Well, apparently Spring Fling hasn't been canceled yet, and just this weekend Concert Board announced the line−up. The rumors were true; The Roots are coming to Tufts. Oh greaaaat …
For those of you who didn't quite catch it, that was sarcasm. Not that I specifically have anything against The Roots. I can't really form much opinion, seeing as the only song of theirs I know came out when I was 13 ("The Seed 2.0"). In my fourth year, however, I've come to a realization. The band selection is basically insignificant. In the words of esteemed musical critic Jeremy Grey (aka Vince Vaughan in "Wedding Crashers"), "It's a great band. It's a bad band. Who gives a sh−−? It's like pizza, baby. It's good no matter what."
Through the multiple Spring Flings I've attended now, I remember exactly two songs: the 30 seconds of "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" that the Dropkick Murphys graced us with in 2008 and Ludacris' "Area Codes" in 2009. And why exactly do I remember only two songs? Well first off, simply walking in a straight line generally requires about 80 percent of my focus during Spring Fling, but more importantly, no one is really listening to the music. It's sunny and warm, all of your friends are gathered in Bacow's backyard and everyone is slammered. Further, in years past, seniors could bring beers into the event, and people drank casually inside. Now, with the ban on alcohol on−site, everyone shows up blacked out. But don't get me started on Tufts' policies.
Spring Fling is a great event. It's probably my favorite event of the year, but it would be just as terrific if Michelle Deery, my baby−sitter when I was 5, came out and put on Raffi's Greatest Hits. Actually, thinking about it, that may even be better. Jamming out to "Baby Beluga"? I think yes.
The musical merits of our Spring Fling bands don't matter. RJD2, the secondary attraction, is actually real dope. It's some of the tightest electro−beats this side of Ultrafest. But there's a major problem with the selection. No one ever makes it to the event until the headliner. Tough day, RJ.
And then there are the Tufts bands playing the thankless transitions between sets and being generally ignored by every person in attendance. This year, the American Symphony of Seoul is taking the stage. And while I was a bit too hungover to make it down to the Battle of the Bands on Saturday, I did look them up online and I like what they're doing. A little funk on Spring Fling. I've been preaching that what we really need is George Clinton and P−Funk. Too bad we missed the boat on James Brown (R.I.P). A goofy funk or soul band would be perfect. Go listen to "Get On Up" right now and tell me you don't get all warm and bubbly. Now add a bottle of André. That's my idea of a party.
Instead, this year we have The Roots coming to the Hill. And the general reaction I've heard is, "The Who?" — and not as in Pete Townshend and the cast of "Tommy." People don't really know The Roots, and that's fine. Previous years' attempts to drum up excitement with big names have generally fallen flat. Dropkicks right after "The Departed," The Decemberists, OK Go, even Ludacris, none were particularly exciting the day of.
So how will The Roots grade out this year? They'll make some noise, everyone will get drunk, and no one will really listen.
Sounds like a great Spring Fling.
