You’re more than likely sick of hearing all the welcoming salutations, the endless administrative emails, the constant advice about academic choices, new opportunities, et cetera, so let’s get down to it: You’re in college. You’re gonna hear a boatload of great new music. And it could very well change your life just as much as that human evolution course everyone’s already talking about.

Don’t think that such a claim is an exaggeration, or that music (and the arts in general) isn’t an integral part of the college experience. Hopefully, before your time at Washington University is up, you’ll stay up having late-night dorm conversations about the Pixies and the latest Wes Anderson film, in addition to Shakespeare and the existence of God. You’ll have the time of your life at WILD, lose your mind at concerts, and listen to a CD that makes you cry. “I heard a record and it opened my eyes,” goes a song by the band Pretty Girls Make Graves.

That’s my story, at least. I came to school with what I thought was a pretty decent CD collection; I was soon proved very, very wrong. All it took was a floormate on Koenig 1 with a copy of Neutral Milk Hotel’s “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” to show me what music could be. (My eternal thanks, Rischall.)

Pretty soon I was trading with everyone-my roommate had the ska and dub, and my fellow writers at Cadenza turned me on to more good sounds than I could name in one sitting. And let’s not forget Direct Connect, or The Downloading Server That Must Not Be Named. It’s long since been dismantled, but before it went under I probably burnt 200 albums or more (hello, RIAA!). DC may be no more, but seek and ye shall find a network.

Unfortunately, the musical opportunities at Wash. U. aren’t always fully utilized. Despite the smart crowds that assemble at Graham Chapel for freshman convocation every year, “musical adventurousness” is rarely a high priority compared to pre-med courses and discovering Frat Row. It’s hard for an old codger like me not to get all reactionary, but more and more it seems music appreciation is becoming music consumption, especially with the rise of the iPod.

Rather than buying the new Coldplay or Common or Sufjan Stevens record, students are buying the singles on iTunes and adding them to their workout or party mixes. Far from it that I should demand for everyone to become a nerdy record collector (although you can email [email protected] for tips on where to get good vinyl), but good Lord, people, look at all the options you have:

-Read Cadenza for the latest music news, reviews, and previews. Like what you’ve been listening to lately? Write a CD review for the paper.

-Listen to Wash U’s own KWUR 90.3 on your FM dial or streaming live at www.kwur.wustl.edu. The little station that could, KWUR has won awards for “Best Radio Station” from The Riverfront Times despite its criminally tiny reception radius.

-Attend concerts at the Gargoyle, the little dungeon-esque venue in the basement of Mallinkrodt. Shows are usually free for students, and past acts have included Broken Social Scene, DJ Scratch from the Roots, Q and not U, and the Wrens.

-Hit up the Delmar Loop, where you’ll find Vintage Vinyl, one of America’s top 10 record stores, according to Rolling Stone, along with Streetside Records, the Pageant Theater and plenty of smaller venues, like Cicero’s and the Red Sea.

-Start up a band of your own. The members of Wash. U.’s last successful group, the Hatch, have all graduated, so the title of “campus band” is up for grabs. Play your cards right and you could open for the act at WILD.

And that’s just the tip of the ol’ iceberg. If the campus scene is not to your liking, there’s always stuff going on at clubs like the Creepy Crawl and Mississippi Nights. The music is out there; all you have to do is reach out and grab it by the lapels (or the torn t-shirt or spandex bodysuit, as the case may be).

Enjoy your freshman year.

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“Sonic Reduction” is a weekly music column written by former Cadenza editor Matt Simonton. Despite its academic-sounding flair, its name comes from the Dead Boys’ punk classic “Sonic Reducer.”

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