They tell stories, they are not nihilists . Sometimes I am amazed by my daughters who discovered country in High school . More amazed ,they dumped hip hop and never looked back.

Monk: “All kinds”
Journalist: “What do you mean, ‘all kinds'”
Monk: “I meant *all kinds*”
Journalist: “B-but surely you don’t listen to country music!”
Monk: “I guess you don’t listen too well either”

As a musician myself I have found almost invariably that really good musicians do in fact appreciate all kinds of music and don’t make false category distinctions.

Here is one of my favorites from Art Pepper:

http://tinyurl.com/pzfwnhz

And another from Harvey Mandel:

http://tinyurl.com/ppqhy5f

My instructions are that both of the above, along with Van Morrison’s Into the Mystic be played at my funeral. I want no words spoken in eulogy, just these 3 pieces of music that in my mind stand the test of time and reverberate inside my core.

When I was a preschooler, I had use of a portable record player. One song I remember playing over was Kawlija – the Wooden Indian. I didn’t choose the record- one of my parents must have chosen it- or a grandparent. My parents were big classical music fans. I also recall a record which set Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty to lyrics, which I must have played about as often as Kawlija.

Decades later, when I found out about Hank Williams, I suddenly realized that I had listened to Hank William’s song Kawlija when I was a preschooler.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_c1A8tmHuI Kaw-lija