There’s this article from The Onion that my husband and I keep chuckling over. The joke headline is “Cool Dad Raising Daughter on Media That Will Put Her Entirely Out of Touch with Her Generation,” and it’s followed by a photo of a middle-aged man presenting a girl with a vinyl copy of the Talking Heads Remain in Light as she regards the album in her hands with utter skepticism. We may or may not have played that very album for our kids before heading to New Haven to watch former Talking Heads members—now septuagenarians—perform it live. That joke article is about us.

Anyone who’s interrupted a Disney playlist to subject their progeny to a few excruciating minutes of A Very Important Music Thing can relate. We want to share the things we love with the people we love. We want them to know who we are. It could be music or movies, hobbies, sports teams, longtime vacation spots. For me, it’s reggae and Joni Mitchell’s Blue and Neil Young’s Harvest, all of which I heard as a kid on weekend mornings. It’s hurtling down the interstate in a car full of teenagers scream-singing along to Jimmy Eat World’s “Sweetness” or Jay-Z’s “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” or Underworld’s “Born Slippy.” It’s the first two Decemberists albums, played as my future husband and I aimlessly wandered the backroads near the town we were so very desperate to leave. This music is as much me as the cells in my body. So now I sing “Heart of Gold” and “The Crane Wife” to my kids as bedtime lullabies, and for background noise I play Bob Marley and classic R&B songs that were sampled by rappers.

Until the kids are old enough for evening concerts, I’m passing my limited free time by reading and watching documentaries about music, especially the scenes and artists that have dimmed the stage lights for the last time. Did you know that emo was a product of the suburbs? (Thanks, Andy Greenwald!) Or that Carrie Brownstein, half of the hilarious duo on Portlandia, was part of Olympia’s feminist Riot Grrrl movement in the early 90’s? Here’s some recent media if you’re feeling nostalgic for the sounds of the past.

Night People: How to be a DJ in ’90s NYC by Mark Ronson (2025)

From the publisher: Organized around the venues that defined his experience of the downtown scene, Ronson evokes the specific rush of that decade and those spaces—where fashion folks and rappers on the rise danced alongside club kids and 9-to-5’ers—and invites us into the tribe of creatives and partiers who came alive when the sun went down. A heartfelt coming-of-age tale, Night People is the definitive account of ’90s New York nightlife and the making of a musical mastermind.

Tonight in Jungleland: The Making of Born to Run by Peter Ames Carlin (2025)

From the publisher: From the opening piano notes of “Thunder Road,” to the final outro of “Jungleland”—with American anthems like “Born to Run” and “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out” in between—Bruce Springsteen’s seminal album, Born to Run, established Springsteen as a creative force in rock and roll. With his back against the wall, he wrote what has been hailed as a perfect album, a defining moment, and a roadmap for what would become a legendary career. Peter Ames Carlin, whose bestselling biography, Bruce, gave him rare access to Springsteen’s inner circle, now returns with the full story of the making of this epic album. Released in August, 1975, Born to Run now celebrates its 50th anniversary.

Hip-Hop Is History by Questlove (2024)

From the publisher: Questlove traces the creative and cultural forces that made and shaped hip-hop, highlighting both the forgotten but influential gems and the undeniable chart-topping hits-and weaves it all together with the stories no one else knows. It is at once an intimate, sharply observed story and a sweeping theory of the evolution of the great artistic movement of our time. Questlove approaches it with both the encyclopedic fluency of an obsessive fan and the unique expertise of an innovative participant. Hip-hop is history, and also his history.

Psst: If you prefer to watch a documentary, Questlove’s Hip-Hop Evolution (2016) runs along similar lines. It’s available on Netflix.

Sharing in the Groove: The Untold Story of the ’90s Jam Band Explosion and the Scene that Followed by Mike Ayers (2025) 

From the publisher: Sharing in the Groove is a rich examination of an underdog genre that helped define the 1990s musical landscape―a scene that paved the way for modern-day cultural institutions such as the Bonnaroo Music Festival and kept the Grateful Dead ethos alive. It was also a world with its own values and its own unique interactions with fame, record labels, MTV, drugs, and success.

The Name of This band is R.E.M.: A Biography by Peter James Carlin (2024)

From the publisher: Deeply descriptive and remarkably poetic, steeped in 80s and 90s nostalgia, The Name of This Band is R.E.M. paints a cultural history of the commercial peak and near-total collapse of a great music era, and the story of the generation that came of age at the apotheosis of rock.

The Harder I Fight the More I Love You by Neko Case (2025)

From the publisher: Case brings her trademark candor and precision to a memoir that traces her evolution from an invisible girl “raised by two dogs and a space heater” in rural Washington state to her improbable emergence as an internationally-acclaimed talent. In luminous, sharp-edged prose, Case shows readers what it’s like to be left alone for hours and hours as a child, to take refuge in the woods around her home, and to channel the monotony and loneliness and joy that comes from music, camaraderie, and shared experience into art.

How Women Made Music: A Revolutionary History from NPR Music edited by Alison Fensterstock (2024)

From the publisher: Drawn from NPR Music’s acclaimed, groundbreaking series Turning the Tables, the definitive book on the vital role of Women in Music—from Beyoncé to Odetta, Taylor Swift to Joan Baez, Joan Jett to Dolly Parton—featuring archival interviews, essays, photographs, and illustrations.

The Jazzmen: How Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Count Basie Transformed America by Larry Tye (2024)

From the publisher: This is the story of three revolutionary American musicians, the maestro jazzmen who orchestrated the chords that throb at the soul of twentieth-century America… What is far less known about these groundbreakers is that they were bound not just by their music or even the discrimination that they, like nearly all Black performers of their day, routinely encountered. Each defied and ultimately overcame racial boundaries by opening America’s eyes and souls to the magnificence of their music. In the process they wrote the soundtrack for the civil rights movement.

Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk by Kathleen Hanna (2024)

From the publisher: An electric, searing memoir by the original rebel girl and legendary front woman of Bikini Kill and Le Tigre… As Hanna makes clear, being in a “girl band,” especially a punk girl band, in those years was not a simple or safe prospect. Male violence and antagonism threatened at every turn, and surviving as a singer who was a lightning rod for controversy took limitless amounts of determination. But the relationships she developed during those years buoyed her–including with her bandmates, Tobi Vail, Kathi Wilcox, and Johanna Fateman; her friendships with Kurt Cobain and Ian MacKaye; and her introduction to Joan Jett- were all a testament to how the punk world could nurture and care for its own.

Music by John Williams (2024) Produced and directed by Laurent Bouzereau

My favorite music documentaries fill me to the brim with joy (see: Twenty Feet from Stardom)  and this journey through the most iconic music in cinema history does just that. Williams wrote the scores for Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, E.T., Harry Potter, Jaws, and lots of other movies that are memorable in part due to Williams’ mastery. It’s only available on Disney+, but it’s worth a trial if you aren’t already a subscriber.

Summer of Soul: (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (2022) Directed by Questlove

I’m cheating a little here when it comes to “recent” releases, but this is another piece of joy. It follows the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival, which was overshadowed by Woodstock and hardly made a blip on the radar. You’ll get the context of the almost-forgotten festival, along with footage of Stevie Wonder, Nina Simone, the 5th Dimension, and Sly and the Family Stone (rest in peace) doing what they do best. If you don’t start moving to Gladys Knight and the Pips’ upbeat rendition of “I Heard It Through the Grapevine,” then I can’t help you. Borrow the DVD from the library or stream it from your preferred service.