by Addie Heffernan '30 on September 24, 2026

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A&E - Music

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In 2026, it would not be outrageous to say that Taylor Swift is universally known. Regardless of  your opinion on her or her music as a whole, her songs are topping charts and breaking records left and right. Her 2023–2024 Eras Tour was a global phenomenon that brought together millions of fans around the world for three hours of friendship bracelets, glittery outfits, and songs old and new. This piece focuses on one song in particular, which was released in 2010 on her third record, entitled Speak Now, a completely self-written album that blended country and pop with some emphasis on rock as well. This album has been my favorite of hers since it was released, and “Long Live,” the fourteenth track and finale of the standard version of the record, is a big reason why. While the lyrics of this song may not be as intricate as some of her work on The Tortured Poets Department or folklore, “Long Live” has always held a special place in my heart and remains my favorite of her songs. Swift wrote this song while on her Fearless Tour, and in the many years since, it has remained a love letter to her band and the fans who have stood by her from the very start. It is a song of celebration for what has been achieved and a thank you in the possibility of goodbye, a theme that has resonated with me and many fans. The song is still quite popular among Swift’s fanbase. 

“Long Live” is filled with anthemic, triumphant lyrics like “Cause for a moment / a band of  thieves / in ripped-up jeans / got to rule the world” and “Bring on all the pretenders / I’m not afraid.” These lyrics emphasize the joy that Swift felt during her earliest tour performing alongside her fellow musicians and sharing her art. The bridge is by far the most bittersweet part of the song, with lyrics such as “If you have children someday / when they point to the  pictures / please tell them my name” expressing Taylor’s wish to her fans and band at the time of writing the song that she hoped to be remembered, even if her career has reached its peak. It is this balance that has made the song perfect for both singing in the car with friends and listening to on the night of graduation, as I did in May. This is one of the reasons why this song has remained my favorite out of Swift’s discography and has stood the test of time for me and other fans around the world. My favorite lyric, “I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you,” is one that, in my opinion, perfectly encapsulates the song as a whole. It emphasizes the obstacles that Swift faced during the early years of her career, the frequent doubts about her writing ability, and the legitimacy of her accolades, while also acknowledging that she felt those fights were worthwhile because of the people she had beside her.  

While this song means a lot to me, it is easy to understand why it means so much to Swift’s  fanbase too, as over the years, they have fought metaphorical battles by her side, namely, when  she was cancelled in 2016 and when she lost her masters and ownership of all of her work in  2019. This song is not only a celebration of what Swift has been through with her team and fans, but also a promise from them to her that, no matter what happens, they’ll still fight dragons with her every time.

by Sophia Caneira ’29 on September 24, 2026

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A&E - Music

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I never thought I would be able to see Rush live in concert. Neither did many Rush fans, after their last show in 2015 and the passing of the three-piece band’s beloved drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart, in 2020. Only in 2022, at the Taylor Hawkins tribute concert, did vocalist/bassist/keyboardist Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson step back onstage to honor the passing of another rock legend. I remember watching the performance from home on YouTube. My dad and I had just discovered Rush a few years prior after hearing “Limelight” on the radio. How cool it would be, I thought, to see them perform in person.

Then, just last year, Lee and Lifeson announced the Fifty Something tour. Their first tour in over a decade would honor Peart’s legacy and celebrate Rush’s music throughout the years. To achieve this, Rush recruited German drummer Anika Nilles to help them perform.

On Sept. 14, my dad and I saw Rush play at TD Garden in Boston. The concert opened with the mystical 11-minute masterpiece, “Xanadu,” which, like each subsequent song, received thunderous applause. My dad and I agreed it was the perfect song to begin the set. The remainder of the setlist included all of the classic Rush songs, with the exception of “Freewill,” and the entire Moving Pictures album. The show was lengthy and included a 25-minute intermission and an encore. 

I’ve always regarded Lee and Lifeson as talented musicians, but seeing Lifeson’s fingers fly across the guitar strings in person was simply spectacular. Lee multitasked throughout the entire concert, singing while playing both bass guitar and keyboards. I was also amazed by the elaborate lighting and special effects. The concert featured impressive pyrotechnics and fireworks, flashing lights, and a screen backdrop that played different clips during each song—notably, an animated red car driving around the screen during “Red Barchetta.” The whole experience went way beyond the music.

