Dad rock. The term itself is as comfortable and worn-in as your favorite guitar strap, yet as slippery to define as a greased fretboard. Ask a group of guitar players what bands embody “dad rock,” and you’re likely to get a jam session of diverse opinions. From passionate Reddit debates to thoughtful essays, the essence of dad rock is constantly being strummed out and re-tuned. Frankly, it wasn’t a genre I gave much thought to until Bluey came along and, unexpectedly, made me a convert to this often-maligned musical style. And perhaps, in the process, it might just inspire your next guitar journey.
For many, dad rock simply means the music your dad listens to. It’s not necessarily bad music, but it carries a certain…familiarity. Maybe even a touch of corniness, like that well-loved but slightly embarrassing uncle who always pulls out his acoustic guitar at family gatherings.
Growing up in the 80s, my dad rock landscape was painted with the sounds of John Cougar Mellencamp, Rod Stewart, The Eagles, Bruce Springsteen, and maybe a dash of Van Halen. Classic rock anthems that my Boomer dad would crank up on the car radio. However, recently, my TikTok feed threw me a curveball. Gen Z, it turns out, considers bands popular when I was in high school to be dad rock.
Suddenly, “dad rock” encompasses a bewildering array of artists, many of whom aren’t even strictly rock bands. Think of the ’90s “alternative” music scene – bands like Blink-182, Hoobastank, Rammstein, and The Prodigy are now apparently soundtracking dad life. While I’m not a dad myself, these were my bands back in the day. The realization that this shifting definition might mean I was becoming old and, dare I say, uncool, was a bit jarring. Then, a particular TikTok video struck a chord, leading me down an unexpected musical path thanks to, of all things, a cartoon dog.
SEE ALSO: Why ‘Bluey’ is the ultimate kids’ show for grownups
Bluey’s Dad: Voicing Cartoons and Ripping Guitar Riffs?
On October 6th, TikTok user Zach Mander posted a video highlighting a fascinating fact: David McCormack, the voice behind Bluey’s dad, Bandit, isn’t just an animated canine patriarch. He’s also the frontman of Custard, an Australian indie rock band that enjoyed considerable popularity in the 1990s.
Mander astutely pointed out that if you primarily know McCormack’s voice as Bandit’s warm and playful tones, hearing him sing rock music with Custard is a delightfully strange experience. It’s like finding out your friendly neighbor is secretly a guitar shredding virtuoso.
As someone who appreciates a good musical deep dive and has a soft spot for ’90s indie rock – that glorious era where pop, punk, folk, and emo collided in a chaotic yet brilliant symphony – I immediately queued up Custard on Apple Music. Initially, it was a lark. The idea of listening to rock songs sung by the voice of Bluey’s dad, a character known for his excellent parenting of his adorable pups, was amusing. I didn’t anticipate falling headfirst into a Custard obsession.
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Custard’s music became my constant companion. Pre-work, during work, on my commute, even while doing chores, their sound filled my days. At first, it was background music, a pleasant hum while I went about my tasks. But soon, I found myself actively listening, dancing around, and getting hooked on McCormack’s distinctive Aussie accent delivering lyrics about love, life, and everything in between. (My only musical detour was to dive into Britney Spears’s audiobook, The Woman in Me, narrated by Michelle Williams, because even musical obsessions need a brief intermission.) Custard boasts nine albums, released between 1992 and 2020, and I happily hit shuffle and let the band soundtrack my days.
Beyond Bluey: Custard’s Guitar-Driven Goodness Stands Alone
Let’s be clear: listening to Custard, whether their older tracks or their newer releases, McCormack’s voice is unmistakably Bandit. It’s a fun, slightly surreal experience for any Bluey fan.
It’s incredibly easy to picture the animated Blue Heeler strumming an air guitar while singing about relationship squabbles in “Couple’s Fight” or lamenting unrequited affection in “Girls Like That (Don’t Go For Guys Like Us)”. Perhaps Bandit is even laying down these riffs while Bluey and Bingo are napping – a dad’s gotta have his creative outlet, right?
