My first memory is of music. I'm two-and-a-half, standing on a stool in my grandmother's kitchen; she has let me help her wash the dishes, which is quite the grown-up honour. I am spinning records in the sink – essentially circling the water with a cleaning brush – because the music on the radio has moved me so much. "Trou-per-per! Trou-per-per!" the song goes, brightly. I am shining like the sun, feeling like a number one.
On that dull autumn afternoon, in a small Swansea scullery, began a little girl's 35-year (to date) love affair with ABBA, and a connection with Super Trouper[1] that would grow through her life (Teens: wow, it's about touring! Twenties: it's about the essential melancholy of fame! Thirties: God, how did they all cope doing songs like this while they were divorcing?).
Yes, that was me, but what do today's kids think of pop? Are they more jaded and cynical because they have unlimited access to music? Or do their hearts still burst at the sound of a kick-drum, a synthesiser, a song?
I've just written a book for young kids called Pop![2], about the capacities this music can have, and the things it can do. I did it because I had a baby a few years ago, and felt my relationship to music go through a seismic shift. I wasn't having much fun: I was often sleep-deprived, and covered with Calpol or dribble, so I'd listen constantly to nostalgia radio stations, seeking out old favourite songs, and singing their lyrics directly, soppily, to my son. An old primary school disco favourite took on a new, rosy glow (thanks Yazz: "The only way is up, baby, for you and me now"[3]). A song I'd first loved on the soundtrack of Dirty Dancing now meant something quite different (bless the Ronettes' Be My Baby[4]). I wanted to play these songs to my son (now 21 months) because they gave me comfort, of course, but I also wanted to enjoy his primal reactions to them.
They took a while, but they came. His first proper, joyful wriggle? To something that I loved in my teens: Future Sound of London's Papua New Guinea[8] (he's clearly a raver). One of his first standing-up dances? To the Archies' bubblegum pop hit Sugar, Sugar[9] (he loves something with a handc lap). His first vocal response? To the Beatles' She Loves You[10]. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mammy!", he said, just the other week. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!" It may sound pretentious, but one of the ideas behind my book was to give pop the credit it deserves as an art form that moves us. As I write in the book, people can use pop "to express their feelings about all the things happening in their lives".
This also went for the way I was feeling. My listening habits in my son's early months transported me to the easier days of my childhood, but also to pop stars who opened my mind, widened my eyes, pumped my heart – larger-than-life creatures such as Adam Ant, Boy George, and, yes, David Bowie, who took me by the hand, and showed me a wider, bolder world. More than anything, I wanted to let children know that pop, at its best, is about self-expression, and that it "lets you be whomever you want to be".
So what would children make of the crop of 2016's most-likely-tos, the artists filling all those one-to-watch lists? On a Saturday morning at Observer HQ, I get six- and seven-year-olds Bert, Juno, Xavier, Pearl and Jack to talk to me about pop and rate tracks by five rising stars (results on the panel over the page). Be warned: they're a discerning bunch of critics. OK, they're not great at spotting instruments or accents, and things can get a little chaotic (the idea that Jack Garratt was a carrot was a difficult concept to shake from them), but for stinging responses and irreverent comment, they're your gang. Their tastes are often split on gender lines (dispiritingly common at this age, according to their parents), something also reflected in their favourite songs. The boys all love Everything Is Awesome[11] from The Lego Movie ("BECAUSE IT'S AWE-SUMMMMM!", they explain, jumping off their chairs, screaming). The girls adore Katy Perry's Roar[12] (Juno: "because it's bouncy" ) and the Frozen soundtrack's Let It Go[13] (Pearl: "my mum said to me the other day, 'Can we turn this off now?'").
The girls take the reviewing task seriously, and whisper their ideas to each other. The boys try to impress each other, and affect suspicion of "quiet, pretty music" (although I spot their heads nodding when I'm not looking). Everyone also seems to like music their parents like, which wasn't always the way for my generation (I liked my mum's Beatles tapes, but thought David Essex was awful). This panel's parents had a much broader musical education, though, mainly because of their age. They grew up with acid house and Britpop, hip-hop and heavy metal, and most likely spent their teenage years reading music magazines that taught them, lengthily, about the past.
