Author Archives: Ang Stefano Zimmer

Four days after the fact, I am now quite certain that last Thursday night’s Phish show was simultaneously one of the weirdest and most amazing concert experiences I’ve ever had.

I’ve heard the stories of the caravans and huge lines and people abandoning their cars and walking to get to the venue in time to see the show — but, quite frankly, I even still totally and completely underestimated the fanatical level of devotion Phisheads (my new name for them; I’m sure someone’s used this before) show. I always just assumed a Phish show would be similar to a Dave Matthews Band show, in both atmosphere and general crowd behavior. That’s close, but it still doesn’t quite describe it.

Afterwards, I compared it to a party with 20,000 of your closest friends — that’s also close. My dad called it a cult — I think that’s closer.

Ironically enough, it was the Woodstock Anniversary weekend. I say ironically because I’m fairly certain a Phish show is the closest I’m ever going to get to Woodstock. Not only did ’60s VW vans abound in the parking lot — seriously, I counted at least five, and that’s a low estimate — and that general “peace and love” attitude (and lots of pot) flow through the whole crowd, but over in one far corner of the parking lot (with a few others scattered throughout the rest of the area) was an entire group of vendors. Or, perhaps more appropriately, a group of Phisheads who, I can only imagine, have spent their summer following the band from venue to venue and sell food, clothing, beer, jewelry (most of which I would have bought in a heartbeat; it was all beautiful), bongs, etc. to finance their trip. I could have spent the night just people-watching in the parking lot and listening to the concert from outside the gates, and I would have been content. I also would not have gotten a contact high and felt like death the next morning — but that’s beside the point.

That was the “most amazing concert experience” part. And as cool as it was, I think the weirdness might be even more worth documenting.

There was the part where a very drunk, probably mid-20s guy offered my (enjoying this whole thing, but, honestly, sort of old and out-of-place in this crowd) dad a drink or drugs or something. He also called him “sir.” There was also the part where I got indirectly told I look like I am 16 (I’m taking solace in the fact that I think they were both incredibly blazed, drunk, or both).

And then there’s this phenomenon of bringing whole families to the concert. I’m talking the WHOLE family — two-month-old, can’t hold their own heads up, babies, toddlers, five- and six-year-olds…everyone. A lot of the people that were following the band from show to show had little children with them, too. Now, I’d say I’m pretty relaxed when it comes to taking little kids to concerts. I think it’s a great idea. I’m all for exposing kids to music at a young age. I certainly don’t have kids of my own yet, but when I do, you can be sure they’ll be going to concerts with me — HOWEVER, 1. they’ll probably be at least seven or eight, dependingon the show. I won’t start bringing them when they’re newborns. It’s called a babysitter!…and 2. you can be damn sure I won’t be taking them to a show where it’s possible their mother will end up with a contact high, because God only knows what sort of damage that would do to a baby.

Then there’s the whole part about tickets. Taking a family of four, two adults and two kids, to that Darien show, would have run you over $200. I’m sorry, I’m sure these parents love their babies — but no two-month-old is worth a $50 ticket for a show they’re going to fall asleep during and not understand. And can you imagine how that adds up if you follow them for a summer? How do they afford this? I honestly want to know. Selling chicken fajitas and beer to the tailgaters pre-concert isn’t gonna pay for all of that.

I did, however, tell my dad he had really deprived me when I was little because my family didn’t spend our summers in a VW van following Phish. I also told him I’d need a lot of therapy to get over it. I was mostly kidding.

Oh, and remember that part about the concert being a party with 20,000 of your closest friends? If you don’t know all the words (seriously, every single last word to every song, and, if you’re really good, all the musical parts, too, so you can air guitar or air drum along to the music) and aren’t going to dance like a stoned, drunk, white person (I specify white because 1. I have to doubt that there was anyone of color in that audience and 2. no self-respecting, actually-has-rhythm-and-moves black person would be caught dead dancing the way Phisheads do. Stuff White People Like should do an entire entry just on this phenomenon.), you’re going to feel like that kid at the party who no one really knows and spends the whole night leaning on the wall, pretending like he’s having a good time by himself just listening to the music. It’s a little awkward.

This is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the concert. The show was wonderful. Just sitting there and listening to the band and watching the crowd was well worth the $50 ticket. I could have done without my allergy attack and the post-concert contact high, but, hey, you win some, you lose some.

I’m just saying — I think I totally misjudged Phisheads. They are truly fanatical, like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I apologize for comparing you to DMB fans. There was not a drunken frat boy with a popped collar in the house.

And, I’ve gotta admit, for never having a Top 10 album and for never gaining much commercial fame — it’s all pretty impressive.

Every generation has gotten their “growing up, moving on” songs. I’ll call them “milestone moment” songs for the purpose of this rant.

Saying every generation might be an exaggeration — but the 1990’s were full of them, and that’s the decade this whole argument stems from.

