Thoughts on the True Nature of Dad Rock

This morning, while driving the children to school, we were listening to a selection of songs by Bruce Springsteen. My old university chum Nick Morris's sons dismiss Springsteen as 'Dad Rock'. Moni, Eddie and I debated what is and what isn't 'Dad Rock'.

A principle element in defining this genre is the complete and utter disdain in which Hip Young People Today hold it. So Iggy Pop, defiant at 60, is still held in regard, I Wanna be your Dog is not Dad. He's not mellow, never was. The Rolling Stones, similarly, seem to defy the stereotype of age, despite their gnarled appearance. Led Zep have pulled off the same trick.

A few weeks ago, Moni put forth the proposition that Pink Floyd is the arch-Dad Rock band. What dad doesn't enjoy listening to 'Dark Side of the Moon' or 'Wish You Were Here'? (not I for one - Pink Floyd have been going down hill since Syd Barrett left). Moni cleverly observed parallels between Waters and Gilmore and Lennon and McCartney (the pretentious hypocrite and the banal tunester). We indeed 'don't need no education'. And yes, Floyd - file under 'Dad'.

Springsteen? Yes and no. His blue-collar rockers ('Born to Run' - which David Brent bursts into after winning the pub quiz -'Sherry Darling' or 'Cadillac Ranch'), his more reflective ballads ('The River', 'Badlands', 'Independence Day') are becoming pipe-and-slippers material. But 'Nebraska', sparse, pessisimistic glimpses into the dark and lonely side of the human soul, is Bruce's Contribution to the Ages and shall never be tarnished with the stain of Daddism.

And so we turn to Dire Straits, the very quintessence of the genre. In 1986 I was stuck on a 24 hour ferry trip from Plymouth to Santander, without a cabin. Every now and then the public address system in the cafeteria (where I was trying to sleep) burst into Dire Straits' 'Walk of Life'. Dads started to strut funkily to this catchy tune; I felt depression sinking in. I nominate this particular piece as the all-time number one Dad Rock number. Phil Collins' 'Another Day in Paradise' comes close (and reeks of hypocrisy). And U2 too, adds Moni.

I count myself fortunate in having children that do not automatically dismiss everything I enjoy listening to as uncool; indeed they themselves have little regard for music that passes today for 'popular'. From Abba to the Sex Pistols, from TSOP to Kraftwerk, from Bowie to heavy rock, much of best-selling pop music of my era - centred around the 1970s - has stood the test of time, the only test that can sort out intrinsically good popular music from bad. Music which will be enjoyed and considered 'cool' by several generations. Precious little has happened in subsequent decades to match the creative outpourings of pop/rock/soul musicians in the '70s.

Currently topping my mp3 playlist: James Brown's full (14 mins 40 secs) version of 'Talkin' Loud and Sayin' Nothing'

"Shape up your bag/Don't worry about mine
My thang's together/An' doing fine"