Blog Post: The Underrated Nature of the Car Stereo - and the Person Who Controls It
Throughout much of my adolescence, one of the things I looked forward to most was the Sunday car journey with my dad. The weekly excursion around the foothills of the Dublin mountains or the avenues of the city centre. What made these car journeys so special was the music that underpinned them.
Recently, myself and my dad were driving home from the inner city. It was near midnight, but the heat of late July trickled into the car. The soundtrack for the evening was an amalgam of The Snuts, T. Rex and The Kooks. Driving down the never-ending motorway, I looked over at my dad and how he sang to himself while we had the music on full volume. I thought about how he was the person responsible for encouraging me to love music. It prompted me to think back to the numerous car journeys throughout my adolescence and teenage years, of which all were complimented by music. At a young age, my dad introduced me to music from The Pretenders, David Bowie, The Doors, Roxy Music and my beloved Talking Heads. These artists were the soundtrack to my adolescence. My dad provided me with some of the greatest artists from his generation, with the aid of his car stereo. Exposure to such musicians really solidified my love and dependence on music from such a young age.
In particular, I remember a car journey from Dublin to Belfast alongside my older brother and my dad. The two hour long trip was perfectly complimented with songs from Lou Reed, New Order and The Cure. To end the trip, our dad brought us to a record store where we bought our very first record player. We were allowed pick a vinyl each to put our new record player to use. My brother picked a very cool first vinyl, Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. The first vinyl I chose at fourteen years old was Hatful of Hollow by The Smiths - I had heard cool people listened to The Smiths.
And I don’t think my dad realises how much that memory means to me. I don’t think he realises that I think about that moment a lot and credit it as the solidification of my adoration for all things music. This particular memory means so much to me because I realised that myself and my dad constructed a deep bond over music. I learnt from my dad to enjoy and appreciate music on a whole new level. He invoked a love for music that has spanned the entirety of my adolescence and guided me into my adulthood. And I really don’t think he realises. I don’t think he realises how much I am indebted to him for eliciting a shared love for music.
And so, I look forward to every time we get to go on a car trip together, even if it is just to the dry cleaners. I relish the moment the volume on the stereo is at maximum. There’s nothing I love more than driving aimlessly through the meandering streets of Ireland blaring Jim Morrison, The Rolling Stones or The Clash. And looking across to the seat beside me, seeing my dad singing along - that makes everything in life seem good.