We're pretty big on music in our house. In the same way I never entirely trust someone who doesn't read anything, I always think people who aren't passionate about any sort of music are probably missing a bit of their soul. I feel the same about movies, but that's probably a rant for another day.
So since she was born, Flea's been exposed to all sorts of music. She knows the lyrics to all sorts of random songs by people like BB King, The Smiths and even James Taylor, although her preference is emo rock music like Muse and Panic at the Disco. She loves anything with a loud bass or drumline, and can often be heard saying things like, "Turn it up Mummy, it's Linkin' Park!"
I take the view that I don't mind what music she's listening to, so long as she's enjoying it – providing it's nothing offensive like kids' party CDs or Simply Red. I've promised Flea a scaled-down guitar for her 4th birthday and a friend is going to give her some lessons.
I know it's all sort of doomed and one day Flea will consider all this music to be deeply sad and embarrassing "old person" music, but I like to think I'm giving her a good start. Don't we all?
Anyway, given this intensive musical education, it's hardly surprising that my daughter has already turned her talents to composing. Today, at an intimate gig attended by close family, Flea performed her own composition, "The Monkey Song".
I've recorded the lyrics below for posterity and I think you'll agree, it whoops the ass of anything Dylan ever put out. Ahem:
Once upon a time there was a monkey
Uh yeah, and he was sitting in a tree.
And he saw some bananas
Ooooh, but they were in a different tree
And he couldn't reach them
So he went swinging
Yes, he swing-ed from the tree
To the next tree
And he was swinging
Uh, to the next tree, oooh
He was swinging
A long, long, long, long, long way to the next tree
But it was the wrong tree
And then he saw another monkey
In the tree with the bananas in
And that monkey ate them all.
It's like poetry, innit?