The house lights of Mr. Small’s Theatre & Funhouse come on and I notice a couple of facts: First, Mr. Small’s does not seem ventilated enough for a smoking venue; second, the Arctic Monkeys are fantastic; and finally, this crowd is terrible. Maybe it was the $30 ticket price, but almost everyone seemed over 40 and more concerned about the babysitter than the music. The crowd that night, from the bar to the stage, never moved. So where was the young and gunning college crowd? Where were the people known for kicking up musical storms?

Sadly, everyone was just hanging around campus. Chalk it up to price and distance, but no one was making their way out to Millvale. Even worse, most of the people I talked to thought Pittsburgh just didn’t have a very good music scene. Well, Pittsburgh may not be New York, but we certainly get good music.
The Arctic Monkeys were one of the biggest bands to tour Europe back in 2006. They played chart-topping hits at world- famous venues. Why they bothered to come to Pittsburgh I don’t know. I just felt lucky. When the tickets were only $30, I was grateful. Those tickets were nowhere near the $90 I’d be paying for the Ben Folds concert the next day.
I flash back to all of this because once again, the house lights are coming on and once again the crowd is older. I can appreciate their taste in music now, but the lack of enthusiasm is a thorough buzz kill. I need a younger crowd and a girl I can dance with.
-Stephen Epple

Last Wednesday, rock journalist Chuck Klosterman lectured on the media’s influence on how we, as individuals, perceive reality. The topic itself was broad, so even Klosterman had trouble getting to his point. Still, Klosterman has proven himself to be a powerful commentator on popular culture, and his point was probably all the more poignant in its ambiguity.
No one knows how media (especially new media) is affecting our reality. Film and television are assailing us with information at 24 frames per second. Computer multimedia and video games are even faster. Our brains struggle to store, much less interpret, this massive amount of information.
When Klosterman was in high school, he had six cassette tapes of music that amounted to roughly 70 songs. Looking at my iTunes library, I have 5000 songs just on this computer. Klosterman struggled to interpret half of his music library. I’ll be lucky if I fully interpret 1 percent of mine. Right now, I’m telling myself I can generalize — I don’t need to know every detail of every song. But I’m struck by the fact that I hardly know anything about my music other than that I like the sound.
I wanted Klosterman to make me feel better, to tell me good music was still good music. I took down a poster for his lecture and got in line to have it signed. I’m going to ask him if he likes a band called The National. If he does, somehow I won’t be bothered. The media can keep using me as it pleases.
He signs my paper, and I don’t ask anything. The man just spent the last hour telling me the media has the wrong idea. People like Britney Spears are different in person compared to on television. Even Klosterman is putting on a show. Why would I ever want to ask him if he likes The National?
Chuck Klosterman, I have been thoroughly impressed.
-Stephen Epple

Let’s face it, folks: We’ve been spoiled. In contrast to the last couple of years, we’ve been granted the blessing of fall this year. Not just autumn, but an autumn that’s felt more like summer. The leaves have been holding out for months and the grass is still green. Never before has my resplendent supply of T-shirts lasted me so long. But our time of Indian summer is winding down, and I have a feeling that it might make this winter’s transition even rougher.
Now, to put things in perspective, I will remind you that Pittsburgh actually has a temperate climate. Sure, our winter feels like the worst thing in the world — long and wet and lonely. My friend Ben, however, spent last year in Iceland, and you’d better believe things are a lot rougher there. In a country riddled with depression (that’s personal and economic depression), it’s hard to keep a level head during the eternal winter season.
So what do they do? Well, in addition to eating various kinds of animal meat you’ve never heard of (and probably don’t want to), residents sometimes get together for a good ol’-fashioned sing-along. Using simple acoustic instrumentation, these gatherings are informal and usually just a way of warming up the cold and windy winter nights — a little whiskey, a little song, what more could you need?
On Dec. 4, the sing-along returns to the winter season, but this time as an interactive trans-city experience. Ben will be hosting a group in Cleveland, Ohio that will be in live video/audio communication with a group in Pittsburgh to be hosted at the Waffle Shop. The cities will switch leading songs by the likes of R. Kelly, Beck, Dolly Parton, and more. It’s a modern twist on an old-fashioned winter remedy. We may not be in Iceland, nor yet in the heart of our worst months, but it can’t hurt to start a new routine in curing the winter blues.
-M. Callen