Heart and Mind

If it's Too Loud, You're Too Logical

When you go to a wedding—or any similarly style event at a catering hall—what's the number one thing that everyone seems to lament? It's not the decor. It's not the food. (Even people who like to act like sophisticates and complain about the meals usually eat it and enjoy to some extent.)

When you ask people for their feedback, they usually will universally say that it was a nice evening, but it would have been nice if the music wasn't so f***ing loud! (Although, they express those sentiments without the profanity, usually.) And it's a fact: parties—particularly indoor parties—that are catered by DJs tend to be excessively loud. Too loud.

And what is "too loud?" Well, at a wedding, that's easy, and it can be described without mentioning decibels: too loud to comfortably socialize.

Now at this point, young people (some of them), hipsters, wannabe hipsters, and old people who like to pretend or believe they're young and relevant to youthful culture will undoubtedly spout off a half-witted and unoriginal cliché: "If it's too loud, you're too old!"

That, as we know, is the well-worn expression, despite the title of this essay. If it's too loud, I'm too old. Oh, yeah, that's a good one. Gee, I'm really put in my place with that original piece of profundity.

Let me set the record straight. I'm no stranger to loud environments. I've spent most of the last twenty-two years playing in bands. Bands are f***ing loud. And my primary instrument is (are?) drums. When you're sitting inches behind a cracking snare drum, under cymbals, and in front of a line of guitar amps, you're sitting in the loudest seat in the house. Considerably louder than the weddings that I am talking about. Those wedding volumes are annoying, but they don't make your ears ring in self-defense, a sign of damage being done. Thankfully, when I was 18 or so, I became a smart and diligent proponent of the use of hearing protection while playing music (ear plugs, filters, or mufflers) and have worn them by far more often than not over the years. It's actually pretty fun to not have tinnitus or compromised hearing after all these years. (I also wear hearing protection when I use power tools and lawn equipment, and when I attend concerts.)

Now, often people believe that the ability to withstand loud volumes somehow makes them tough or cool. "Oh, I can take it." Great. Would you like a medal for that? I hate to break the news to these people, but the ability to "withstand" loud volumes is not a skill and it's not admirable, and, more importantly, my choice to protect my hearing has zero to do with the fact that I "can't handle it." I can survive it just fine, just like you. I just choose to protect my hearing more often than not when it's a smart decision.

But I digress. We were talking about wedding music, weren't we? The band tangent, though, does nicely segue into a point about weddings with bands. I'm not talking about those as much here. I'm mostly annoyed by loud DJs. They're usually even louder than the bands at weddings, and the bands have more of an excuse to be loud. There is a natural dynamic to certain instruments that have a minimum volume—drums, to name one obvious example, are still relatively loud, even if you hit them conservatively—and the sound output can't always be controlled entirely through a knob. But DJs feel the need to exert themselves and show off their ability to dominate the room.

Again, at a wedding, it's not like your ears get damaged by the music—it's admittedly not that loud. But that's not the point. The point is that it's stupid to not be able to comfortably socialize during a wedding. They'll turn it down during dinner, but it's blasting for the other 4 hours of the event.

And you know exactly what I'm talking about. You have to lean into people and shout to try to make a point, possibly breathing all over them and spewing mushy pieces of the appetizer quiches out of your mouth. Or, how many times has it happened that someone is shouting something at you, and you have no clue what they're saying, so, after asking them to repeat themselves twice, you begin to feel foolish and you just laugh and nod in agreement. You play along, sort of like what people do when they don't get a joke but don't want to come across as slow-witted.

And here's the kicker. It's not even like I don't enjoy a nice flood of music. I have been known to blast my music at times nice and loud in my car, house, or ear buds. But that's usually when I am by myself and the entire purpose of my listening is to be having a "musical experience." It's time and place, people! When I'm at a wedding and trying to have a conversation with my 68-year-old aunt, that's not when I'm trying to have the music get me off in an aural wonderland, you know? It should simply be an enjoyable background soundtrack.

Of course, one could ague that the music is first and foremost for the people who are on the dance floor, and I would say that is an appropriate time to be getting your musical rocks off as you flop around that rectangular wooden floor in thrilling reaction to the groove and melody. So the dancers may want it loud. But lets be real. Even at the energetic zenith of the evening, towards the end when the DJ has worked the crowd up into a festive frenzy through a stream of verbal propaganda and encouragement and you've got the whole floor packed to the hilt and your mother is out there and freaking out to "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights," the vast numbers of dancers out there crowding the floor still doesn't negate the fact that easily more than half the people in attendance are still NOT out there dancing. It may look like the whole place is out there dancing, but, trust me, they're not.

Most people are still back at their tables, wishing someone would turn the music down.

Hey, I love it loud. I admit it. Loud and proud can be really good. Just not when I'm trying to have a conversation. It's only logical.

posted by Steve @ 9:55 AM