Glacial Errata, No. 77

One: Wilco

A dad band is, by definition, a band listened to by dads.

But there has to be more to it than just that. The world needs standards. Words have to mean things.

Two: The National

My definition may be a bit subjective, so there’s room to quibble, sure, but for me, the word “dad” in “dad band” is definitionally similar to “dad” in “dad joke.”

The dad joke is a groaner, but it’s a groaner you’re allowed to laugh at, because it’s told by a dad, who is a goof. Specifically, the dad is not cool. More than that: He is not trying to be cool. In fact, the dad has sacrificed his own coolness, so as to give you permission to laugh at the groaner, which otherwise you could not permit yourself to laugh at, because it is uncool to laugh at groaner jokes.

The dad band is also, in a sense, not cool. Fundamentally, the dad band might have once been cool, but the dad band was never edgy, never transgressive. Even if the band has since mellowed out, even if the band’s fans now wear khakis and polos, if the band was once known for pushing the limits, it cannot age into being a dad band. Bands known for hard partying—Led Zeppelin, say, or AC/DC—cannot be dad bands. Van Halen is not a dad band. Bands like Slipknot, or Korn, that kinda stuff: even if they weren’t actually all that edgy—if they were trying to be edgy but secretly posers, they are still disqualified from being dad bands. (And while punk may not be dead, it is also not dad.) Nor did a dad band ever change the course of music, like Nirvana or Pink Floyd. Changing the world is not the work of dad bands.

Three: R.E.M.

The dad band might have been cool though, once.

In fact, the dad band was cool once (Nickelback is not a dad band—a dad band is never the butt of jokes about being uncool—dad bands always get a general, lowkey kinda respect). But that was awhile ago. The holotype of the dad band for me—Wilco—has been around since 1994, but for the last three decades, they have only been cool for about 4 years, from 1999 to about 2003. The National was briefly cool, too, around 2009, but not anymore—even putting Taylor Swift on a track in 2023 didn’t really make them cool again (but that’s okay, they’re not in it for coolness; they’re in it for the music). That’s basically the thing: the dad band started out a good, hard-working band, built a following, then got briefly cool, expanding their audience….

And then…cool moved on.

But the band didn’t stop being a band. They were still them. And their audience stayed with them.

Four: Yo La Tengo

Their audience didn’t grow bigger; their audience grew older. The Grateful Dead is not a dad band, because younger generations are getting on the bus all the time. (And besides, while Deadheads may skew male, there are too many women Deadheads for the Dead to be a dad band. The audience of a dad band is predominantly, you know, dads. Not a lot of moms.)

And they are predominantly chill guys. A band like Metallica can never be a dad band, because the fans of dad bands do not now and never have, really, moshed—at least, that’s not their primary thing. They are not guys, even in their youth, who threw cups of beer at the stage—Green Day is not a dad band, nor are The Foo Fighters or the Red Hot Chili Peppers. A dad band concert was and will always be a pretty relaxed and fun night out.

Bands with a lot of drama, like Pink Floyd—or bands that undergo a lot of line-up changes, like the Doobie Brothers—don’t really make for good dad bands. As your dad band of brothers grows older together, you like to imagine that your dad band’s band of dad brothers is also growing older together. (Another reason why a band like Nirvana isn’t a dad band—tragically, Kurt won’t ever grow old with his fans.)

These dads, pretty chill, don’t need complicated music. Some of them may like prog rock, but prog rock isn’t really dad rock. (Yacht rock, maybe, but not prog rock.) Dads don’t want complicated times, nor complicated time signatures. Rush and Steely Dan are too fussy for the average dad.

Five: Dave Matthews Band

That’s how I, personally, would define a dad band. Beloved by a certain set of chill, relaxed, unfussy dudes, who are into music that was once cool, and who got older, didn’t change with the times—but hey, neither did the bands they liked. Those bands kept on putting out stuff they liked, and they kept liking it, and those bands’ fans who were mostly dudes got older and had kids and now they’re all kinda dads and these are the bands they like.

Anyway, these are the good and cool co-founders of Coyote Media:

Their music critics are Rahawa Haile (top row, second from right), and Emma Silvers (top row, left), and Rahawa assures me that neither of them had anything to do with this:

Emma and Rahawa did, however, subsequently take Soleil Ho, the party responsible, to task, so all is forgiven. And all in all, they’re a great organization, and if you’re in the Bay Area, you should definitely support them. You should consider supporting them even if you’re not, because they do excellent work. The Columbia Journalism Review just did a great write-up of what they’re up to, which includes Rahawa’s observation that “Humor is a machete for making the world more tolerable.” Which is something I’ve been thinking about for several days.

And whether you’re a dad or not, listening to a dad band or not, I hope you have a good week.

[Thanks to Elizabeth and Alex for offering feedback on my own dad band taxonomy this week. Dave Matthews Band remains a controversial choice! If you’re unhappy with that one, feel free to sub in Weezer in its place. Also, an informal poll of several 21- and 22-year-old bartenders the other night of who they thought of when they heard the term “dad band” included “Guns ‘N’ Roses,” “Aerosmith,” and “Metallica,” so what do I know, maybe Soleil was right after all. Me? I have reservations, but not about you.]