This juxtaposition creates a playful dissonance. But layered over the ’90s tracks is a powerful wave of nostalgia, a reminder of the raw, sometimes chaotic energy of that musical era. Custard’s alternative rock vibe echoes bands like Harvey Danger, who gifted us the unforgettable anthem “Flagpole Sitta” – that blend of nervous energy and nerdy confidence. (Fans of this vibe should also check out MC Chris.) At times, McCormack’s vocals even take on a more soulful, yearning quality, reminiscent of Elvis Costello. And for guitarists, listening to Custard is a treat – their songs are often built around catchy guitar riffs and jangly chords, perfect for learning and jamming along to. You might even find yourself reaching for your own guitar, inspired by Bandit’s secret rockstar persona.
My initial foray into Custard was almost a joke, a fun fact to share about the connection between this beloved children’s show (that adults secretly adore) and a ’90s band. But the music quickly transcended novelty. I was hooked, not just on the “vintage” tracks that might be categorized as dad rock, but also on their more recent work. Their 2020 album, Respect All Life Forms, pulses with infectious energy and joy, even in its more introspective moments.
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Just as emo and punk anthems transport me back to my mosh pit days, Custard’s music fills me with a similar sense of exhilaration and youthful energy. It’s music that makes you feel lighter, younger, more alive. But because Custard wasn’t a band I listened to back in the ’90s, it’s not solely nostalgia driving my appreciation. There’s a genuine excitement in discovering a band that resonates so strongly. And it’s refreshing to see McCormack not just as the voice of Bandit, but as a multifaceted artist, channeling that same vocal energy into exploring themes of love, loss, and life’s complexities through his music. He’s not just “dad rock” in the stereotypical sense; he’s a musician continually evolving and becoming more compelling with time. (He even makes a voice appearance in the wonderfully quirky Adventure Time spin-off, Fionna and Cake.) This discovery opens up a wider appreciation for “dad rock” as a genre that’s not about being stuck in the past, but about music that resonates across generations.
Embracing Dad Rock and Growing as a Music Lover (and Maybe a Guitarist)
My journey with Custard forced me to confront my initial resistance to “dad rock.” The fear of becoming boring, uncool, or complacent often accompanies middle age. The image of smugly settling into the familiar, rejecting anything new, is a real concern. Ironically, my hesitation about embracing dad rock wasn’t about coolness, but about the fear of stagnation, of becoming like those dads who dismiss new music out of hand.
I deeply cherish much of the music, movies, and TV from my youth, even as a critic who can now recognize some of it as, well, objectively not great. (I’ll still happily binge-watch those cheesy early ’00s studio slashers, because enjoyment isn’t always about high art.) But staying connected to your past doesn’t equate to being stuck there. The goal is to keep growing, not just growing older. That means actively seeking out new experiences, embracing challenges, whether they be new ideas, weird films, or, yes, even dad rock. And perhaps even trying out new guitar styles or bands within that genre.
It’s this desire to expand my horizons that led me to Bluey in the first place. Well, that and two incredibly enthusiastic young relatives who are (rightly) obsessed with a show that’s essentially pure heartwarming joy in cartoon form. Bluey, in turn, led me to Custard. And now, Apple Music is suggesting other bands I might enjoy, expanding my musical landscape. I’m also recommending Custard to friends, who are sharing their own musical discoveries and playlists in return. This musical exploration is a continuous journey.
Unexpectedly, embracing dad rock – in this case, music that appeals to contemporary dads and rock music made by an actual cartoon dad – has become a part of embracing a new phase of my own musical identity. Maybe to some, all this sounds “cringe.” But honestly, it’s hard to care when you’re too busy bouncing around to Custard’s infectious guitar riffs and catchy tunes. So, if you’re a guitar player looking for some new inspiration, or just a music lover open to broadening your horizons, maybe start with Bluey, discover Custard, and see where your own dad rock journey takes you – you might just find your next favorite band, and maybe even pick up your guitar along the way.
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