The Breeds of Music Fans Part II
Sort of like Pokemon Silver/Gold
written by Nick on February 14th, 2006

The Breeds of Music Fans pt. 1

About two years ago I stood before you and openly mocked several groups of people based on the various types of music they listen to. Since then my experiences in life have left me older, wiser, and with a greater sense of appreciation for individuality and the pride people take in the image they resonate. Where I used to see whiny, sniveling white kids in full body trench coats saturated with chains and pockets I now see beautiful people who embody the spirit of our founding fathers. Hey, is that kid over there wearing a Blink 182 t-shirt?

(complete relapse)

As much as I'd love to write an article about how cool everyone is in their own way, I find it a lot more profitable to take the offensive and view everyone besides myself as one-dimensionally as possible. I've found that the true key to happiness is a false sense of superiority and the knack to convince others of this at all times. Who's happier than the best?

Classifying More Breeds of Music Fans

Country Rednecks

Favorite Bands: Jack Ingram, Rascal Flatts , Alabama .

Bumper stickers posers have on their pickups: Tim McGraw, Trace Adkins, Brooks and/or Dunn.

You can find them: At pretty much any anti-gay rally in the United States .

At Hot Topic they buy: YEEEEEE HAAAAAAAAW! Cowboys n' shit!

Nick's Notes: I hate country so much that if people tell me they like country music they drop three or four pegs, depending on whether they're good looking or not. My hate for country was always mild until College Gameday started pumping that “We comin' to ya citay, gonna ride around on horses and eat baked beans out of a half-opened can” bullshit. This combined with my relocating to a southern state brewed a hatred for country so deep and powerful that should I hear anything resembling country I get kind of irritated. Even at parties and stuff. I've really got to learn how to control my temper.

Country music lovers seem to flock to the South. Who can blame them? They've got everything they want here: Republicans, intolerance, and a plethora of guns. I'm half surprised that country music hasn't developed into whole tracks of constant gunfire looping over "South Will Rise Again".

The real distinguishable trait that all country music fans share is their superiority complex that is based on absolutely nothing. The confederate flag is a symbol of slavery, drunken rebellion, and most importantly defeat. The confederate troops are 0-1.

Whenever a southerner calls me a carpetbagger or a yankee (ooo that's the worst one) I respond with “Scoooore boooaard”.

Screamo Kids

Favorite Bands: Hawthorne Heights, Underoath, Senses Fail.

Patches Posers have on their backpacks: Who the fuck would pose as a screamo kid?

You can find them: Pretty much anywhere. That's what's so scary about this breed of music fan; that they somehow have managed to fully function within society without being cast to the gutter. Were it not for the screamo's inability to stop singing in public places and distinct tendency to get multiple eyebrow and lip piercings they would be virtually imperceptible.

At Hot Topic they buy: Wallets that run a chain from their back pocket to a belt loop, piercings, bracelets with combinations of hearts and spikes on them, because you know I love you baby I'm infatuated and RAR I'M A TOUGH BADASS it's okay it's okay I love you sweetie love love love BWRAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR I JUST BUSTED A PORCELAIN LAMP OVER MY HEAD.

Nick's Notes: Screamo music is less than complicated. The lyrics to all of the songs map out the same scenario:

The singer met a girl a long time ago. He describes her clothing and whether or not she smiled at him.

He makes a series of analogies between himself and the girl.

Surprise! She has a boyfriend/hates you!

Where the respectable thing to do would entail leaving the girl alone and finding partnership elsewhere (unheard of!) the singer instead does one of the following:

1.) Cuts his wrists and blacks his eyes

2.) Watches the girl and her boyfriend mess around from within her closet, wishing to be both the boyfriend and the dynamic forces from within her pants.

3.) (inaudible, high-pitched screaming)

The singer eventually kills himself in sorrow, despite his being present to retell the story. Stick to your act, man. You're not going to stir much pathos for your dead character when you won't even man up and kill yourself.

Now I know I'm making fun of the actual music more than the person who listens to it, but this is only because the music is bad enough to be these people's most flawed attribute. Screamo is the only type of music that you could read the lyrics to first, then listen to the song and say “This is definitely not the same song.” While the lyrics depict the authors to be quivering clitoral hoods they play on a level similar to Mudvayne and Slipknot. Hey, why haven't I made fun of Mudvayne and Slipknot yet?

Hardcorers (Did you mean hardcovers?)

Favorite Bands: Slayer, Slipknot, Mudvayne

Patches posers have on their backpacks: Disturbed, Staind, (I don't know, what's the step below Staind? Anyone?)

