my daughter's music

When I was a little girl, a 'musically inclined' child was someone who had a piano and a guitar in the house, took music lessons, belonged to the school drum-and-lyre band, and was asked to actually sing in school programs, instead of standing at the back and just mouthing the words to the song.

My grandmother was very determined that me and my siblings would grow up to be cultured (sounds like bacteria to me), socially well-rounded persons, so aside from the summer painting classes, we had tutors for classic ballroom dancing, we recited (and wrote) poems, and we had piano lessons from the pianist in the church choir.

Let's jump to 2011, to my musically-inclined ten-year-old. She has 4GB of MP3s in her desktop computer, another 4GB of MP3s in her mother's laptop (as a back-up), and a little pink MP4 player with earphones featuring the Angry Birds. She downloads music videos on YouTube, watches the Myx countdowns at 6am on weekdays while eating breakfast, and could sing those funky Korean pop music even if she does not understand the words.

We have a videoke in the house. We sing together on weekends, and she has the nerve to laugh at me when I’m off-key. We have about six dozen DVDs of concerts and music videos. We don’t have a single musical instrument in the house.

And occasionally, she would hand me a piece of paper before I leave for work in the morning. It would contain a list of songs that she wants, with a careful little note to include the lyrics.
1. Bituing Walang Ningning
2. Greatest Love of All
3. Grenade
4. Closer You and I
5. Funkhouse
6. Danger
7. Fire
8. Lazy Song

By now I would be familiar with my daughter’s current taste in music that I know Grenade and Lazy Song are by Bruno Mars, but Bituing Walang Ningning and Greatest Love of All were a surprise. I didn’t realize she’d go for Whitney Houston, but then I didn’t know she knew Bonnie Tyler as well until she sang If I Sing You A Love Song on videoke. I agonized over Danger and Fire, until I found out they were K-pop. I pestered my other music-loving friends until they coughed out the MP3s they had. The others I downloaded at night.

I’d hand her the complete list, along with a flash drive and a print-outs of the lyrics. She would transfer the songs to the MP4 player, and sing along. She would mouth off those Korean words that sound like tongue-twisters, and I have a happy ten-year-old for about a week… until she hands me the new list. Sometimes there would be five songs; sometimes fifteen.

I do it because I want to know the kind of songs she likes. I do it because it’s fun when we sing together, when most of my friends don’t know Next To You by Chris Brown. I can smile with officemates who, like me, have little girls, and who, like me, have managed to memorize Justin Bieber factoids. I like knowing that there are two versions of Inside Your Heaven, and Carrie Underwood’s take is better. I like listening to Ordinary People by John Legend, both when Markki Stroem sang it in Pilipinas Got Talent two seasons ago, and when my daughter sings it in the morning. Singing my daughter’s songs, learning her kind of music, gives us a connection.

But sometimes the years between us show.

There was one time that her list contained Take A Bow. I was so pleased. I came home armed with the MP3 and the lyrics, and I started to tell her about how I liked the song too. I told her about the song This Used To Be My Playground, and a movie called ‘A League of Their Own.’ I told her I think it was good that she could appreciate songs from another era.

She listened to my ravings and nodded along, then she played the song. Her face fell.

She meant Take A Bow by Rihanna. Not Madonna.