How My Kids Taught Me to Stop Being a Music Snob 2026

I used to think I had impeccable taste in music, but my kids taught me to stop being a snob. It started with an out-of-body experience in a St Kilda summer, windows down, belting out Eric Carmen's 'Make Me Lose Control' with my family. I caught a glimpse of my younger, cooler self looking on in horror. How had this happened? The answer is simple: raising children engaged in cultural things is the fastest way to confront your own prejudices.

As a former rock journalist for Cream magazine and a veteran of record store counters, I was a card-carrying music snob. I saw High Fidelity as a memoir, not a comedy. I judged people for their mainstream tastes. But kids don't care about cool. They like what they like, and they like fun. That simple truth began to chip away at my snobbery.

The Birth of a Music Snob

My introduction to journalism was as a "rock journalist" in the early noughties—a business card that thrilled me. I spent my youth behind record store counters, sneering at anyone who bought the wrong album. Like the characters in High Fidelity, I believed taste was a moral virtue. I was wrong.

Snobbery is often a shield for insecurity. We use taste to signal belonging, to draw lines between "us" and "them." But when your kids start dancing to the very songs you once mocked, those lines blur. You realize that joy doesn't care about cred.

Kids Don't Know Cool or Cringe

No child is born with an innate sense of cool or cringe. They like what they like, and they tend to like fun things. When our kids moved on from Play School records, we entered a new world. They gravitated toward catchy pop, silly songs, and whatever made them move. And I had to listen.

Taking their lead led me to strange territories: ballet, medieval festivals, the Gruffalo stage show. But music remained the most revealing journey. As we entered the hinterland of adolescence, their tastes evolved, and so did mine. I learned to separate the music from the judgment.

Lessons in Letting Go

Letting go of snobbery doesn't mean abandoning discernment. It means recognizing that different music serves different purposes. A pop anthem can be a bonding tool, a lullaby can be a comfort, and a silly song can be a shared joke. None of that is lesser.

• Kids like what they like—and that's okay.
• Fun is a valid criterion for enjoying music.
• Judgment creates distance; curiosity builds connection.
• Your taste isn't superior—it's just yours.
• Shared music moments are more valuable than cool points.

The turning point came when I realized I was enjoying the songs I once ridiculed. Eric Carmen wasn't a guilty pleasure; it was a family anthem. That shift in perspective changed how I listen to everything.

From Snob to Student

Becoming a student of my kids' music meant asking questions instead of judging. Why do they love this song? What does it make them feel? That curiosity opened doors to genres I'd dismissed. I started to hear the craft in pop production, the humor in novelty songs, the energy in dance tracks.

I'm not saying all music is equally good. But the hierarchy of taste is often arbitrary. What matters is the experience. Does it bring joy? Does it connect you to others? Those are better questions than "Is it cool?"

The Freedom of Not Being Cool

There's a freedom in admitting you're not cool. Once I stopped worrying about my musical image, I could enjoy whatever I wanted. I could sing along to the radio without irony. I could let my kids DJ without correcting them. That freedom is contagious.

Now, when we drive with the windows down, I don't cringe. I sing. And I've noticed that my kids are more open to my music, too—not because I force it, but because I've stopped judging theirs. Mutual respect starts with letting go of snobbery.

Understanding how our perceptions shape reality is a theme that extends beyond music. Just as we often misjudge musical taste, we also misjudge social phenomena like crime rates. The crime perception vs reality divide shows how media and fear can distort what we think we know. Recognizing those biases is the first step to seeing clearly—whether in music or in society. The background to this story is set out in Music Festivals with Kids: Why Families Belong at Live Events. A related thread runs through Tumblr Thread Perfectly Explains Why Kids Should Be Taught To Respect Pets. Earlier coverage in 18 Photos of Animals That Simply Can’t Stop Being Affectionate shows how the argument developed.

What Parents Can Learn

For parents still clinging to their cool card, I offer this: your kids are your best teachers. They don't care about your record collection or your Pitchfork subscriptions. They care about connection. Let them lead sometimes. You might end up belting out a pop song with the windows down, and you might even like it. A closer look at the same subject appears in ‘You Need To Be Better At Timekeeping’, Boss Calls Out Employee For Being Three Minutes Late Once, They Stop Working Late. Anyone following the wider picture can start with Orangutan Playdates: A Parenting Tip for Summer Childcare. The same theme surfaces in Obnoxious Partner Behavior at Kids' Football Matches, which takes a different angle.

The journey from snob to open-minded listener isn't about lowering standards. It's about expanding them. Music is a big tent, and there's room for Eric Carmen alongside the obscure B-sides. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can enjoy the ride. Context on how this played out before sits in A Master Class On Self Care By Parents Who Are Done Parenting.

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