TUnESDAY: Who Rules the World?

Slowly, painfully slowly, the reins on the control over music in Jackson (my car) are being loosened. Since our trip Stateside, I've gradually been able to introduce music that isn't being sung by a personified pony, a doe-eyed princess or a talking French candelabra.

And, while it's liberating to some degree, it's also a little daunting as I've realised that these - and the years coming - are going to define those moments in my daughters' futures when they say 'We were raised on ________ in our house' - and that could be anything A-Ha to ZZ Top. And THAT could open them up to be either ridiculed or revered among their peer groups forever more. Or at least until they tell me to turn that junk off and lose themselves in a sea of tuneless, meaningless, manufactured modern shite. God, I'm old.

Anyway - what SHOULD I be pre-emptively brainwashing my kids with? I had a small but important moment of pride not so long ago when, just before the drum line kicked in and asked , 'Are you ready to rock?' But I'm not sure that my rock one compilation CD consisting of Kid Rock, Kansas, Foo Fighters and Van Halen will be enough to hold back the inevitable onslaught of talent show winners-cum-pop-icons.

That's not to say I don't LOVE a good pop song. I've been known to bob along to [insert generic short-lived teeny-bopper build-a-band here] from time to time. And, hey - let's be honest, I was never cool enough in high school to appreciate the Doors, the Stones or whatever other classic artist I was meant to love at the time, much to the dismay of most of my friends. It got worse in college, when I was left to my own devices. McFly? Loved em. Busted? Right on. McBusted? Holy Hell... yes, please! But whatever my own glaring shortcomings musical taste, I'm now responsible for setting up three lives with some modicum of musical credibility, and I can't afford to let them down by only playing Five Colors in Her Hair.

Luckily, the oldest seems to have taken a shine to Pink. It doesn't matter that she picked out that particular artist from Lady Marmalade - the fact is that she seems to like Pink. And I think that's not a bad choice. A strong and talented woman with creative flare, playing with the boundaries between rock, pop and ballad. I don't mind that at all. And yes, of course, somewhere along the line, they'll all need to hear other strong females who represent different takes on musical genius. The time will come for the Diana Rosses, the Dusty Springfields, the Stevie Nickses and the Janis Joplins. But she will also get to enjoy Sia, Christina Aguilera, Madonna, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga along the way. And, for now, I'm going to concentrate on filling her head with these more accessible Women of Song, in the hopes that it will pave the way for a deeper appreciation for women in music and a greater resistance to the soulless cookie-cutter drivel that weakens us all.

Now, I can hear all of my seriously musically-minded friends screaming that some (if not all) of the artists I names are nothing more than peddlers of the trivial nonsense that I claim to be fighting against. And to be fair, you're probably right. I've already said that I don't have very sophisticated taste in music - what did you expect? All I can say is that they will get a wide selection of all music has to offer. AC/DC and Little Mix? Sure, why the hell not? They'll get it all.

Except jazz. Even I have my limits.