Teenagers in the ’90s had their pick of songs for senior proms, high school graduations, and the final days before college. Green Day (“Good Riddance”) and Semisonic (“Closing Time”) have two of the most famous of these songs, and what’s ironic is they weren’t even meant to be about those life-chapter-ending times. One was about a breakup and is written totally sarcastically, one is, strangely enough, about birth, not about the closing of a bar. Hey, if the song fits, I suppose.

Then, of course, you have the songs that are supposed to be about growing up and moving on — Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You,” Eve 6’s “Here’s to the Night,” and, most appropriately, Vitamic C’s oh-so-cryptically-titled-and-written “Graduation Song” — which also hold their place in that “last dance at prom” or “the song I listened to with all my friends the night before we graduated” hall of fame. I could expand the list to tracks by LeAnn Rimes and Michelle Branch, if I really think about it.

It’s not that I don’t like these songs. In fact, with probably the exception of Vitamin C (just because, really, it’s a song with such a narrow usefulness), they all hold a spot on my iPod and, to be cliche, a special place in my heart. I used all of these songs in an eighth grade class video and listened to at least one of them in the days before I graduated high school and college and the night before I first went to BU. They tug at my heart strings and take me back to those milestone moments and, sometimes, make me cry (Wow, I really am a dweeb).

But these songs are old hat (and so is that saying). Basically all of them, with perhaps the exception of “Closing Time,” “Good Riddance” and “I Will Remember You” because they were from the early-mid ’90s, were recent enough to qualify as those “milestone moment” songs for my generation (and even those three we used and made ours anyways).

But I’m not sure how much longer teenagers can get away with using them.

True, they still fit for graduations and proms today (As it should be with any good song, their message doesn’t wear out through the years), so I suppose I would call them (or at least the three oldest) “classics” in the broadest sense of the term, meaning that they are still relevant and popular. However, that sentiment of, “I’m growing up and moving on to bigger things, but I want you to know this time/your friendship/whatever has been special to me, and I hope we remain in touch” certainly isn’t something no one experiences today (I’m pretty sure we all experience it at one point or another), so why haven’t the artists of the 2000’s come up with any brilliant “milestone moment” songs?

I feel like they’re making this generation miss out on something. I want the teenagers of today (and future teenagers, I guess, if we feel like getting really old-woman-y here) to have their own special songs for proms and graduations. Partly, it’s because I’m getting tired of hearing the same songs used at proms and graudations. And, strangely enough, I think it’s also partly because I want those songs that were special to me to be special to only me and those that shared those moments with me. I know the point of a good song, a classic song (emphasis on “good” and “classic”) is (we just went through this, but in case I have to refresh your memory) to mean something to a lot of people and cross generational, racial, culture, etc. gaps, while still being special somehow to each individual person.

I think I’m getting too deep here and should save this for another post — but either way, I think it’s time these songs ended their run. Give some other songs a chance.

So this is a call to all the artists out there who will probably never read this blog — write a song to fill that gap. Be this generation’s Green Day or Semisonic (perferably for you, Green Day, because that would mean you’ve been highly successful and, hell, are having a musical created out of a wonderful, wonderful album). Find a way to write a song that will mean to the teenagers of 2009 what those songs meant to the teenagers of 1999. Give me another song to add to this list.

I don’t know if they can do it. I honestly don’t think I have faith in most of the popular bands out there to create one of these songs. I certainly can’t see Lil’ Wayne writing one. Miley Cyrus or the Jonas Brothers, maybe — but if it has staying power, I lose all faith in the music business.

Or do you think I’ve totally missed the mark — Is there a “milestone moment” song out there for the class of 2009 and beyond, and I’ve just failed to see it for one?

If you’re like me, you don’t check ESPN.com unless someone tells you to. Well, I’m going to be that someone and tell you to go read Part One and Part Two of Bill Simmons’ column from this week, because, as per the usual with his stuff, it’s funny, and, more importantly — and the reason I was even told to read this column in the first place — it’s totally based around Almost Famous.

Now, once again, if you’re like me, you’re going to skim over this article because you really don’t like basketball, and you’re just reading the column because it’s based around your favorite movie. Simmons hooked you in by naming Almost Famous the movie of the decade, and you really enjoy the thought of reading all the best quotes from the movie — but the basketball stuff? Eh, skimmable.

I’m warning you, though, skim well. Specifically, quote #16 in Part One reveals some very interesting information about the part of Russell that may make you shudder, want to cry, etc., and Part Two brings up the idea of using “Levon” instead of “Tiny Dancer” in what is my — and I think a lot of people’s — favorite scene (or one of them) in the movie.

It is with this article as a catalyst that I give you…*drumroll*…The Almost Famous Drinking Game. I wish I could tie this in even better and say that the article made me dream this up, but Meg and I created the rules a few weeks ago. Just as a warning, you should know that we love this movie and know it inside and out, so, um, you’re probably going to find yourself drinking to a lot of things.

It’s called the When Harry Met Sally syndrome — men and women cannot possibly be just friends. There is always some romantic attraction there, and, eventually, they are going to act on it or have to end the friendship/have the friendship ruined by awkward sexual tension.

