A Christmas Music Miracle

We all know that music can be a very age-specific experience.  What was fresh and new and powerful to one generation usually bugs the shit out of the one preceding it.  What is calm and serene and hushed to the youngest generation is ridiculously noisy and painful to the older crowd.  There are the groups and sounds that seem to last forever, and run alongside each new generation allowing them to feel like the horribly downtrodden, ignored, and misunderstood geniuses they all are.

But sometimes, music just reaches people because it rocks.

I've been a fan of the group, that according to their frontman was never meant to be a group, since 'Big Me' was everywhere on MTV (you know...the days way back when MTV played music).  My oldest son, now three, sings and screams and drums along with Dave, Taylor, Nate, and Chris to a half dozen of their songs.  We'll watch their videos on TV or the lovely computer that brings you this strange blog from time to time, and the boy is there with me, dancing, asking where Taylor is, shouting, and loving every second of it.

So, cut to a few days ago.  The video for 'Wheels,' a new track from their final album is available, and I turn it on.  The drums start pounding, the guitars crackle and slide to life, and my youngest son, now seven months old and comfortable on my lap spins to the TV.  His mouth opens, the pacifier falls, he starts bouncing on my lap, and it happens.

He smiles.  He looks at me, then back to those fellas making the beautiful noises and laughs.

The Foo Fighters are legends in our house.