, at Turner Hall in downtown Milwaukee, enjoying the punk-pop of The Smoking Popes. And this wasn't my first invitation from her. We were originally planning to see OK Go in Chicago, but when I found out their appearance was part of an all-day music event, I backed out. I haven't done an all-day concert since 1983, when I went to old Comiskey Park in Chicago to see a lineup that included The Police, Joan Jett, A Flock of Seagulls, The Fixx, and Ministry.

I'm really not that much into current popular music. I look at the top 10 songs in the Kicks section and often don't recognize a single song title. Some folks at work were talking about going to see Daughtry perform, and I thought they meant Roger Daltrey, the retirement-aged lead singer for The Who. Friends of mine are surprised that I have never watched “American Idol,” the launchpad for today's music stars. So pop culture is flying past me faster than a Lamborghini with Illinois plates.

A significant bridge was built across the generation gap by, of all things, Guitar Hero III. That particular game introduced me to newer music that I was unfamiliar with, while exposing my kids, particularly my 16-year-old son, to everything from ZZ Top to the Sex Pistols. We both liked a lot of our discoveries.

It's interesting that rock staples from 30-35 years ago are still popular. It's not unusual to hear my son playing what sounds like a “best rock licks of the '70s” medley on his electric guitar. I am amazed that “Don't Stop Believin'” by Journey – a song first released when I was in college 29 years ago - is a huge hit with teens. To put that in perspective, 29 years before “Don't Stop Believin'” was released, rock and roll music did not yet exist. This fact might explain why my parents and I had no musical common ground, while my kids and I do. My parents' musical points of reference were Nat King Cole or Les Paul and Mary Ford.

I love all sorts of music, but I can't play a note. I tried to learn piano once, but when we got to the part where I had to use both hands at the same time, I was toast. I would look at the notes and know what my hands were supposed to do, but there was a definite disconnect between my brain and my hands. I feel incredibly blessed that my kids not only share my love of music, but can play it and play it well. Even though I can't play along with them, at least we can enjoy listening together.

And that's why I felt very proud while I was getting my ears blasted in a concert hall in Milwaukee last week.

The band we went to see, The Smoking Popes, is from Chicago, but they do a song called “Welcome to Janesville.” It's a terrific song, but if you're from Janesville, you might find the lyrics none too flattering: “No matter how many ways you try/To kiss this place goodbye/It lives in you till the day you die/Say the words with a tear in your eye/Welcome to Janesville.” Hear the song here.

I wondered why they would do a song about Janesville. Had they read about the city's recent struggles or did one of the band members have a connection to the city?

As it turned out, right after the show was over, I spotted Popes lead singer/songwriter Josh Caterer headed toward the merchandise table. I intercepted him to ask about the origins of “Welcome to Janesville.”

Because my ears were still ringing, the room was loud, and he had a mouth full of cookie, I admittedly didn't hear all of his answer. But what I did understand was that the song wasn't about Janesville specifically. One of the factors they considered was that they liked the name of the city because “it has a girl's name in it.” I didn't have the heart to tell him it was named for Henry Janes.

So how did they even know Janesville existed? “One of our very first gigs was in Janesville, at the Pizza Pit.”

Must have made quite an impression.