Favourites of the panel today include Björk, the Bangles and Arctic Monkeys. Juno even comes along listening to a Spotify playlist, featuring Steve Miller Band's The Joker[14] and Cliff Richard's Devil Woman[15]. But when the children are asked why they like things, they're not always sure. I was like this at t heir age: I remember falling in love with Wham!'s Freedom[16] when I was six, without understanding it, only knowing that the bit that went "you know that I'll forgive you/just this once, twice, forever" put butterflies in my tummy. Years later, I know how that song references Motown, how descending basslines push emotional buttons, and how hugely yearning those lyrics are. But most importantly: those butterflies are still there.
While I fondly remember enjoying 60s cassettes in the car with my mum, the sharing of pop between the generations these days is a much bigger deal. My bum-wiggling toddler and I have attended countless classes led by long-suffering musicians with a keen eye on extra income (although watching a room full of babies shake rattles to La Bamba and We Will Rock You is quite fun for parents, admittedly). I've also DJed several times for Big Fish Little Fish[17], the national music and events crew who put on unpretentious "family raves" on Sunday afternoons (their brilliant slogan: "2-4 hour party people"). It is run by ex-senior civil servant, Hann ah Saunders, who gave up a 20-year career to set it up, a career change which reminds us that we've entered a new age for parenting: one in which mums and dads are allowed to have as much fun as their offspring.
Pop is also about dancing, of course, and vivid, physical reactions. This is what I will remember most warmly from our perky pop panel: the arms flailing, the kids windmilling so unguardedly, so joyfully. But I'll also remember their little reactions about melancholy, and the elaborate, silly stories they concocted, as small songs set off their imaginations in a million directions. By the end of our hour, Pearl and Juno had even decided to form a band and held their first meeting behind an executive chair ("Go away, Dad!", Juno's father was told when he tried to take her home). Who knows? In 35 years' time, they may still have a special memory to relate, and a shared love of certain songs that have changed and grown with them. Either way, they're super troupers, every one.
Pop! by Jude Rogers is out now (Fisherton Press £6.99)[18]
Jack Garratt – Worry
(Island Records)
Post Ed-Sheeran, eElectronica-drizzled, beardy singer-songwriter of the moment. BBC Sound Of 2016 winner
[Uproarious laughter from all the children as soon as song starts]
Jack: Jack Garratt? He's a carrot!
Xavier: And he sounds like a carrot! Carrots are boring.
Pearl: [sensibly]: He sounds like he's sleeping.
Juno: [thoughtfully]: It doesn't sound happy or sad. It sounds in the middle between happy and sad. And his voice is a bit funny. He's all up and down. I think he's singing to the audience because he's worried and he wants help.
Bert: It's too peaceful.
Jack: He sounds weird. Like a drunk carrot.
Pearl: It sounds a bit like rap at the end. I like rap. Rap is really fast.
Xavier: He's crazy like a carrot.
Bert: [talking about the title] It's not working for me because I worry about lots of things.
Pearl: I'd like some more rap.
Juno: [thoughtfully]: He sounds more like broccoli to me.
Bert: 0, Jack: 0, Juno: 3, Pearl: 4, Xavier: 0
TOTAL: 7/25
Rat Boy – Sign On
(Parlophone)
Jamie T-style tearaway indie-punk, with; lyrics about Wetherspoons and the lottery
Jack: Is his first name Rat?
Bert: It sounds like he's driving fast to work, driving in his car.
Xavier: The song goes like this [jumps up, mimes steering wheel manoeuvres of Formula 1 winner].
Bert: I think he sounds like he's going to the beach.
Jack: Or going to the bank.
Juno: Maybe there's a fire at his home 'cos it's really, really fast. It's bouncy.
[They are asked where he sounds like he's from]
Bert: America?
Pearl: South America.
Jack: Norway.
Juno: [sensibly] Scotland.
Pearl: It's got big, big drums and electric guitars. He sounds old, like he's from the 70s. Like ABBA, but different. I like ABBA.
Juno: It's too noisy for me.
Jack: I like it because it sounds violent.
Xavier: [hears lyric] Maybe he's stealing from the bank?
Jack: Maybe he's driving fast because he was late to steal from the bank, because he was sleeping in the pub, because he was so drunk.