Aside from some comedic moments, like a cameo from Paul Rudd and a South Park parody of Rush, the video component also included several beautiful tributes to Peart. While the band played “Time Stand Still,” the video overhead featured a motorcycle driving through gorgeous landscapes, a symbol of Peart, who loved motorcycles and traveling, and even wrote several books documenting his life on the road. 

Naturally, my favorite part of the show was getting to hear my favorite Rush song, “The Spirit of Radio.” The arena was electric. “The Spirit of Radio” is such a joyful song, and having 20,000 fans clapping and air drumming along to the chorus made the moment especially memorable. 

As soon as the jumbotron above the stage lit up, the first thing I saw was the three musicians grinning at each other. That pretty much sums up Rush. Lee and Lifeson have the most genuine onstage personas. It is clear from the moment they step onstage that they really love performing—and having fun. Lifeson teased Lee while he spoke to the crowd, and later Lee ran behind Lifeson and photobombed him with bunny ears. The two of them and Nilles are clearly all friends who just enjoy making and playing music together.

Every aspect of the show was designed to honor Peart, who remains one of the greatest drummers in history. Their website and new T-shirts feature two birds—representing Lee and Lifeson—sitting on a traffic light wire while a third—representing Peart—flies away. Throughout the show, Lee talked fondly of Peart, their brotherhood, and his incredible contributions to the music world. Nilles, too, did a wonderful job honoring Peart’s role in the band without at all trying to replace him. 

After three and a half hours, our ears were ringing and our matching Rush shirts were sprinkled with someone’s spilled beer, but it was more than worth it for what very well might have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a band that loves jamming out together as much as their dedicated fans love air drumming along

by Andrew Auclair ’29 on September 24, 2026

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A&E - Music

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On June 12, Olivia Rodrigo released her third studio album and, in my opinion, her most creative to date. Following Sour in 2021 and Guts in 2023, her newest release ditches the brief, four-letter album titles for one of the longest names I have ever read: you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love. Originally speculated to be released in December 2025, the album was reportedly delayed for reasons fans could only guess at, with many suspecting her breakup with actor Louis Partridge playing a role. After months of anticipation, Rodrigo’s dedicated fans finally received what I believe is her strongest record yet. You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love is easily my favorite Rodrigo album, with the strongest collection of songs in her six-year career.

Starting with track one on GSIL, “drop dead” is the most radio-friendly track, especially considering it was one of the singles she released prior to the album. It is a perfectly fine song, but I feel it is just a tad overplayed given how many other fantastic songs this album has to offer. It is a pretty good opener for the album, beginning the story of a girl who gets stuck in a cruel cycle of falling in and out of love. When I was first listening to the album, I didn’t know what to expect, but by track two, “stupid song,” I knew Rodrigo had made leaps and bounds of improvement since her first two albums. On top of being a clever reference to The Cure’s common naming scheme with their own songs, “stupid song,” is a wonderful love song that crescendos beautifully by the end; one of my favorites and, in my opinion, a better version of “drop dead.” “Honeybee” is the third track on GSIL and my least favorite. Personally, I don’t think it adds anything particularly new or creative to the album, as there are much better slow songs on GSIL. Track four, “maggots for brains,” is a really fun ’80s post-punk/pop inspired song with super catchy lyrics and simply magnificent polyphony of overlapping verses for the final moments of the four-minute runtime. “U + me = <3” is a very cute song that is heavily inspired by the “blue-sunshine” post-punk guitar jangle style of indie-pop band Alvvays. The CD version of this song is very cool and is one of the main reasons why I spin this album so much. With the sixth track on the album, “my way,” Rodrigo returns to the exciting teenage girl edge she is so well known for from her first two albums. Upon my first listen, I thought this song was very corny, but with each replay of “my way,” I have come closer to the conclusion that to be cringe is to be free, and maybe I do want to jump up and down on my bed screaming the words into my hair comb. Moving on, “purple” is the next track on the album, and in my humble opinion, leaves a little to be desired. Another one of the album’s slower songs, it has some pretty sweet lyrics, and I enjoy how it gradually builds throughout the whole song, a common choice among this album’s songs. I think the chorus is just a little underwhelming, but the coda at the end of the song is very beautiful.

