She was receptive to mostly everything I played but nothing stuck like Bob Marley. By the time she was 2, she started crying and throwing fits if I didn't run 'Smile Jamaica,' 'Natty Dread,' or 'War' back about 10 times each. She seemed to know the words to about two dozen of his songs. What began as just me playing music that I liked for my daughter began to have more purpose when it came to Marley. The sunny Saturday afternoons from my own childhood were soundtracked by my mother—who had played in reggae bands—blasting Marley, Beres Hammond, and Buju Banton out of her car or in the house. Passing that onto Ayden started to feel important to me and it was probably the first time I thought about preserving a family tradition. But what made it feel most rewarding is what Bob Marley was about: uniting black people worldwide, promoting a black messiah, uplifting broken spirits. All of which was greatly needed during his lifetime, before it, and right now for all that we've endured over the past 400 years. Ayden being familiar with his work felt like a good move.