In an effort to bond with my 14-year-old son, I decided to let him play DJ. This was my first mistake. Come on over and let’s discuss My Son’s Music Equals Satan’s Symphony – Hot Mess Memoir
As my 7 year old and I walked down the stairs a few minutes ago he announced, “I like that song If I could turn back time.”
Shockingly, he sang it to the exact melody of Cher’s Turn Back Time, circa 1989.
“But I can’t remember who sings it,” he said disappointingly.
“If I could find a way….then maybe….maybe….you’d staaayyyyy,” I picked up right where he left off, completely off-key.
“I know the singer!” I announced proud that I could solve his riddle. “Baby, where did you hear that song? It was popular when I was growing up. It’s Cher.”
I was confident he had heard it on an “oldies station” (God that makes me sick to say).
“No, it’s not Cher.” He said with the confidence of a Rolling Stones Editor.
“Uhhhh, yeah it is. I’ve heard that song a billion times and that’s her song. It’s called If I Could Turn Back Time.” I was becoming mildly frustrated my son questioned this fact.
“No it’s not mom,” P yelled from the front room. “It’s called Stessed Out.”
By now, I began to have a mild, adult tantrum. I needed to defend Cher and her right to sing If I Could Turn Back Time. This was her song that signified her 3rd comeback to the mainstream in 1989. No one, and I mean no one, was going to take that away from her. If my son’s were referring to a remake by say Ariana Grande or Selena Gomez, I was going to loose my shit. There are some songs that are only right the first time.
“No, no, no. You guys have no idea what your talking about. Here, I’ll bet you a million dollars I’m right.” I grabbed my tablet and pressed YOUTUBE suddenly regretting my decision.
‘I can’t show them that video,’ I thought. How she pulled off one large piece of electrical tape without anything falling out will always be one of life’s greatest mysteries.
By now P was walking into the kitchen playing the song in question on his phone.
“It’s by 21 Pilots.” He said handing me his phone.
“Oh yeah, I’ve heard that song, it’s pretty good. You’ve got the band name just a little wrong though,” I said holding my index and thumb up to a pinching sign. I didn’t want to crush their glory about being right, but I did want to ensure they had factual information.
“It’s not 21 Pilots boys, It’s Stone Temple Pilots. Close. But no cigar.”