Rodrigo’s eighth song on you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love is undeniably the breakup anthem of the year. Being named after the transformative British alt/goth-rock band, “the cure” blends gut-wrenching lyrics of a girl realizing that all of her problems can’t be solved by one boy, featuring a magnificent building crescendo that explodes into an incredible symphony of heartbreak and the realization that she might never be enough. The ninth song on the album, “begged,” is another slow song, but the lyrics are very transformative. They describe how the girl in the song comes to realize that maybe it’s not worth it if what a lover receives isn’t equal to what they give. “What’s wrong with me” is absolutely one of my favorites on the whole album. While this song is also inspired by the band, The Cure, it novelly features a haunted verse and harmony, delivered by lead singer of the band Robert Smith, that compliment the depressing lyrics. This song seriously feels like a culmination of every instance Rodrigo has referenced the band in her career. “Less” is the third and best of GSIL’s catalogue of slow songs. I do not know how to explain how brutal this listen is without advising someone to try it themselves. The lyrics, “if loving me means saying / ‘babe, I think this is the end’ / well, I guess / I wish, I wish, I wish / you loved me less,” are forever burned into my soul. The twelfth song on GSIL, “expectations,” couldn’t be any larger of a tonal shift from “less,” but that’s exactly why it’s amazing. “Expectations” is a super upbeat and peppy track that takes light inspiration from electronic and dance genres to compliment the self-confident, girl-boss lyricism. That’s right, Olivia, show ‘em who’s boss. If the album ended there, I think everyone would be perfectly happy and excited for Rodrigo’s well-needed boost in confidence. However, in the thirteenth and final track of this album, “cigarette smoke,” Rodrigo talks about her regret for ever thinking her last man could last. Every lyric in this track makes me wince in pain, but if I were to choose one to personally hold on to, it would be “you’ll be miles away tomorrow / why’d I try all.” Ouch.

You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love was such a satisfying summer release for this year. I have always enjoyed watching Rodrigo’s career evolve, but I was always waiting for the one album that would click with me. A week after GSIL came out, I decided that it was truly a work of art. While writing this, I asked a fellow opinionated friend how he felt about it, to which he responded jokingly, “I want to put my head through this wall.” You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love by Olivia Rodrigo is a wonderful addition to not just her ever-growing discography but to 2026’s release catalogue. I’m not sure when the next playlist of mine won’t contain a single song from this album.

by Ian Gualtiere ’27 on April 23, 2026

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A&E - Music

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It Just Took A Nap

There is a saying that tends to unite generations with varying degrees of success: “What’s old is
new again.” Obviously, gone are the days of actual disco venues where one could spend their
weekends trying to look as effortless as John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever (1977).
Nonetheless, certain forms of art tend to cycle after many years; every moment in the chronology
is given a new moment to shine, which every generation tries to add in its own special flair,
resulting in a culmination of eclectic and unique art that somehow pays homage to its origins
while remaining accessible into the future. Generation Z’s use of disco has had a wide array of
results, spanning from new TikTok dance trends to Instagram story ambiance.

These modern-day uses continue the legacy of a musical genre once considered on the outskirts
of musical acceptance; thus, the notion was that it only attracted those who were also
marginalized. Individuals who resided in the subcultures of New York City, San Francisco, and
Philadelphia—African-American, Italian-American, Latinx, and LGBTQ+—supported a series
of nightclubs and artists who employed this newly emerging form of music. Disco was seen as a
revival of the communal dance of the 1940s, but instead of the big bands, there was a solo band
with a funky beat. It was also a reaction against the 1960s counterculture movement, the acoustic
folk music that defined the hippie generation, and the mainstream acceptance of rock as the only
form of music. Nightclubs such as Le Club, Studio 54, The Loft, and Paradise Garage only
fueled the emerging culture of nightlife that seemed like an endless supply of dancing, drinking,
and drugs. This was all very much to the frustration of parents whose kids snuck out to the disco
and city officials who had to deal with the nights that never ended. Bands like KC and the
Sunshine Band, ABBA, The O’Jays, The Commodores, Village People, and Bee Gees
capitalized on this frustration with early 1970s stagnant music and sought to revolutionize a
genre of music that had yet to find its identity.

Various factors eventually drove the acceptance of disco to the edge of mainstream and tried to
erase it from history. With the popularity of disco defining the sound of mid to late 1970s music, its oversaturation and constant parodies drove many people away from the trend. The most
famous movement against disco came in the United States by the ardent supporters of rock,
which resulted in many fans wearing “Disco Sucks” shirts and accusing rock artists of selling out
if they incorporated disco. The most famous event that validated the anti-disco movement was
“The Day Disco Died;” July 12, 1979. Disco Demolition Night was a promotional event held by
the Chicago White Sox during an evening game, where a collection of disco records and albums
was brought to center field and blown up.

