Message to the social elite: Be kind to posers.

There are pretentious people in this world. These people – the social elite, if you will – bask in their own glory, secure in the fact that they know what is hip and trendy. Whether this means that they know music, fashion, art or culture, some see themselves as the be-all-end-all in pop culture. And for those of us who might not be immersed in any one scene and don’t have someone to tell us what bands to check out or what the new style is, finding out on our own can be like skinny dipping with sharks.

A week ago I picked up the latest edition of Spin, a music magazine, hoping to read its reviews on upcoming albums. What I found was a mess of band names and comparisons mixed into a style of writing that would make a reader feel incompetent for not knowing the bands mentioned in the reviews.

As I continued to thumb through the magazine I kept wondering: How am I supposed to know if the album is any good if the band comparisons mean nothing to me?

If I wanted to buy the new “Emo Hotel” CD, how am I supposed to know who Old Muck Terrahawk or Turvey Trepidation are? As far as I’m concerned, both bands probably sold around 10 albums to their circle of friends and maybe one of those friends happened to write reviews.

My point is, no matter how great these bands are, or how likely it is that they sound like the band that is being reviewed, why would readers care if they are left scratching their head? I certainly didn’t and decided to look at the review for an A through F ranking.

After I finished the magazine, I asked myself, “Am I poser or is Spin for scenesters?” Of course I’m not going to rat myself out like a certain columnist did on Tuesday (Counting Crows) but I will say that I’ve had some hard times coming to grips with what is good music, what is bad music, what is stylish and what is plain ugly. (Yes, call me a metrosexual if you feel the need.)

What did I decide? I decided Spin was for scenesters. Then I decided that scenesters had to learn how to be a scenester somewhere. It’s not like someone wakes up in the morning, brushes their teeth, accidentally slips in the bathroom and magically has the lyrics of every band memorized. (Trust me. I’ve tried and all I came up with was the designs for a flux capacitor.)

This means that every time someone starts complaining about a poser who is just starting to get into any scene, they are making fun of themselves from years ago. I know that often times people look back on the things they’ve done and smack themselves in the head for being naive. If I knew at least a quarter of what I do now I’d be graduating on time and not closing in on super-senior status. However, I don’t think this reasoning works with most scenesters. I imagine they see themselves as “with it” in the past, “cool in the now” and “arbiter of cool” in the future.

Admittedly, there are friendly scenesters willing to tell people it’s OK not to know the side project of the basset for “Concubine Aces” and there are posers who are just following the latest trend (popped collars should never have come back in style). But for the posers who are looking up to people who write reviews for Spin and who one day will be part of the in crowd, remember what it was like being told your favorite band is made up of hacks. As for scenesters, and you know who you are, making fun of the girl wearing six belts over a green miniskirt with jeans is perfectly acceptable, but remember – at one point you listened to Vanilla Ice and wore tapered jeans.

David J. Cross is a senior in journalism and made up most of the names of bands in this column. Contact him at [email protected].