I call bullshit.

I know that everyone buys into this whole idea. I know everyone buys into most of the ideas in relationship advice books/the advice given out by “relationship experts.” And, to be honest, I LOVE When Harry Met Sally.

But this whole idea that men and women can’t be friends? Nope, I just don’t buy it. I can’t agree with it when I’m friends with a whole bunch of guys who I love dearly but NEVER, EVER in my life would be attracted to. They’re like my brothers, for the most part, and, because we’re not in the South, that’s just wrong.

Sit down and think about your real-life friendships with the opposite sex. Can you honestly say, for every heterosexual person of the opposite sex (or homosexual person of the same sex, if you roll like that) that you are friends with, you would date each and every one of those people? That you’d like to explore a romantic relationship with them? That you’d be OK with a one night stand with them?

…I didn’t think so. And don’t think that it’s any different for most of them. Yeah, I’m sure it’s nice to picture yourself as an incredibly desirable human being that all your friends want to be with, but, come on now. That’s just your delusional fantasy world. Fun, yes. Real? Not so much.

While we’re at it, I’d also like to call bullshit on the idea that exes cannot be friends — and I’m talking real friends, not the fake “Oh, hi, how are you doing, I’ve missed you so much, let’s catch up over coffee, K bye” type of friends. There’s enough happily divorced couples out there who are still friends to dispel that myth right now.

So you try it, it doesn’t work out, and you end it. Unless it was a horrible break up — someone cheated, someone said mean things, some other imaginable, horrible circumstance — I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be friends. Let’s face it, there was something that attracted you to that person in the first place, and, except in extreme cases (see above), that doesn’t just disappear when you break up. Sometimes you’re just better off being friends, but it takes a failed relationship to make you realize that.

Once again I draw on my own experience — one of my best friends is an ex-boyfriend. Yes, it was a short, strange relationship, and, yes, we did have a rough time navigating the friendship waters for a while, but we have an incredible amount of things in common and pretty much “get” each other all the time. With the exception of my boyfriend, he is the first person I go to for advice or just to talk.

Then again, maybe I’m an anomaly, I don’t know. But, honestly, just because popular culture says we should curse our exes to hell, seek revenge on them and their new significant other, and be sleeping with all of our friends of the opposite sex doesn’t mean jack.

And I can’t be the only person out there to realize that.

When done right, a cover song is two things — first, it’s one of the best tributes a band can give another band (as in, you know you’ve made it when somebody wants to sing your stuff), and, secondly, it can be even better than the original. Covers can turn a song you would NEVER listen to into your new favorite.

I’m not talking about the kind of covers a bar band does night after night. I’m talking the let’s-put-a-new-twist-on-something-old kind of covers more famous bands do. Dig deep, and you’ll find a hidden trove of covers from every band out there.

It’s no secret covers (along with mash-ups…but that’s for a different day) are some of my favorite songs. I have hundreds of them on my computer, some of which are awful (yeah, I’m looking at you, obscure punk bands that cover 90’s songs, rap songs, pop songs, etc. for Fearless Records compilations), and some of which are just incredible.

In no particular order, here are my top 10 favorite covers (as always, written with the knowledge that I will soon find something I like better, and this list will change):

“Wonderwall” — Cartel (originally by Oasis)
I love Oasis. I wish the Gallaghers would stop beating each other up and learn to get along so they could tour. I kick myself every time I think about the fact that I missed seeing them in Toronto a few years ago. And, on top of all of this, (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? is a totally classic album, and “Wonderwall” is, of course, the song EVERYONE knows. So, covering it’s a pretty big job.

Fortunately, when Fearless Records decided to do their Punk Goes ’90s compilation, they found Cartel for this cover and gave us this hidden gem in the coal mine that is their typical entire CD of obscure punk bands covering the Backstreet Boys and Destiny’s Child (I’m not kidding you; I’m sorry). Lead singer Will Pugh doesn’t try and copy the intonations of the original version (see the second verse’s “I don’t believe that anybody…” line), and the band did a great job of making the song their own. Plus, I have it on authority this guys are pretty cool as people, so that helps.

“Careless Whisper” — Seether (originally by George Michael)
There are a lot of goth-rock bands out there like Seether, but they have a couple things that put them in a separate category from the others. First off, they’re from Africa (I don’t know, this just makes them more awesome to me); they do that slow-rock-ballad thing pretty well, as well as that goth-rock “I hate (slash, love, slash, want to have meaningless sex with) everyone” thing; third, they made this song listenable.

Seether took the 80s elevator/synth music of George Michael and made it into something you wouldn’t even know was a cover. Honestly, it sounds Seether-like. The only thing that would make it better is if we could get Amy Lee and Shaun Morgan back together and make it a duet.

“Simple Man” — Shinedown (originally by Lynyrd Skynyrd)
When you’re going to cover Skynyrd, you better make it good. But when you’ve come up in that same southern rock tradition (see Three Doors Down, Saving Abel, Kid Rock, and these guys), you probably know that, and you probably don’t want to get lynched if you eff it up.