Bert: 4, Jack: 4, Juno: 2, Pearl: 5, Xavier: 4
TOTAL: 19/25
Billie Marten – As Long As
(Sony/Chess Club)
Sensitively intelligent acoustic ballad by 16-year-old singer-songwriter
Juno: It reminds me of It's Oh So Quiet[19]. I like that song. I like the bit where she shouts "Zing-boom".
Xavier: [grumpy] It's a zero.
Bert: Minus zero.
Jack: Zero, zero, zero. It's too peaceful. It sounds like a rabbit. A really peaceful rabbit.
Juno: I think it sounded like a flower.
Jack: A rabbit at night, jumping around quietly, trying to find its food without the foxes eating it.
Xavier: It sounds like someone I met with a very weird voice. Or a violin singing.
Pearl: Or a butterfly. It reminds me of Silent Night, like a song to help you go to sleep. It has a nice guitar, like a lullaby. I think she sounds pretty.
Juno: I think she's an old lady.
[They are told her age]
Xavier: She's a kid! A baby goat. She sounds a bit like a goat [quietly makes goat noise].
Bert: 0, Jack: 0, Juno: 5, Pearl: 5, Xavier: 0
TOTAL: 10/25
Blossoms – At Most a Kiss
(Virgin EMI)
Synthy guitar-rock from five young overcoat-endorsing northerners
[The kids are told the title]
All the boys: URRGGGGGGH!!!
Jack: I hate kissing!
Bert: YUCK! [sticks fingers in his ears. Juno and Pearl are dancing around smiling]
Pearl: This would be good at a roller disco. It's fast and loud. It needs some more rap.
Juno: It's a bit crazy.
Xavier: [listens grudgingly] It's an electric piano, I think. [copies sci-fi riff] Dun-dun-dun-dun-DUN!
Jack: I'd like to listen to this if there was a future world war.
Juno: It's jazz. It's very noisy and a bit bouncy.
Pearl: I reckon the person who makes it is a bit ugly.
Bert: And wears grey glasses.
Juno: I think he sounds a bit stinky.
Xavier: I think he's got a funny moustache.
Bert: 1, Jack: 3, Juno: 5, Pearl: 5, Xavier: 2
TOTAL: 16/25
Lizzo – BGSW
(BGSW Records)
Riot grrrl-influenced, Prince-endorsed rapper, with a bark as loud as her bite
[Song begins slow and soulful, then explodes into a fast, starkly accompanied rap]
Bert: The start is weird. I felt there was nothing inside me.
Juno: I like the slow bit, middle bit, and the fast!
Jack: I hated the start when it was quiet. The loud bit, I liked.
Bert: It's like a snail that goes really slow, then really fast and crashes into a car.
Jack: Maybe it's a snail that's had fast potion poured on it.
Pearl: I like that it stopped for a second, then started again.
Jack: She's angry because she's shouty.
Pearl: She thinks she's like a boy, because she's doing lots of shouting. But I like it.
Bert: Maybe she's a girl snail that's so angry that she jumps into the middle of the Earth and explodes.
Pearl: She sounds like she's in a space rocket and she can't talk properly, then she's shouting in space. It's a bit of a joke, because she was only pretending she can't speak, so that's why she shouts. Like this bit! [entire room breaks out in dancing]
Bert: 5, Jack: 5, Juno: 5, Pearl: 5, Xavier: 5
TOTAL: 25 (WINNER!)
References
- ^ Super Trouper (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Pop! (fishertonpress.co.uk)
- ^ "The only way is up, baby, for you and me now" (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Be My Baby (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Facebook (www.facebook.com)
- ^ Twitter (twitter.com)
- ^ Pinterest (www.pinterest.com)
- ^ Papua New Guinea (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Sugar, Sugar (www.youtube.com)
- ^ She Loves You (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Everything Is Awesome (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Roar (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Let It Go (www.youtube.com)
- ^ The Joker (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Devil Woman (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Freedom (www.youtube.com)
- ^ Big Fish Little Fish (www.bigfishlittlefishevents.co.uk)
- ^ Pop! by Jude Rogers is out now (Fisherton Press £6.99) (fishertonpress.co.uk)
- ^ It's Oh So Quiet (www.youtube.com)
