My brother’s “band” is over. They’re actually over quite often, like, 2 to 3 times a week. This is because we have a music area with a bar in part of our basement, and they’re apparently too lazy to take drums to somewhere they won’t bug me, so they have to stay here. Anyway, it’s been getting better. Almost to the point where I will be able to refer to them without ironic quotations.

Currently, they are downstairs listening to Alice Cooper. I assume they are picking a song to cover, as they really only have 3 original songs (written by my brother, Matt) and need something else to play (Matt is not a machine, he needs time to create amazing music– actually, I really do like the songs he has written so far!). One of Matt’s band-mate-friend-type people started mocking the song they were listening to (“Hey Stoopid”) and all I could think was how they were lucky Dad wasn’t home because stuff like that does not go down at our house.

Some of you may not know who Alice Cooper is, but hey, that’s what Wikipedia is for. Please just read up on it, and catch up with the rest of us later. See, I do not need to read some Wikipedia article on Alice Cooper. I was practically raised by Alice Cooper. Which is to say that my father is a massive fan. I’ve been able to sing along to Alice’s songs before I could sing along to much else. I never set out to learn the lyrics, they’re just a part of me, like I imagine religious passages are a part of children who are raised in an environment where they go to church and stuff. My church was the church of theatrical shock rock. (The further we get into this blog, and the more you learn about me, the less surprising the fact that I am a huge weirdo becomes, I know.)

The musical area of our basement (which in addition to drums, contains various other percussion instruments, bongo drums, a piano, and a tree of guitars) is decorated as a sort of shrine to the great eyelinered one. While the wall itself is painted to a scale model of Pink Floyd’s The Wall (ummm… not sure of the connection between the two), hanging on the wall is every vinyl record that Alice has put out. The shelves hold other Alice memorabilia.

It is a room that Alice Cooper himself has described as “cool” and “surreal.” (He was given a photo a year or two ago, which he signed for us.) Yup, we managed to shock the shocker himself with our basement fandom.

So, yeah, it’s easy to see why I am such an oddball, being exposed to that my whole life. Well, half of my life, I guess. My mother was sure to fill the other half with tonnes of Nirvana. Kurt Cobain and I have been well acquainted since I was 3 as well. Life and times of the daughter of a pair of music junkies, I guess.

What did your parents listen to in your influential years, and did it affect you in any way?