This cover gives me chills. I have to sing it every time I hear it. You could substitute their version (OK, maybe not this particular version, but the studio one for sure) into a playlist of Skynyrd songs and it would fit right in, which just makes me admire Brent Smith’s voice even more, because he can sing something like this and his own, more rock stuff. He just sounds like he belongs in the ’70s. I’m serious — it’s that damn good.

But, then again, when you’re southern rockers at heart, I think this stuff comes naturally.

“I Don’t Want to Know” — Goo Goo Dolls (originally by Fleetwood Mac)
Yes, yes, I love the Goo Goo Dolls. Yes, yes, they can do no wrong in my mind. But this song would stand as a good cover whether all that was true or not. They recorded their version of IDWTK for a Fleetwood Mac tribute album. It’s a touch on the obscure side, so I can’t find it online, but the song is totally redone — which is good, because it’s one song on this list, the original version of which I don’t like.

If you can find a copy of this song, pay attention to the guitars and the way Johnny Rzeznik and Robby Takac’s voices blend. Also, and credit to FM for this, the lyrics are great.

Anything from Aaron Lewis/Staind
Aaron Lewis can do no wrong. He does shows where he lets the audience just call out songs (as you can hear) and he’ll sing them. He could sing me the alphabet, and I would throw myself at him (I think it’s the “I can still remember just the way you taste” line in “It’s Been A While” that started that for me).

And if him covering Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” — and the following comments — or just the entire video — don’t make you love him, then I don’t believe you have a soul.

“Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” — Nickelback/Kid Rock (originally by Elton John)
Truth be told, I love love LOVE Elton John, but I hate hate HATE his version of this song. I think it’s too ’70s piano-disco, and I honestly just think the lyrics don’t match the music. Put the lyrics into the mouths of Chad Kroeger and Kid Rock, however, and it’s a whole different, and far more appropriate, ball game.

You’ve got current music’s self-proclaimed American Badass and one of the most popular (and most hated, I suppose) arena/sex, drugs and rock n’ roll rock bands singing about bar fights, alcohol and girls. You’ve got the uncontested theme song for hockey fights and boxing/wrestling/UFC without even trying. And, quite honestly, you’ve got a better version of the song than you started with.

(Ignore the freaky video; I don’t know what’s up with it, it was just the first one I found.)

“Possession” — Evans Blue (originally by Sarah McLachlan)
Would you know this song was originally by Sarah McLachlan? Nope — didn’t think so. Once again, you have a song that sounds totally different than the original, and would never have reached the ears of Evans Blue-style music fans had they not done this cover. I don’t know who Tara MacLean (the female voice you hear, according to Wikipedia) is, but her voice fits perfectly, and, I think, the lyrics fit a band like Evans Blue and this style of music more than they fit Sarah McLachlan (it’s about her encounter with a stalker, which is decidedly in realm of topics for the goth-pop-punk-rock category of Evans Blue). Either way, I can listen to this song on repeat for an hour.

“Straight Up” — Halifax (originally by Paula Abdul)
Once again, one of the few Pop Goes whatever releases I can stand. It’s hysterical to hear the song, however, if you really listen to the lyrics, because it’s these punk guys singing lyrics written for an ’80s pop singer. But they do a good job with it.

“Stand By Me” — Incubus (originally by Ben E. King)
Incubus needs to put this song on an album ASAP. “Stand By Me” is what I would consider one of those “classic” songs that you really shouldn’t mess with, for fear of coming up with a product that is just awful and makes everyone hate you (“Incubus? Yeah, they’re that band that butchered that Ben E. King song.” “OMG, how could they?! That songs a CLASSIC!”).

Brandon Boyd, however, is another one of those guys that could sing the alphabet, and I would stand in awe. He keeps the vocals like they should be — really only pulling out all the stops on the “stand by me” lines, just like in the original — and the rest of the band doesn’t try to be overly fancy with the music. It’s a beautiful cover of an already beautiful song.

“Smooth Criminal” — Alien Ant Farm (originally by Michael Jackson)
You can’t hate this song. You just can’t. It’s rocked out to it’s full potential. Plus, there’s a touch of AAF releasing their inner MJ in the high parts of the chorus and the “Ow!”s between verses.

I want to hate Justin Timberlake. With every cell in my body, I want to hate him.

And, believe me, I’ve tried to do it. There’s the shred of pre-teen girl left inside, still caught up in that Backstreet Boys v. N*Sync feud, screaming that she can’t possibly like anything a former N*Sync-er does, because she was so in love with BSB (AJ, who went to rehab! Brian, who I just saw play in the MLB All-Star game! Nick, whose family is pretty fucked up! Kevin, who we really haven’t ever heard from again! Howie, who we all secretly thought was gay!).

