I grew up with parents who lived on classic rock. Aerosmith, ACDC, The Styx, Joan Jett. You name it, they listened to it. So, it should come as no surprise to anyone that that gene was passed on to me.
Whenever my mom and I are in the car driving somewhere, I will turn on my Aerosmith station. For my mom, there are stories behind certain songs, and I love hearing those stories. They take me back to a time when my mom was in her prime; wearing her black leather jacket, sporting the tassels and perm.
Not only does classic rock reveal a lot about my mom, but it reveals to the listener what it was like to be alive during such a time.
To me, classic rock is amazing. The lyrics to songs like “Cryin” by Aerosmith, show such a love/hate relationship between two people; he wanted her, but she ruined him.
Where I work, before the store opens, we set up and prepare to open. During that time, we are allowed to listen to music with or without headphones. I always play my classic rock station without fail. One of my coworkers came up to me once and asked if I always listened to classic rock. When I answered yes, he looked at me in shock as if it were impossible for someone to like the classics.
Then there are songs like “Back in Black” by ACDC that you can just rock out to and no one will care because they understand that it’s ACDC you’re listening to. Or songs like “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses, which has the same intention. My dad goes crazy in the car to songs like these, and it’s hilarious when it gets passed down to your little sister.
Then we have classics like “Sweet Home Alabama” by Lynyrd Skynyrd that you can’t help sing along to because it’s such a classic, or “Don’t Stop Belevin'” by Journey, that everyone knows the words to.
Yes, I do listen to my fair share of top 40 and pop-punk, but classic rock will always be my number one.
