The Deserted Bandwagon

Author: Matt Kunzweiler

Everyone hypes J-Term, says it's ridiculous, says the scene is out-of-control, says (to use the parlance of preppy kids trying to sound ethnic) "the parties are off the proverbial hizzle." But no. J-Term is little more than an extended weekend in Vermont's most godforsaken month, during which students merely increase the frequency of their drunkenness, making no attempt to improve the prevailing attitude responsible for this campus scene being so…well…monotonous.

The truth is, though politically liberal, this campus is rigidly conservative in its "chillin" and partying. Sure, there are exceptions, but I'm talking about the larger community. Even when students swig down can after can of Busch Light and jive mechanically on the McCullough dance floor, things are just flat awkward. And when someone asks me, "Wasn't that social house party rad?" - my answer is, "No, it was a windowless room that smelled like egg and bile."

But I think I've found the remedy, the ideal way to save J-Term from the uptight banalities of years past. And it's not Jäger or speed. It's The Darkness, the British glam-rock band that brings searing falsettos, safari-print cat-suits, indulgent guitar work and, most importantly, Excess, back to the mainstream. It's a Queen-meets-Spinal Tap concoction that disbands self-consciousness and self-restraint in its musicians and listeners alike. If we could all just listen to The Darkness' new album - "One Way Ticket to Hell…and Back" - I think J-Term might actually live up to its reputation.

Let's just say, for the sake of convenience, that a capella is the symptom of all things deficient with Middlebury's scene. You may already know my opinion of a capella: it's about as uncomfortable to witness as a two-man luge. But The Darkness is the perfect rebuttal. For backing, they don't rely on a small posse of beat-boxing college students who were over-encouraged during their high school musicals. No, The Darkness employs cappella galore: an orchestra, pan flutes, bagpipes, a Mini-Moog, tubular bells, tambourines, keys… and of course, guitars, bass, drums and an electric sitar.

I believe that the ethos of "One Way Ticket" is the missing link between the current Middlebury parties and the enviable ragers of which we are capable. Lead singer and guitarist Justin Hawkins asks us to realize our inner-David St. Hubbins, to self-actualize in the most overabundant and uninhibited ways possible. With the inspiration of The Darkness, maybe the sleazy pick-up lines on campus would sound less like "Wanna come back to my room and hear me play 'Redemption Song' on my acoustic guitar?" and more like, "Baby, my sign might be Gemini, but I'm hung like Taurus." Which would be an improvement…because no one wants to hear you play "Redemption Song."

Last year, my 21st birthday fell on the third-to-last day of J-Term, and some friends decided to throw me a surprise party…. After being force-served Cap'n Mo at the gun barrels of peer pressure, I was sent into the next room, where an inflatable kiddie-pool filled with Jell-O awaited. Then the sloppy wrestlin' began. By the end there was Jell-O on the ceiling and I had almost broken my shoulder. It was epic, to say the least. But one thing all of us Jell-O wrestlers witnessed before entering the ring was The Darkness poster hanging in the anteroom, which preached absurdity and reckless abandon, told us to buck the hum-drumness of J-Term and Midd life, at large. And it sure worked.

So, even if you don't listen to the album, at least adopt The Darkness' mentality - because on your deathbed you won't say, "I wish I played more Madden 05 during J-Term."