Then there’s just the fact that I have some bit of self-respect and swear up and down that, because I like the music I do, and because I will not succumb to cheesy pop sensibilities, I cannot like the music of a man who, at one point, had bleach-blonde curly hair, wore silver costume get-ups, sang into a headset microphone in harmony with four other men, and dated (*gag me*) Britney Spears. And, you know, he can still sing higher than I can.

“No, no, no,” I say, kicking and screaming. “I cannot like this man, or his music, or him. I just cannot!” I protest to everyone that it’s impossible to respect him because he was part of N*Sync, that I hate his music, that he can’t possibly be talented.

But I’m coming clean — Justin Timberlake, as he is now, is IMPOSSIBLE to hate. To be jealous of him is quite possible, and quite easy, but, honestly, if even I cannot find a way to hate him, I’m just not sure it’s doable.

He can sing, he can dance, he can play instruments, and, let’s face it, he’s funny as hell. I can imagine it’s hard to host Saturday Night Live and be funny — the recurring cast of the show isn’t all that funny half the time — so, oh my God, if not a single one of JT’s skits has made you laugh, you have no soul. Have you seen “Immigrant Tale”? I was howling to myself alone in my dorm room. And then there’s the “Homelessville,” “Plasticville,” etc. skits. And don’t even get me started on “Dick in a Box;” JT and Andy Samberg are classic together. Again I say — if you can’t laugh at a guy who can stand there and make fun of himself (“Secretly…he hit it.”), you have no soul. There’s a reason he’s hosted that show so frequently lately. I’m waiting for the day they just make him a regular cast member.

And, all right, his music actually isn’t that bad. Poppy and instant radio hit, yes, but a lot better than most of what’s out there. His voice is quite good (Can YOU hit those notes?!), and ever since the 2007 Grammys, when I realized he could actually play the piano, I’ve been even more impressed by his music. The album Justified was pretty club/pop, but FutureSex/Love…whatever it’s called (it’s a long album title, forgive me) has a funky, almost blues-y vibe to it. Plus, OK, the collaboration with T.I. that’s out right now isn’t half bad. Let me put it this way — if a JT song comes on the radio, I probably won’t change the station. I might even sing. (Stop judging me; I see you.)

I make no promises on liking the former, boy-band Justin Timberlake. (“Like a sweatshop?” “Well, sort of.”) That version — really, quite easy to dislike. If you’re having trouble, refer to the curly hair, silver costume, microphone headset image I KNOW you can pull out of your brain (I also know you probably still know the words to “Tearin’ Up My Heart” — don’t lie to me). I’m pretty sure the teen girl population, circa 1999, was totally insane to like that — something about all those hormones and being too young to drive probably did us in.

But, JT now? Really and truly talented? Good voice? Decent musician and dancer? Funny?

Well, what’s not to love?

(Writer’s note — I’ve been thinking of writing this for quite some time, but I never got around to it. I was looking at Rolling Stone stories about JT today, and I decided I really should write this. These feelings have been around since, approximately, the 2007 Grammys. I won’t deny it any longer.)

If you said that these are the best days of our lives
Other people turn around and laugh at you
If you said that these are the best days of our lives
Other people break into a cold sweat
If you said that these are the best days of their lives
And other people turn around and laugh at you
If you said that these are the best days of our lives”
(Blur)

If you know me, you know that I’m usually the one to get all melodramatic, and my boyfriend/friends are the ones to calm me down. So, last night, having Dave call me in a funk about work/summer being dull/life being boring/etc etc., it was rather disconcerting.

The sayings all tell us that high school is the best time of our lives. No, wait — college is the best four years of your life. No, summer is the best time. It goes on and on and on.

I refuse to believe that I have even experienced the best time in my life yet. Yes, high school, college and “real” summer (i.e., no work, just fun) were all great, but if the best years of my life — of any of our lives — are over by the time we hit our early 20s, then what’s the point?

Dave and Nick, I guess, commiserated last night about how their summer internships really aren’t all they thought they would be, and that if doing what they’re doing is what real work is like — well, they don’t know how they’re going to do it.

It’s not like I haven’t had those moments, too. There was the breakdown in a Garden bathroom when I realized that I just wanted to be out having fun, not working, even if it was working the Stanley Cup Finals. There are the moments now when I think I’m a total failure because I graduated, don’t have a job, and am spending my days laying around my house doing nothing (it’s boring, let me tell you. I definitely have no wish to do this forever). And there are those times when I really, really just want to quit my stupid retail job because I can’t face the thought of sitting around in a mall for another night.

So, yeah, life might not be all fun and games like it was when we were little. But there is no way most adults would tell you, with a straight face, that life after college is worthless. We’re all going to college so we can get a job we like. We’re doing those internships and retail jobs so we realize grunt work sucks, and we don’t want to do it forever. Everything we’re doing and experiencing right now is helping us figure out what we need to do so life after college, until we die (a long, long, long time from now), is the best time of our lives.

