My dad was one of the reasons I got into rock and roll, because I

In the raw honesty of memory, Billy Idol, the rebel poet of rock and roll, once confessed: “My dad was one of the reasons I got into rock and roll, because I was learning the ropes of his business, which was selling power tools, and I was looking for a way out from under his heel. I was like, ‘Where’s the fun? Where’s the glamour?’” These words, at first glance, may sound like the defiance of youth — the cry of a son yearning to escape the shadow of his father. Yet within them lies a deeper current: the timeless struggle between duty and desire, between the world as it is and the world as the heart imagines it could be.

The origin of this quote rests in the life of a young man growing up in the grey hum of postwar England. Billy Idol, born William Michael Albert Broad, came of age in a time when industry and commerce were the lifeblood of family survival. His father, like many men of his generation, lived by the creed of labor and responsibility — the sturdy virtues of work, provision, and perseverance. Yet for his son, that world of power tools and profit felt like a cage, a rhythm too mechanical for the pulse of his restless soul. Rock and roll, with its roar and rebellion, became his liberation — his answer to the question, “Where’s the fun? Where’s the glamour?” It was not mere rebellion, but the awakening of creative destiny — the realization that life must be lived with fire, not only function.

To understand the meaning of Idol’s words, one must first recognize the tension between generations that has shaped humanity since its dawn. The father builds structure; the son seeks freedom. The father’s world is safety, order, and reason; the son’s world is passion, chaos, and vision. Yet it is from this very tension that progress is born. Without the father’s foundation, the son’s dream collapses into dust. Without the son’s rebellion, the father’s legacy turns to stone. Thus, in Idol’s yearning to break free from his father’s heel, we see not rejection, but transformation — the eternal rhythm of growth, where one generation’s walls become the next generation’s stepping stones.

In ancient times, such stories were told again and again. Think of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, defying the cautious wisdom of his father Daedalus. His wings melted, and he fell — yet his name became immortal. Or consider Gautama Siddhartha, who walked away from the palace of his father, leaving behind gold and privilege to seek enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. In each tale, the son’s flight from the father’s domain is not mere rebellion; it is the soul’s quest for authenticity, for meaning beyond inheritance. Billy Idol’s path, though marked not by temples or myths but by stages and amplifiers, follows the same archetypal journey. His rock and roll was his Bodhi tree, his skyward flight, his declaration that life must be lived by the heart’s rhythm, not merely by the ticking of the clock.

Yet there is tenderness hidden in his words. He speaks of his father not with anger, but with acknowledgment — “one of the reasons I got into rock and roll.” The man he once sought to escape became, in a strange and beautiful way, his inspiration. For rebellion, when guided by purpose, does not destroy; it creates. The push of the father’s world gave rise to the pull of the son’s destiny. It is often in resistance that we discover our strength. Like a seed pushing against the earth, we grow only when something presses upon us. Idol’s father, with his work and rules, became the necessary resistance that shaped his son’s art.

There is also a lesson here for both generations. For the young, Idol’s words remind us that the yearning for joy and expression is sacred, not shameful. It is not betrayal to seek a path different from one’s parents; it is the fulfillment of life’s design. And for the old, it is a reminder that every child must one day stand on their own — not to reject the past, but to carry it forward in a new form. The father’s trade builds the hands; the son’s dream awakens the soul. When both are honored, the world becomes richer for it.

The lesson of Billy Idol’s quote, then, is this: follow the music within you, even if it leads you away from the comfort of what is known. The heart’s call may seem reckless, but it is the call that builds the future. For some, that music will be literal — a song that shakes the walls of conformity. For others, it will be the quiet melody of purpose, the yearning to write, to heal, to build, to teach. Do not fear that your path diverges from those who came before you; for it is through divergence that humanity evolves. The father may forge the tool, but the son will find a new use for it.

So remember, my children of tomorrow: as Billy Idol reminds us, every generation must ask, “Where’s the fun? Where’s the glamour?” — not in pursuit of vanity, but in pursuit of life’s full splendor. Honor the work that came before you, but never let it chain your spirit. Seek your joy boldly, live your truth loudly, and when the world tells you to conform, answer it with a song. For it is through such daring hearts that the fire of creation continues to burn — from fathers to sons, from labor to art, from duty to destiny.