There were two main musical influences when I was a kid.
First were my parents. On weekdays, folk rock and acoustic music was their choice. The best I remember is John Denver, Cat Stevens, Don McLean, and the Carpenters. Throw in some Platters and Beatles for a good mix. Guess that’s why—even without prodding—I easily liked James Taylor, Caedmon’s Call, Hungry Young Poets, Damien Rice, and Teitur.
Second was my eldest brother. He was big on radio then than records. His taste then was the Top 40 hits comprised mostly of pop songs by Michael Jackson, The Human League, Debbie Gibson, and The Bangles. And, unlike my parents, he inflicted his music on the rest of the house. Possibly even the whole neighborhood. Sadly, I copied that habit.
On Sabbaths, it’s a whole other selection. Since I was still a kid then, music included the Heritage Singers which alternated with Psalty and Colby. That meant a day of slow, feel-good, religious songs.
Up until now, my parents still listen to their records and my brother is still stuck in the 80s. Their choices have rubbed off on me so, if my collection is inspected, one could see traces of their influence on me. And I have come to love what it is that they listened to.
like reading on trains 
It is interesting–I feel that for some families, there can be acquiescence with musical preferences, and sometimes there can be rebellion. Although I already posted something today, I think I’ll explore tomorrow.
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I know of friends who have stark different musical tastes from their parents and the rest of the family. They say they find their identity in it–but mainly they play those songs to annoy those around them and are quite effective.
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