The Deserted Bandwagon

Author: MATT KUNZWEILER

(Quick disclaimer: the following column is intended for the enjoyment of the 80 or so Middlebury College students who don't sing in an a cappella group. I feel obligated to say this because a cappella is a dangerously popular extracurricular activity and the following could turn quite a few people against me. But what the hell.)

A cappella, which makes every song sound mysteriously similar to Hanson's "MMMBop," has been politely encouraged for far too long, and we all need to take our a cappella-singing friends aside and tell them the hard honest truth - nobody enjoys this butchery. And no, I will not be purchasing one of your CDs. Please let me enter the dining hall unmolested. I'll be giving my money to the tsunami relief fund at the table next to yours. For the longest time I thought "cappella" meant "talent."

Everything a cappella does wrong, Slotter Creek does right. While a cappella groups use guilt tripping and sub par baked goods to attract students to intimate performances where there is plenty of room on the floor to sit cross-legged, Slotter Creek lures people to its sketchy venues with free PBR and obscene volume. It is the volume I appreciate most - a testimony to my thesis - the more cappella, the better.

Have you ever seen a George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic concert? There are 15 instrumentalists on stage at any given time, not counting the woman whose only job as far as I can see is to hold joints to the musicians' mouths. And in one form or another, the band has been filling venues for three decades, which is more than anyone can say for Rockappella, the most popular a cappella group in history. The greatest exposure the band ever had was during its five season-long cameo on the educational PBS show for children, "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" They have since enjoyed limited success in Japan.

Then why college? Why are we - the supposedly educated - encouraging a dead and aesthetically devoid genre? We need to ask our friends to move on. Sure, I once liked a cappella. But then I discovered that "Saved by the Bell" and "Carmen Sandiego" had competing time slots.

The last time I was at Angela's Pub (its slogan is 'Me not drunk!' - seriously, it's on their matchbooks), everyone was dancing sloppily to the DJ's shameless blaring of '80s "butt rock" anthems, the likes of which are often covered by Slotter Creek. A local woman, likely inspired by the liberating hair metal ambiance, propositioned my friend and me for a three person sexual hoorah. I voiced an unequivocal no, but my drinking buddy was disappointed by my lack of gusto and told me to take one for the team. Of course, he is a hopeless romantic. And the rhythm guitarist for Slotter Creek. This was the only time I wished an a cappella CD could be played on the speakers. It would have been the perfect buzzkill.