A personal headcanon of mine is that Texas kept boxes and boxes of records/cds/cassette tapes. Sorted by genre, in alphabetical order. Jazz, country, dad rock, blues, R&B.
When he met Krolia, he introduced her to human music with these records. He wasn't sure what Galran music was like, what Krolia would like, though he went through every box with her to learn. Imagine his surprise when this badass, highly trained galran warrior prefers to listen to The Ronettes and Ben E. King. He began to pick up more oldies for her, teaching her the artists' names and the respective genres she preferred.
When she left, Tex set aside a box of all her favorites and played them for Keith growing up. Keith learned music through him the same way Krolia did, though he leaned more towards rock and blues, he had an unwavering fondness for all the music in the displaced, unsorted box of worn records.
When his Dad died in the field and Keith was surrendered to foster care for having no close living relatives, he always kept cassette tapes and players with him to help ease the affliction of missing his Dad. It reminded him of the lull of music in the shack, of his Dad's collection, of the familiar tunes from the unsorted box constantly being replayed.
