Music snob hopes to open her mind

Keely Shannon, Editor-in-Chief

Maybe it’s because I grew up listening to my dad’s Creedence Clearwater Revival records, or maybe it was the sight of one too many 18-year-old Abercrombie-clad boys banging to Nickelback in their Grand Am’s. But I’ve come to the conclusion that I am indeed a Type 1 Music Snob.

According to the Urban Dictionary, “an especially irritating breed of tool, the music snob is a self-described authority on what is or is not “good” music. The music snob is quick to write off your taste in music, and often spout proudly a large number of “better” unknown and/or less “commercial” bands that if you had as good of taste as they did, you would already know about and love.”

Growing up, I thought something was wrong with people who liked the tunes I dubbed “horrible ‘music’” Maybe their brain was wired differently? Or maybe they were hearing on a different frequency than I?

But then I learned there’s nothing wrong with these listeners of “horrible ‘music’.”  It’s me. I self-diagnosed myself as a Type 1 Music Snob.

I’m calling it Type 1 because I don’t show all the signs of a true music snob. (I listen to music from this decade, I comb my hair and I won’t pull the headphones out of a complete stranger’s ears to convince them Girl Talk isn’t real music). I’m much more introverted in my music snobbiness.

Instead, I’ll switch the station at the end of a song ever so stealthily, hoping you don’t notice. I will lend you my extra set of headphones when you turn Pandora to the Kelly Clarkson station in a crowded computer lab.

And if, God forbid, you begin singing the lyrics to Kesha’s Tik Tok, I may introduce you to a female vocalist who doesn’t sound like a parody every time she opens her mouth.

Although I only have a mild case of music snobbery, I’m always on the verge of telling you why Nickelback would look better with my foot in their mouth.

So I ask one of two things from you, my fellow listeners of music. Either 1. Avoid  talking music with me. My snobbery is induced by other like minded music snobs.

Or 2. Force your music upon me. C’mon, I need it. Slap some earbuds on me and explain why I should like  “your music.” Open my mind to the music you know and love.

Instead of getting offended when I poke fun of the Lady Gaga you’re listening to, give me a dose of my own medicine and tell me the Sean Hayes spilling from my car sounds like a girl.

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