At the University, music is omnipresent. Walking through dorms, you can hear an eclectic mix of songs permeating through the walls. In our stately dining halls speakers pump the jams of virtuosos ranging from Sir Mix-A-Lot to Creed — a nice pairing with the classy food within. Even in the sanctuaries of our libraries, a majority of students tune out the silence with headphones.
I think music is life’s greatest gift. Science, literature and the whole bag of the finer things life has allotted us can’t quite compare. Many may disagree with me, but I find music to be one of the only forms of art where the intricacies and feelings invoked can’t be conveyed through explanation, but must be experienced. And one of the greatest parts of music lies in its accessibility and variety, allowing everyone to explore and develop unique tastes.
That individuality in music, though, tends to dissipate on Grounds. Music-followers at the University can be crudely grouped into categories. Chances are, whether you know it or not, you belong to certain subsections of audiophiles, or at least pretend to subscribe to one.
First and foremost we have the good ol’ boys: aficionados of everything from south of the Mason-Dixon line. Found on various rooftops and porches along Rugby Road, this not-so-rare breed of collegiate music-lover has almost turned into a parody of itself. Think “Wagon Wheel” and “Atlantic City” blasting, man with a PBR or two in hand. Fortunately for the rest of us, this group is mostly active during the daytime. But, unfortunately for the rest of us, there’s a new breed of music-lovers who emerge at night.
Shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by neon-colored lasers lurk these night owls. They answer to many names: Bass-heads, Guidos and a full catalog of semi-derogatory labels. They call many places home, including rave parties in fraternity basements, Trinity’s upper floor, and the Jefferson’s dance floor on the rare Tuesday evening. Yes, here we can find the faithful bunch that keeps everyone’s favorite EDM artist in business.
As for our next set of music lovers, you’ve probably never heard of them. Sipping tea and vehemently affirming that they knew your favorite band “before they were cool,” the hipsters emerge from their underground lairs to flaunt their musical prowess. The scariest part of the hipster revolution? Their numbers are growing, and problems they cause are becoming increasingly ubiquitous.
I can no longer tell whether a strangely-worded phrase serves as a band name or a song title. Looking through a crowd, I can’t tell whether an odd shape reveals a peacock’s tail or a hipster’s haircut. Meanwhile their music continues to push boundaries that no sane human ever intended to witness. Offbeat screeching in different tongues at various pitches never exactly struck the right chord for me, and I always considered the didgeridoo in American music to be a didgeri-don’t.
My list may be a tad brief, but the point remains the same. From smelly Rastafarians to Brick-Squad enthusiasts to lovers of everything smooth jazz, varying and sometimes conflicting groups of music listeners make life fun, interesting and sonically eclectic. Much more essential though lays the purpose all these types of music serve: inspiring the University community to reach a musically charged, and obviously better, atmosphere of groove.
Aidans’ column runs biweekly Fridays. He can be reached at a.cochrane@cavalierdaily.com.
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