Resonating Influences

It's road trip time—this time down memory lane. Join me on a musical journey deeply intertwined with the men who have shaped it. In this multi-part series, I explore how key male figures in my life have crafted the soundtrack of my existence. From my father's cherished classics to the rock anthems my brothers and boyfriends introduced and even the musical influences of my son, each man has added a unique note to my personal symphony.

This series is a tribute to those influences, a reflection on how these men have tuned my musical ear and heart. As I also prepare to share the story of the women who've shaped my music taste, let's first delve into the male voices and chords that have resonated throughout my life.

Part 1: Childhood and Early Influences

In the first chapter of my journey, I revisit my childhood and early years, where the men in my family set the foundational notes of my musical tastes. From my father's cherished records to my brothers' rock anthems, this part explores how these early male influences introduced me to a world of diverse sounds and rhythms.

My dad had a deep love for music, and his passion for dancing was infectious. I’m smiling as I remember standing on my father’s feet as a little girl, being twirled around the room to the tunes that filled our home. Among these, 'The Girl from Ipanema' stood out for its captivating rhythm. Its smooth, bossa nova beat and mellow, flowing melody were irresistible, making it one of his favorite dance numbers.

The song's languid, seductive rhythm, underscored by gentle samba beats, seemed to cast a spell on him every time it played. With a beaming smile, foot tapping in perfect time, and hands playfully mimicking maracas, he embodied the joy that music brought into our lives. Those moments, with Dad swaying and singing to that catchy tune, are cherished snapshots of joy and music intertwined, forever etched in my memory.

One of his favorite spots to savor music was behind the wheel of his 1970 cherry red Mercedes-Benz 280SL. On any given day, the air around us would be filled with the sounds of Frank Sinatra, Burt Bacharach, or Barry Manilow emanating from his car radio. He would be cruising down the road with the top down, music blaring, his left hand steady on the wheel, his elbow casually resting out the open window, and his right hand tapping out the rhythm on the dashboard.

My dad loved live music, whether it was on Broadway or at Madison Square Garden. Many times, Dad’s best friend would hook him up with tickets to see acts like Tina Turner, Michael Jackson, Fleetwood Mac, and The Eagles, and Dad would take my sister and me to the shows.

Before my father died, he enjoyed watching videos from his comfortable chair of performances by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rod Stewart, and Cher a couple of days before he passed away peacefully in his bed.

I remember rocking out in my bedroom to Sonny & Cher singing 'I Got You, Babe' and watching their variety show as a little girl. I loved Cher’s hair and wanted to grow tall and skinny with long, flowing straight hair. But, my Mediterranean background delivered medium-height, frizzy hair, and an athletic body let's say. What songs do you remember singing as a young kid? Did you have any idols?

But, as a young girl, before boys came on my radar as anything other than friends, my two older brothers took center stage in schooling me through the music of the early 1970s. I listened to the music they played through the wall we shared growing up in a small apartment in New York City.

Some of my earliest memories are of listening to the music seep through the door, permanently blocked by our beds. The instrumental melodies and the high-pitched, ethereal, somewhat haunting voice of Jon Anderson singing 'Starship Trooper.' The Yes Album was released in 1971. I was 7, and Yes was one of my eldest brother’s favorite bands.

Some of my brothers’ albums stood out more than others. I would love to play Snoopy and His Friends, The Royal Guardsmen. No doubt my attraction to the album was the cover art with Snoopy looking oh so cool and the Royal Guardsmen hiding behind his doghouse. But more than that, as I listen to the songs again – I remember loving how they tell a story, and still do. Music doesn’t seem to tell stories anymore like it did once.

The Beatles' music was a constant in our home, thanks to my brothers' appreciation of the band. But as a kid, it was their album artwork that really caught my eye. The bright, imaginative world of 'Yellow Submarine' and the rich, detailed scene on 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' captivated me. These weren't just album covers; they were windows into fascinating stories. I'd spend hours looking at each illustration, absorbed in the colors and details.

The Beatles' albums, along with their animated films, introduced me to a realm where music and visual art intertwined beautifully. This early exposure nurtured a deep appreciation for the creativity behind music packaging, teaching me how an album's cover could be as enthralling as the songs it held.

When my brothers came home with the 45 of Alice Copper’s School’s Out in June 1972 – I was 8 and found my go-to song to belt out for the next few years when summer began. Who didn’t sing that song every year when summer started and school was out? I still love that song and recently listened to Alice Cooper's Who I Really Am: Diary of a Vampire: Words + Music | Vol. 22. It’s a fun listen for any rock and roll fan.

Growing up, bands like Yes, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Genesis, The Moody Blue, ELP, ELO, Blue Oyster Cult, Pink Floyd, Alice Cooper, and Led Zeppelin were the building blocks of my musical universe, each adding their distinct color and texture to the mosaic of my early musical memories.

Even now, the music from those days hasn't lost its allure for me. I often find myself revisiting and diving deeper into the catalogs of those bands, discovering nuances I might have missed before. In my college days, the Rolling Stones were a mainstay for me, with 'Let It Bleed' being a particularly beloved album. 'Monkey Man' was a standout track with its twangy guitar riffs and striking piano sections – it just resonated with me. And then there's 'You Can't Always Get What You Want.'

That song isn't just music to my ears; it's a masterpiece that tells a story. The way it builds up, the choir's haunting introduction, the richness of the melody – it's a timeless favorite. Each listen feels like I'm uncovering another layer of its narrative, another angle to its sound.

It's one of those tracks that I can play on repeat and still find something new to appreciate each time. To this day, I catch myself playing certain songs on repeat, immersing myself in their rhythm and lyrics. It's like revisiting old friends, each song holding a familiar yet ever-evolving story.

And that wraps up the first leg of my musical road trip, or should I say, school’s out for now? This is just the beginning, though. My dad's love for everything from Sinatra to Manilow and my brothers' rock anthems have laid the bedrock of my diverse musical tastes.

These early songs and stories were just the prelude. They were my first steps into a world where music was more than just background noise – it was a way to live, feel, and express. So, stay tuned. We're about to dive into the teenage years, where the volume turns up, and the soundtrack of my life becomes even more eclectic.

How did your early musical influences shape your tastes? Do you still listen to any of the old-time song that your parents’ listened to? Did you have siblings that may have influenced your taste in music? I'd love to hear about it the comments.

In Part 2, I’ll review my rollercoaster teen years. Think first concerts, high school crushes, and all the music that came with them. We're talking about the times when music wasn't just what I listened to – it was who I was. So, stick around; the story's just getting good!