Think about it — we’re (OK, the rest of you are) going to graduate college. We’re going to get awesome jobs that we can use our degrees for and that we love. I have a feeling I know people who are going to own their own companies or be really important. We’re going to turn 21, get married, have kids. And, you know what? We’re going to have a damn good time doing it all.

Life is not over at 20. We may not have summers off, and we may have a lot more responsibility, and there may be times we don’t always like what we’re doing and we want to complain. But there will always be friends there to listen to us complain. And there will always be friends there to point out how much fun we still have. That’s what growing up is.

But if growing up really is that bad, why do we all do it? See what I mean?

And, I don’t know about you, but I’m quite thankful that summer, childhood, high school, college, etc. weren’t the best years of my life.

Between the road trips, tough practices and living in the same dorms, the Boston University men’s hockey team forms some strong bonds with each other. You could say they’re like brothers.

Four of this year’s Terriers, however, really are brothers.

Matt and Kevin Gilroy, three years apart in age, are enjoying their first chance to play together in a league, while Victor and Vinny Saponari, also three years apart, have been reunited after two seasons on different teams.

Matt and Kevin Gilroy

“It’s pretty special this year,” said defenseman Matt Gilroy, who is joined for his senior year by his brother Kevin, a freshman forward.

The year is extra special because the two have never played on a team together.

“The last time I played with one of my brothers, I think we were mites,” said Matt, who, in his last year, will get the chance to mentor another one of his siblings.

“It’s been fun, getting to see him go through what I went through, and him asking me for advice and stuff,” he said.

Getting to finally play with his older brother was one of the big reasons Kevin came to BU.

“When [Matt] first got here, it made me really want to come here,” Kevin said. “I had a good possibility of being able to play with him, and I just jumped on the opportunity.”

Knowing what to expect out of practices, workouts, and the coaching staff from talking to Matt gave Kevin an upper hand in his first year. Matt, too, is happy with having a familiar face in the locker room.

“It’s good to have someone there, especially someone you’ve been with your whole life,” he said.

During high school, the brothers played on teams that sometimes opposed each other. Kevin went to Brewster Academy in New Hampshire, then played for the Foxboro Stars and the South Shore Kings of the Eastern Junior Hockey League, while Matt played at St. Mary’s High School in Manhasset, N.Y., and spent time with the EJHL’s Walpole Jr. Stars.

“It was awkward, because you were playing against someone you grew up with,” said Kevin. “You knew exactly [what he was going to do], since we’ve been playing in the backyard since we were two or three years old.”

But now that they’re on the same side of the ice, Matt and Kevin can use that knowledge to their advantage.

“I know where he’s going to go with the puck, so I can anticipate that right now,” Kevin said.

They can also use their knowledge from playing different positions to help each other out.

“He sees what I’m doing wrong, and he gets after me,” said Matt. “It’s different getting after a brother. You can be a little meaner than you can with a regular teammate.”

There’s nothing more than friendly competition, though, and it ends when the uniforms come off.

“Training this summer, we were together every day in the gym and on the rink,” said Matt. “It made it a lot easier to train and get better.”

They’re just enjoying their time together for the year.

“It just makes it 10 times better,” said a grinning Kevin.

Victor and Vinny Saponari

Forward Vinny Saponari, a freshman, has had to play up to his brother Victor’s level since the two were young and playing hockey in the driveway.

“I think that’s one of the things that made me better,” Vinny said, “always trying to keep up with the older brother.”

“He’s right,” said Victor, a sophomore forward. “I’d be a pee-wee, and he’d be a squirt, and he’d play up with us, so he’d have to be playing better than his level, which just made him excel.”

It’s the same reason they both chose to play forward.

“Growing up and playing against each other, we always wanted to play with each other and beat the other guy out,” said Vinny.

The brothers enjoyed the competition from playing together in the same position.

“Seeing him do something a little better than you, you’ve got to step up your game a little bit,” said Victor. “Or if he’s kind of down on something, you can rag on him for it but pick him up and say, ‘Hey, this is what you need to do.’ Since you know, you can help.”

Unlike the Gilroys, the Saponaris are used to playing together. The brothers both attended Culver Military Academy, although they did play on different teams as kids.

“We liked being on the same team, but being on different teams kind of helped both of us in defining our roles as hockey players,” said Victor.

They are not, however, usually on the ice together.

“That would be pretty sweet,” Victor said, but they do have similar styles of play.

“We kind of think similar,” said Vinny.

“It’s kind of the way we were brought up to think the same way, being coached by the same people,” said Victor, elaborating on his brother’s point. “We anticipate the game really well…based on the way we were brought up knowing the game.”

And while he’s had his brother around for most of his career, Vinny’s glad they’re still together for support. He had been looking at BU before Victor chose to attend.

“Once [Victor] decided to go here, it gave me an option to come visit him and really see how it is,” he said. “Me being new here, it’s nice having someone I can talk to if I need something.”

But Victor knows his younger brother doesn’t need too much help.

“[Vinny] could figure things out on his own, and I understand that,” Victor said. “I kind of helped out here and there with some stuff.”

