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Beautiful Noise: Why Dad Music Isn’t Bad Music

Anna Byrne listens with a new pair of sympathetic ears.

Posted 21st February 2012, 5:29pm in Blogs by Anna Byrne
Anna Byrne

Anna Byrne

Beautiful Noise: Why Dad Music Isn’t Bad Music It’s 1997. I am mercilessly dragged at the tender and impressionable age of ten to the NEC to see a slightly past-it Neil Diamond croon and wink his way into the heart of every middle-aged woman in the vicinity, and probably onto the fantasy death bus of every accompanying man. I choose to fall asleep. Why? Too young to care about love songs, too tired to be interested by a crinkly-faced old dude singing words I’d never heard in an accent I couldn’t understand, and probably disappointed by the lack of Irish boy bands.

Or perhaps, in the simplicity of my youth, I had gauged the worldwide Diamond vibe. Perhaps I got the feeling that he just wasn’t so hip and groovy anymore, that he was kind of losing his appeal. Well, this feeling of disdain continued into my teens, egged on by my mother’s continued support of him, his music and his looks (back in the day, you understand – he resembles a spray-tanned paper bag now). The compulsion, which lives within every teenager, to appear entirely opposed to their parents, particularly in terms of their musical taste, forbade me from even entertaining the idea that their favourite artists might have a shred of credibility about them.

Recently, I decided I’d play a few choice songs to my mother by singer-songwriters who I humbly believe to be some of the best out there today. It was also an opportunity to prove that my tastes had changed from those heady borderline-pubescent days of pointlessly enormous trousers, fluorescent pink mesh tops and Korn hoodies (probably the most fun I’ve ever had, despite trying desperately to appear miserable and misunderstood at all times). She nodded along politely to most, even verged on actually liking some of them, but they were largely met with the same response: “they’re just not as good as they used to be.” She then instructed me to YouTube (oh yes) a few of her old faves: Diana Ross & The Supremes, The Mamas & The Papas, Don McLean, The Carpenters, The Beach Boys and… Neil Diamond. Groan. Groan groan groan. “Really, mum?” Sad face. “Oh OK.” So I tried to listen with a new pair of sympathetic ears.

My mum has always championed music which is highly musical – um? – and I am starting to understand what this means. She has no need or desire to keep up with the latest bands, solo artists, DJs or producers. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t need to impress anybody with a long list of obscure undiscovered acts which perfectly showcase her ball-achingly cool taste and talent for discovering what will surely be the NEXT BIG THING in three years time. She doesn’t know what’s trending. She likes things which are tuneful, well-structured and sung with heart. She likes Neil Diamond.

Here’s why we all should: the man has a truly excellent name, you’ve got to hand it to him, especially when you consider his middle name is Leslie. He wrote hit songs for years before he became famous as an artist in his own right. His songs were sung by The Monkees - 'I’m A Believer', anyone? - Cliff Richard, Deep Purple and Elvis Presley. He even opened for The Who. 'I Am… I Said' was a Top Five over here as well as across the pond, and his live album 'Hot August Night' spent 29 weeks at #1 in Australia. His role in The Jazz Singer opposite Laurence Olivier was nominated for both a Worst Actor Razzie Award and a Golden Globe. If that’s not totally brilliant, I don’t know what is. Mainly, though, he just has a knack for writing great songs. They’re simple, engaging, charged with emotion and full of head-bopping opportunities. Sure, things went a bit generic and boring in the middle of his career, but those first releases are still some of the best-loved and most successful pop songs of the twentieth century. His voice is rich and mesmerizing, oozing confidence and (at least in the 70s) sex appeal. He’s been an incredibly prolific artist and has refused to stop writing and touring; last year, aged 70, he played a sell-out show at The Roundhouse in Camden. He’s pretty damn cool actually.

My mum has spent years sheepishly murmuring that she likes Neil Diamond to judgemental strangers at dinner parties. Well, mother, sheepishly murmur no longer. Let’s embrace the Diamond. He’s a real gem (ouch).

If you would like further proof that dad music isn’t bad music, please watch these:
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