My appreciation for all things sonic originates from the all too familiar picturesque grime of South Central Lo Scandalous (Angeles) as well as the daily scholastic visits to the San Fernando Valley. If for some odd reason you don't know what that looks like, take a look at the 10 or so hood movies made since 1986 (plus the futuristic ones where we all die or become prisoners). Prior to having the authority to turn the radio station dial in my dad's spaceship of a 1972 Ford Galaxie 500, we would hear Grace Jones, Devo, Duran Duran and Sade through the speakers. I even remember getting smacked in the face for the word BITCH singing Laid Back's "White Horse."
If pops was feeling the Super 8-Track cassette (yeah, Google that) on a particular day, we would partake in some Bill Withers, Curtis Mayfield, Marvin Gaye, James Brown, and Parliament. Back on the block, boomboxes and weekend house parties would emit the likes of Patrice Rushen, Prince, even more Parliament and Afrika Bambaataa.
I said all that to say this...there was definitive diversity in what tunes we were exposed to on a daily basis. This all adds to a profound respect and appreciation of all music. If it was dope, it was simply dope.