Originally published in the Boston University Terriers Men’s Ice Hockey program for the 2008-2009 season.

Early on a Friday morning, Ashlie Anctil sits in Studio A of WTBU, Boston University’s student-run radio station. It’s 8 o’clock, and most students are still sleeping off Thirsty Thursday hangovers, but Anctil’s black iPod blares the pop-punk whine of Avril Lavigne, the only disruption of the peaceful quiet.

Anctil sits back and waits through a few more songs before taking a break to introduce her show and chat with the few – if any – listeners tuning in at such an early hour. She swivels in her wheeled computer chair, glancing at her surroundings: fliers advertising station programming – “Under the Covers,” “The Rock Block” and “BU in the Morning,” are just a few that stand out of the colorful collage – which line the grey corkboard-like walls. CDs fill the floor-to-ceiling shelves along one wall of the studio – Bob Dylan, My Chemical Romance, The Shins. A small box of old-school, vinyl albums, mostly rap and hip-hop, is strewn on a table nearby.

“You’re listening to WTBU, the Beat of Boston University,” Anctil says into the puffy black microphone as Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” winds down. “You just heard Avril Lavigne, Yellowcard, some new Britney Spears, and John Mayer.”

College radio may look the same as it did 10 years ago – but it doesn’t sound or run the same. Bands of the 1980s and 1990s like Nirvana, 10,000 Maniacs and R.E.M. experienced success on college radio stations before their songs were played on mainstream stations. But with the advent of file-sharing services and websites like MySpace that allow unknown bands to showcase their music without the help of radio waves, college radio stations have been struggling to find their niche.

WTBU has turned to sports and talk shows to combat mainstream radio consolidation and a decline in listenership, what Anne Donohue calls a “disaster for avant-garde music.” The station’s sports programs – Wednesday night’s “Terrier Talk,” Monday and Friday’s “Sports Block,” and BU Terrier game broadcasts – draw listeners from all over the world, often parents and friends of the athletes, via webcasting.

“College radio can go where no one else is going,” because there are fewer restrictions, says Donohue, the station’s faculty advisor. She is also pushing for the foreign language department to begin doing specialty shows and for the station to get an HD stream on real radio where they can play especially good archived material.

The programming switch is of a larger trend in all radio: music stations losing listeners. Gone are the days when fans would wait intently, ear to the speakers, to hear a favorite band’s new tune. The hipsters and music lovers out there don’t need the DJs and station managers anymore.

“[The Internet is] giving fans the opportunity to decide what they want to listen to and be exposed to, rather than leaving that to radio executives,” says Kali Giaritta, singer and founding member of The Ascetic Junkies. “It also gives artists the opportunity to make a name for themselves without a record label.”

However, Giaritta, a BU alum and former WTBU DJ, made sure her band’s CD was sent to WTBU. While she doesn’t buy the hypothesis that a college station can “break” an artist and start his or her career, she thinks they are still important, a “vintage” version of Internet music sites.

“If you think of college radio as more of a big music club where kids go in and explore new music and share it when they find something good,” Giaritta says, “then I think any artists with enough talent has an opportunity to make a name for themselves in an area where that ‘music club’ loves them enough to share them with friends.”

Some college radio stations, however, have made it hard for new acts to get airtime, as they are heavily controlled by the whims of programming directors whose ears may not find the acoustic scream-o sounds of some new band out of East Nowhere appealing.

“We play it if we like it,” says the website for WERS, Emerson College’s radio station. “Calling our DJs…will not get it played.”

The station has a weekly two-hour show dedicated to new music and indie artists, but in its submission guidelines, the station’s site warns that they “are under no obligation” to even listen to all of the CDs they receive.

KFJC, the radio station of Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, Calif., on the other hand, listens to all submissions – but soon that may not matter. A movement is afoot to turn the station into a National Public Radio training station to increase student interest and justify the cost of remodeling the studio. In the face of declining enrollment, the college’s Board of Trustees thinks a more professional program could help draw students.

“On a cost per student basis, the station serves fewer students and produces less enrollment and graduates than [other] programs,” says station supervisor Doc Pelzel. The two-year college is losing students to four-year communications programs.

It’s the slow death of the old-style college station, the one where most things mainstream were shunned in favor of the new, the unheard – the soon-to-be cool. KFJC currently markets itself as “homebrewed freeform radio fortified weekly with new sound and forgotten music injections,” according to the station website, whose listeners are those “who love to say to themselves: ‘What the Hell did I just hear?’”

But Anctil says she sees a benefit to the plan for KFJC. All college radio stations give aspiring young voices a chance to get on-air experience, but a more professional program, especially one backed by an NPR station, would make that experience worth even more.

“[College radio] is a crash-course in real life,” Anctil says. “You come into the studio, [and] you put it all together.”

Donohue agrees, saying, “College radio should be a learning place. You should be able to make mistakes.”

