Who’s on aux?
It’s one of the most important questions of our time.
Other questions may have more global weight: How do we stop temperature rise? Who will ensure that democracy as we know it survives the next four years? Can AI make me a really nice sandwich?
Those are the big questions. But in terms of day-to-day life, how we interact with those around us, “who’s on aux” is a question that provides the soundtrack for everything we do. Quite literally, in fact.
For those who don’t hang out with the kids these days, “who’s on aux” means who is choosing the music for this party/meal/office/funeral/etc. The person in charge of the music plays a huge part in deciding the vibe of the room, holding unique power over everyone within earshot. It’s a massively important position and responsibility.
And, I’ll add, it can be an extremely fraught position. You’re putting yourself out there. Ego is at stake. What if you crank up your absolute favourite and someone casually strolls by and says, “this music sucks?” Devastating.
Musical education starts early
I’ve found this question of confidence to be more serious than ever now that I am a parent of two teen/tween boys. No one comes close to those two in their ability to tell me I suck.
It’s been an interesting musical journey to get to this point. Early on in parenthood you can foist your musical preferences on your little children as much as you want.
Some parents start before birth, blasting their tunes at their unborn children. This is smart – there’s nothing that a little fetus can do about it. Oh, you’re not a fan of Kraftwerk? You’re literally trapped in a sac, you little squirt. What are you going to do, kick your mom? She’ll just think you’re dancing to the music and crank that synth-pop even louder. Ja ja ja!
When baby finally reaches the outer world, you still have a few years of blasting your favourite tunes with no discernible complaints. Sure babies may cry, but you won’t ever know for sure if it’s the colic or the Conway Twitty.
Soon enough, though, they start talking. And that means they can start complaining.
There might be a sweet spot when they are old enough to talk but still young enough to think that everything their parents do is cool. This is a great stage of life.
The song “Take On Me” by A-ha still whisks me right back to my childhood home with my parents absolutely rocking out to that Euro trash/treasure.
I have fond memories of my little guys singing “Walk of Life” by Dire Straits, blaring the trumpet part from Sloan’s “Everything You’ve Done Wrong,” or hilariously singing and dancing to the Great Big Sea classic “Donkey Riding” when they were cute little tots. Pro tip for parents: you can’t go wrong with donkey content.
Dad music 'sucks'
But soon enough, they start to discover there is a musical world beyond mom and dad’s Spotify list. It’s only a matter of time before the hammer falls: “Dad, your music sucks.”
The first time my kid told me he thought The Tragically Hip were “the worst band in the world,” I cried my eyes out, not just because of what he said, but also because I threw him off a bridge.
Just kidding! Just kidding. Don’t call the cops on me – he’s fine, enjoying life in military boarding school. Just kidding again!
But yeah, it stung, and there was more to come. The New Pornographers, The Band, The National, The Weakerthans…. They all stink, I’ve been told many times.
The toughest fight was the rap battle. I’m not anti-rap. In fact, we have all bonded over the classics – Wu-Tang Clan, Outkast, Dr. Dre. Those are universally beloved.
But then my kids started blasting the new stuff: the “got chop of the blop blop blop” of U.K. rap. The “kla kla kla” of the New York drill. Now I was the one telling them to turn it down, transforming from a cool bro into an old grump.
And just like that, the battle lines were drawn. There I was, teasing my little U.K. rappers. “Oy mate, wat’s this rubbish?” And in return, they were literally shouting until my music went off. Or, even worse, throwing their headphones on and shutting me out completely. The aux wars raged on, for years.
Then the wildest thing happened.
“You know dad,” one kid said to me a few weeks ago, “those bands you played when we were young – they low-key hit.” (That’s a good thing.)
Chilli Peppers, Beastie Boys, Weezer, Green Day, Nirvana – you’ve rocked me to a very special place: cool dad land.
And then a few weeks later my other kid watched The Blues Brothers with me and adored every minute of it – just as I did when I was a kid – and now we’re rocking out to Jake and Elwood doing the theme from Rawhide on the way to soccer practice.
You can’t imagine how good it feels. In fact, if you want to make someone feel powerful, loved, respected, there’s one simple way: “nice job on the aux.”
Andy Prest is the editor of the North Shore News. His humour/lifestyle column runs biweekly.