But, as the aforementioned saying goes: “What’s old is new.” In the past 47 years, disco has been
validated and accepted as a stable form of dance music; it is sometimes played as a reaction
against the recent emergence of house and trap music. Proponents claim that the cleanness of
disco makes it a unifying form of music that people can all dance to, without the use of explicit
lyrics.

Interestingly enough, there are frequent instances of “Lay All Your Love On Me” blasting out of
the windows of Eaton Street houses; the basements of club formals singing along to “Don’t Go
Breaking My Heart;” and student bands who try to play “September” onstage at McPhail’s.
What’s old will always be new; it is with the cyclical qualities of music that genres that were
widely hated, misunderstood, and rejected during their eras are always justified by the groove of
time.

Maybe this is a larger reflection on how the 2020s can be seen as a parallel to the 1970s:
stagflation concerns, social polarization, bellbottom jeans in vogue, geopolitical instability,
people on the moon, energy dependence, distrust in government, consumer exhaustion, and a
new Star Wars movie being released in May. Who knows how our history will be told. If there is
any incentive for a better decade, we only have four more years to come up with a dance that can
rival The Watergate.

by Ian Gualtiere ’27 on April 16, 2026

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A&E - Music

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We’re Just Living In It

We all know the impact of The Beatles, whose songs like “Here Comes The Sun” and “Hey Jude” prompt mass sing-alongs and connect generations with similar musical tastes. But this is not an article about the history of the band; that article would try to encompass the wide range of musical abilities and creative songwriting that changed the conventions of music and fashion during the 1960s. What, however, is so special about the eras that came after The Beatles, especially after their breakup in 1970? What does each solo career show?

The lives of the band from Liverpool were documented, categorized, and memorized by the most die-hard fans, eager to dive into deep conversations about deep cuts from the solo careers of each Beatle. John Lennon’s Imagine (1971) explores the post-Beatles era as one of anger and confusion, while advocating for worldwide peace, but still reflecting Lennon’s complex and fragile emotions as he formed a new musical career—one that would be tragically cut short after his murder in 1980. George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass (1970) covers years of pent-up frustration that finally get a chance to flourish without the noise of other band members, while still applying a philosophical Eastern spiritual element. Ringo Starr’s Ringo (1973) represents what the band’s drummer was: a bridgebuilder, who informally got the help of his former band members to collaborate. McCartney (1970) is, perhaps, the least cohesive yet profound collection of half-written songs, home recordings, and rambling lyrics that show that one Beatle couldn’t come to terms with a solo career. 

Paul McCartney, by the early 1970s, had moved his young family to an isolated farm in Scotland and recorded a one-man album, where he played and recorded every instrument, along with t some contributions from his wife Linda. As McCartney said of this experience, “I nearly had a breakdown. I suppose the hurt of it all, and the disappointment, and the sorrow of losing this great band, these great friends…I was going crazy.” The warmth and reflective nature of this album are considered to be a pioneering quality in lo-fi music, which has been adopted by aspiring musicians on YouTube and TikTok. 

The career of McCartney branched out from McCartney, where the formation of his own band, Wings, culminated in a rich and rewarding discography that spans the mid to late 1970s. Albums such as Band on the Run (1973), Venus and Mars (1975), and London Town (1978) capture the rock-n-roll spirit of the times. By the early 1980s, McCartney dissolved his second band to focus again on a solo career, which saw collaborations with artists like Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, and Elvis Costello, culminating in Tug of War (1982), Pipes of Peace (1983), and Flowers in the Dirt (1989). The 1990s and 2000s saw McCartney turning into an “elder statesman” of music as he turned more acoustic and open to collaborating with the remaining members of The Beatles. The deaths of Linda and George Harrison by the turn of the century turned McCartney more reflective with Chaos and Creation In The Backyard (2005). 

The past 20 years of McCartney’s career prove one defining theme that characterized The Beatles: he is chameleonic and is always willing to find ways to create. A collaboration with Kanye West and Rihanna in 2015 resulted in “FourFiveSeconds,” and a series of concerts has kept McCartney relevant. McCartney III (2020) was thought to be the accepted bookend in his solo career, which saw a similar style and structure to his first solo album, and similar circumstances of self-isolation, however, due to different reasons. 