But much like the musicians hoping to make it onto the airwaves, the DJs of college radio are without a safety net: they’re free to play what they want, but they are also open to criticism and definitely not guaranteed any listeners or callers making requests. In that respect, it’s like a real radio gig.

“You’re on your own,” says Anctil as she starts another set, led this time by a song from the Aladdin soundtrack (the self-professed “Disney addict” always includes a healthy dose of Mickey music in her shows), the track’s two voices singing about new horizons and a totally explorable world.

Bet they weren’t thinking about trying to survive on the college radio scene.

It’s been a while since I’ve put anything in here — sorry for the absence. I’m slowly updating/deleting/cleaning up my online things, and this is now my only blog. In going through files on my computer from my last year of school, I found a few writing samples I wanted to post. I promise the updates will come more swiftly soon. But, let’s face it, looking for a job just isn’t that interesting.

Without further ado, piece #1: A column I wrote for a sportsj class I took fall semester. Also, please note the irony of the picture I just randomly chose off Google Images.

The team bursts out of the locker room hallway and onto the ice for pre-game warm-ups. Fans watch with rapt attention as the opening presentation on the scoreboard high above center ice shows highlights of teams past and present. An elated player shouts and pumps his fist in the air as his slapshot finds its way just past the goaltender’s glove and into the back of the net.

And each time, the same thing fills the arena air: cheering and clapping from the crowd, yes – but, also, music.

Whether it’s on your iPod, in a concert hall, or in a sports arena, music inspires you. It’s meant to make you feel a certain way, evoke emotion. Hockey music should pump you up, get you amped for what’s happening – make you, the people munching popcorn in the stands, feel like them, the ones padded up on the bench.

Fortunately, popular music has given hockey fans some great background noise. There have been a lot of songs played in arenas across the United States and Canada, but I, like every hockey fan, have a few favorites.

The Warm-Ups Song: Linkin Park, “Bleed It Out”
“Here we go for the hundredth time,” sings Chester Bennington at the beginning of this song. Sometimes, each night does feel like the hundredth time of those pre-game warm-ups, both from the player’s perspective and the fan’s perspective. Hearing the same pre-game music can drive you nuts pretty fast, but this is one I’ll never get sick of. I loved this song and thought it would be an awesome hockey song since I first heard it. It slowly works its way from a slower start to a frenzied second verse, just begging to be clapped along to. And after a long road-game stretch or the summer hiatus, the familiar, winding guitar at the beginning brings a smile to your face: hockey’s back.

The Opening Ceremonies Song: Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight”
The New York Rangers used this as their opening song for a season, and a friend and avid Rangers fan claims it was widely discussed: while a few liked it, most thought the song was too slow and didn’t fit the mood. I could see both sides of the coin, until the Boston Bruins used the song for their opening during a couple of playoff games in the 2007-2008 season. Staring up at the Jumbotron in the dark arena, hearing the heavy guitars and the downright eerie lyrics, you really felt like they’d “been waiting for this moment for all [their lives].” And the quick drum solo, coupled with some strobe lights and particularly well-chosen highlights of hard hits? “Oh, Lord.”

The Goal Song: Blur, “Song 2”
When you grow up a Buffalo Sabres fan, this one is a given. Through the ‘90s, the brit-pop “Woo-hoo!” chorus burst out of the speakers in HSBC Arena – or the soon-to-be-demolished Aud, before the new arena was built – as players like Pat LaFontaine and Rob Ray lit up the red light behind the opposing team’s goal and got fans singing along. Although it’s been replaced by fog horns, the song still makes an appearance every so often, giving the building an old-time feel, even when so much of the game has changed. Part of the attachment to this song is the memories, but the pounding guitars and the slower verses that wind up into that great chorus are what get it on this list. Some teams have recently used a techno remix of the song, but it’s not the same. This is a hockey game, guys, not a rave.

The Fight Song: Nickelback, “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting”
This song was made to be a Saturday-night boxing/wrestling match theme. But when the gloves get dropped during a hockey game, center ice can sometimes turn into a boxing ring, so why not give in an appropriate soundtrack? You can thank Elton John for the “let’s get crazy” lyrics, but the recent remake by Nickelback gives the song the guitar-rock edge it was meant to have. The beginning of the chorus – “Don’t give us none of your aggravation/We’ve had it with your discipline” – is both an early warning to opposing agitators and a middle finger to the referees, making no excuses for when the scene on the ice becomes more WWE than NHL.

The Post-Win Locker Room Celebration Song: Lupe Fiasco, “Superstar”
The soft R&B chorus, mixed with Lupe Fiasco’s raps, makes listeners feel like superstars. Picture cameras flashing as the buzzer sounds on a huge win, followed by a post-game champagne celebration in the locker room, and you can just hear this song in the background. During the 2007-2008 season, I got used to seeing the same scene when walking into the Boston Bruins locker room after a win: the media, TV cameras and all, enter the black-and-gold themed room to see the players, wearing satisfied grins, perched under their nametags, ready to address the awaiting public. “Have no fear/The camera’s here,” indeed.