There are all sorts of silly people who believe that they can make their baby a genius if only they parent in the proper way. Wanting to raise a genius, of course, is proof positive of inherent silliness in a parent.

Nonetheless, there are countless products that tout their "brain-enhancing" capabilities. Many of these toys incorporate classical music, even if the sound is so digitized as to sound like Brian Eno. Classical music labels everywhere have made a mint off such CDs as Bach for Babies, slicing and dicing fine classical fare into prepackaged fast food for baby's brain. Bleah.

One of the moms in our play group (our get-togethers involve the moms and me--the only non-mom of the bunch--eating and drinking while the kids pretty much destroy whatever house we're meeting at that week) asked if we thought it was alright for her daughter to listen to NPR once in a while. We agreed that should be fine. You should know that my son Max is so well-acquainted with NPR that he got confused with the steady rotation of temp anchors on "All Things Considered" last year. Every time someone new popped up on the radio he got concerned.

Max likes the news well enough. If I'm driving the car, another voice is comforting. Of course, music is better than just talking. At least, that's how it seems. And like most people, Max likes some music more than others. Here's a short list of his favorites:

Ryan Adams
The Ramones
The Posies
Mekons (in pop-punk or country-punk phases)
The Rainmakers
The Shins (a gift from his uncles)
John Coltrane
Johnny Cash
Ella Fitzgerald (particularly the songbooks)
Beethoven (every child likes Beethoven, it seems)
Mozart operas (but not much else from ol' Wolfgang)
show tunes (particularly the comic numbers)

So far, there isn't much he really doesn't like, but I have found a few clunkers:

Miles Davis
The Flaming Lips
Sonic Youth
The 13th Floor Elevators
Parliament/Funkadelic
Verdi

A couple of things jumped out at me when I finished writing these lists. First, anyone who has kids knows the little critters like structure. Outsiders may think that the life of a young child is all spontaneous mayhem, but in fact most of the destruction is plotted in advance. And so it makes perfect sense that a baby would enjoy the three-chord mania of the Ramones or the Posies, and, for that matter, the Shins and Mekons are but a step away from that ideal. The Rainmakers (in their glory days) played a sort of swamp groove americana (think CCR meets Bruce Springsteen), and old Johnny Cash is nothing if not boom-chicka-boom straight down the line. Hard to get tighter than that.

Ella Fitzgerald is similarly easy to pinpoint; she's got a great voice and she almost always sang great songs--stuff written literally by the book. As for the show tunes, in every musical there's a comic number or two (think "America" from "West Side Story" or "With a Little Bit of Luck" from "My Fair Lady") where the second banana gets to shine. These pieces are almost always fast, bouncy and full of brass. Strings and winds are alright, but little kids seem to love that big fat brass sound.

Beethoven is pretty easy to understand as well. He writes terribly dramatic and romantic music (in fact, as any first-year theory student knows, he is in fact the king of the romantic style) that pretty much sweeps away everything in its path. Perfect for kids and adults alike. I'm not sure why Max is indifferent to Mozart's symphonies but almost enraptured by the operas. The styles aren't particularly different--the guy had an astonishing ear for facile melody and deft counterpoint. Maybe it's the singing. Perhaps I ought to round up a copy of "Fidelio" and see how Max digs Beethoven's only opera. Though I can tell you he does get into the choral parts of the Ninth.

As for his dislikes, well, I think anyone can understand where a young child wouldn't dig experimental or psychedelic music. And while Parliament (and Funkadelic and the rest of the George Clinton oeuvre) isn't dreadfully out there, it is complicated, much more obviously so than, say, Mozart or Beethoven. This also easily explains the aversion to Verdi. There's a lot going on there, and some of it is decidedly dissonant.

I can't understand Max's intense antipthy toward Miles Davis--especially when that disdain is contrasted with his obvious love of Coltrane (especially the later stuff). It's weird. He starts shrieking in anger the moment he hears that trumpet. He usually likes trumpets. Perhaps Max is already beginning to formulate his own musical taste. Perhaps all of this analysis is just a wee bit over the top.

Um, yeah. In any case, I wouldn't recommend experimenting on your child with music. I just happen to play the stuff I like and see if Max digs it. Past that, well, all this noodling about music is just an outlet for my overburdened, obsessive mind.

Jon Worley's parents played Simon and Garfunkel and the Fifth Dimension to him when he was little. Make of that whatever you like.