I closed out my eMusic account the other day. I had steadily fallen out of love with the service over a year or so. For three months I had the account on hold, and didn’t miss it, so canceling it seemed like a good way to trim from the household budget. During three months on hold, I didn’t give eMusic $36, and only spent $12 on music (at Target). At that rate, I’ll save about $80ish a year. That buys a lot of baby food.
Which brings me to the mindset I occupied while selecting my final tracks. A little daddy imp found its way to my shoulder, and through the whole process kept whispering, “Would you jam to that with an impressionable kid around?” I listen to all kinds of music, and was grooving to a Kool Keith b-sides release on the site. No, the imp admonished. I checked out a Danzig release, his first, out of sheer nostalgia. (I met Danzig once. He’s really short. But that’s another post.) Nixed by the imp. So, I settled on Pearl Jam: few swear words (if any) and music that rocks, but not usually hard enough to scare anyone. The imp approved, so I downloaded “Vitology” and spent the rest of my credits on several singles.
That imp is my new friend. I know that our new infant, when he or she arrives, won’t understand crude language right away. Still, I’d hardly choose to blare N.W.A. while I clean the house anymore. Welcome to dadrock, says the imp. It’s where “parent” finally inserts itself in the “parental advisories” on all the music you’ve bought up to this point. We’ve been expecting you the imp says, um, impishly.
Thanks, buddy, I reply. Now, how about a little help when it comes to all those diapers changes?
