There are two kinds of people in this world:
People who hear the opening to “Sweet Home Alabama” and immediately feel at peace…
and people we don’t trust.
I was raised on what the internet now calls Dad Rock — but to me it wasn’t a genre, it was just life. It was the soundtrack to riding in an old truck with the windows down, to sitting in the garage while somebody “fixed” something that didn’t actually need fixing, and to Saturday mornings when the lawnmower was louder than the TV.
Dad rock isn’t just music.
It’s a lifestyle with a cigarette lighter and a cassette player.
The Official Ingredients of Dad Rock
Every dad rock song must contain at least one of the following:
• A guitar solo that lasts longer than my attention span
• Lyrics about a woman named Jenny, Mary, or some mysterious “mama”
• A reference to the open road, whiskey, or working hard
• A singer that sounds like he gargled gravel for breakfast
And somehow… it all works.
Core Memories, Sponsored by Classic Rock
Some of my earliest memories are tied to those songs. Sitting beside my dad while he cleaned tools in the garage, country and classic rock bouncing off the walls. The smell of oil, metal, and whatever project he swore would “only take an hour.” Watching him tap his fingers on the steering wheel like he was the drummer for Lynyrd Skynyrd himself.
Dad rock taught me important life lessons:
• If life gets hard, just turn the music up
• Every problem can be solved with a longer guitar solo
• You’re legally required to yell “FREE BIRD!” at least once in your life
Those songs felt bigger than the radio. They felt like stories — about growing up, messing up, loving somebody, leaving town, and finding your way back.
Why It Still Hits Different
I don’t care how many new artists come out, nothing will ever replace the feeling of:
• “Dream On” coming on at full volume
• The first notes of “Simple Man” making you suddenly philosophical
• “Back in Black” turning you into a certified tough guy for 4 minutes
Dad rock is comfort music. It’s not trying to be trendy. It doesn’t care about TikTok dances. It just exists to be played too loud in a truck with questionable gas mileage.
And honestly? That’s beautiful.
Passing the Torch
One day I’ll probably be the “mom” in the car embarrassing my kids with the same songs. They’ll roll their eyes while I explain, “No, you don’t understand, this is REAL music.”
And I’ll smile knowing the cycle continues.
Because dad rock isn’t just for dads.
It’s for daughters riding shotgun.
For Saturday drives.
For late nights and long roads.
For anybody who feels something when that guitar kicks in.
So here’s to the music that raised us —
the riffs, the radios, and the dads who made sure we knew every word.
Rock on forever 🤘