You can find them: At motorcycle conventions or anything else of the like. It's important that whatever hardcorers are around that it not give the smallest implication that they are, in fact, not hardcore.

At Hot Topic they buy: Well, hardcore shit. Large spiked collars, ear gauges, and shirts that say “Hardcoremothafuckaaaaa” are top sellers.

Nick's Notes: Unlike their Screamo brethren of the north, some hardcorers are actually tough guys. I mean that in the sense that if a 250 lb. hardcorer slaps an ice cream cone out of your hand, let it fly. Of course if a 250 lb. Screamo fan looked at you the wrong way I'd say you'd be pretty safe hurling rocks at him until he cries about it.

The hardcorer will most often times be the aggressor in such altercations you find yourself in. What's more hardcore than starting a bunch of fights? Certainly not learning how to play the guitar or sing.

Pot First Music Second

Favorite Bands: Bob Marley, Dave Mathews Band, OAR

Patches hippies have on their hippie bags: Pot leaves, tie dyed fungus, anti-Bush one-liners.

You can find them: Butchering guitar chords on most any open field of grass.

At the delicatessen they buy: Herbal cheeses and soy-based meatloaf. Well, I guess you'd just call it a loaf. (Soyloaf?)

Nick's Notes: The most non-aggressive of all music fans. This is due in large part to the crippling side effects of marijuana usage. Apathy, lethargy, and a dwindling sense of local awareness leave this poor group with the defense mechanisms of an unframed sheet of glass.

Lucky for these guys most of society has found their lack of hostility cute and admirable, so most everyone tries to hang out with these guys. They're nice enough people, too. They don't care who you are as long as you don't mind them cranking blunts and Sublime.

Being in this category does have its drawbacks, though, as any concert you go seems like the first, and then slowly fades into a forgotten past with the rest. I mean, I'm in no way knocking the use of pot, but it just doesn't seem like that good of idea for anything you'd like to have some recollection of someday. Why pay $80+ for a DMB ticket when you'd probably have the same exact experience sitting in your garage humming “Crash Into Me” to yourself?

R&B Mamas

Favorite Bands: Beyonce Knowles, 3LW, TLC

Buddy icons pigeons have on AIM:

You can find them: Walking down the street talking on a hands-free cell phone so they can illustrate every word they're saying with an open palm and an extended index finger.

At Hot Topic they buy: Directions to get the hell out of Hot Topic.

Nick's Notes: As much as I've been around this group of music fan I just can't seem to figure them out. It's probably no coincidence that a powerful majority of the members in this group are female, though. I don't want to say I'm bad with the women, but the last time I asked a girl out on a date I stuttered so much that she laid me on my back and shoved my wallet into my mouth.

This group of fans has it all figured out, though. The songs are all about self-empowerment and the will to succeed without a counterpart. If a woman's boyfriend cheats on her, beats her, and throws her to the street, there's a song for that. If her boss fires her and sleeps with her boyfriend, there's a song for that. It remains unconfirmed, but I'm sure there's a song about all the boyfriends who screwed things up congregating atop a massive pyre the detonator to which is owned by the singer. This is the kind of music men need to develop. Where men have emo singers bellyaching about how much their heart hurts women have strong role models that demand the finer things in life from their men such as jewelry, cell phones, and orgasms. Not only do they expect their men to meet these qualifications, but the men must remain fully aware that in no way, shape, or form do these women need them. They are independent women and will throw their hands up in the air whenever they feel like it, and I suggest you not try to stop them.

Loungers

Favorite Bands: Pat Matheny Group, Omar Sosa, Charlie Parker.

Drinks these people think are good: Lattes, Zima, curdled milk served in an unwashed George Foreman Lean Mean Grilling Machine grease trap.

You can find them: Coffee shops, jazz lounges, and pretty much anywhere else you're not allowed to talk or have fun (The library? Court?).

At Hot Topic they buy: Silk shirts that resemble bowler tees.

Nick's Notes: A dying breed, the lounge lizards scrounge for social acceptance in all the wrong places. The coffee shop boom in 2003 was derailed when caffeine was replaced by the nation's newest fad; better drugs. Though their predecessors would consume heroin more regularly than bread, these new jazz fans seem to shy away from anything not found in the food pyramid.

The lounge lizards differ from the other music fans in that they really aren't identified by their taste in music. They may be more likely to be labeled by their occupation or by the fact that they married someone of a different race. All excuses aside, they are labeled nonetheless and that's all I really care about, people.