But it appears that in the past two months, there has been a resurgence in McCartney’s creative powers and public image. Man on the Run (2026) is a documentary film released in February that documents McCartney’s post-Beatles career; in March, it was announced that a new album, The Boys of Dungeon Lane, is set to be released at the end of May. McCartney will also be the musical performer on Saturday Night Live on May 16. 

In a career that has spanned almost 70 years, from skiffle bands in the streets of Liverpool to the roaring crowds of Shea Stadium to isolated Scottish farms, McCartney continues to be a living testament to the power of creativity; his music has evolved and endured longer than any other musician can ever claim.

by Andrew Auclair ’29 on March 19, 2026

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A&E - Music

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A Review of Misadventures by Pierce the Veil

When people talk about Pierce the Veil’s best work, the album Collide with the Sky (2012) tends to dominate the conversation. Between that career-defining release and their recent comeback album, The Jaws of Life (2023), sits Misadventures (2016), an album that is often overlooked and misunderstood. While it may not reach the dramatic highs of their most iconic record, Misadventures showcases a band experimenting with melody, structure, and emotional tone in ways that make it more cohesive and compelling than it may first appear. 

My introduction to Pierce the Veil came through The Jaws of Life, which Apple Music recommended to me shortly after its release. Though I had never listened to the band before, I gave it a chance and quickly found myself replaying a few tracks, including, “Emergency Contact” and “Pass the Nirvana.” While the album didn’t immediately strike me as groundbreaking, it sparked enough interest for me to explore their earlier work. Eventually, my curiosity led me through their discography, where Collide with the Sky stood out to me as their most essential album. Instead of revisiting the obvious fan favorite in this article, I found myself drawn to Misadventures, an album that feels like a bridge between their raw beginnings and their more polished present-day releases. 

Released as the band’s fourth studio album, Misadventures leans heavily into fast-paced instrumentals and emotionally charged songwriting. Lyrically, it often circles familiar themes such as yearning, heartbreak, and fractured relationships, which, at least for me, can blur together when listening straight through. As a full album experience, this repetition occasionally weakens its critical impact. However, when the songs are judged individually, their strengths become much clearer. The record is less about lyrical variety and more about mood, energy, and dynamic contrast. The album opens with the track “Dive In,” which immediately sets the tone with a controlled, almost restrained energy before building into a more explosive instrumental break, blending melody and aggression in a way that feels quintessentially Pierce the Veil. As an opener, it establishes both the emotional stakes and the sonic palette of the album. At the other end of the album, “Song for Isabelle” closes the record with a reflective and slightly more hopeful atmosphere. While it follows the band’s established emotional stakes, its final moments feel intentionally mellow, offering a melancholic but satisfying conclusion. Together, these two tracks bookend the album effectively, giving it a sense of purpose from opening to conclusion. 

Two of the most divisive tracks among fans—“Floral & Fading” and “Circles”—are among the album’s strongest. Both lean into the band’s emo-pop inspirations, favoring catchy hooks and brighter melodies over relentless heaviness. Their choruses are insanely memorable, and their more accessible sound highlights an important truth about Pierce the Veil. PTV has never been exclusively a heavy metal or screamo band; melody has always been central to their identity. The playful, sometimes juvenile lyrics in these tracks feel purposeful rather than careless. By embracing their pop structure without abandoning emotional intensity, these songs strengthen the band’s range rather than streamline it. On the other end, tracks like “Gold Medal Ribbon” bring back the darker, more aggressive tones long-time fans might expect, while other songs experiment with tempo and tone. The album succeeds in capturing a specific emotional atmosphere about vulnerability, yearning, and youthful emotion. Overall, Misadventures may not be Pierce the Veil’s most iconic release, but it is far from a bad release. It stands as something of a transitional record, one that plays it pretty safe, but subtly also pushes in new directions. Its occasional lyrical redundancy is balanced by strong structural bookends, memorable hooks, and moments of genuine experimentation. For listeners willing to look beyond the big-name albums like Collide with the Sky, Misadventures reveals itself as a solid and often underrated entry in the band’s catalog; an album that deserves more credit than it usually receives.

by Andrew Auclair ’29 on February 26, 2026

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A&E - Music

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Iceland’s Gem

With Valentine’s Day now behind us, there may be no better time to reflect on one of the most compelling breakout artists of the 2020s: Laufey. Since emerging in 2020 with her debut single “Street by Street,” Laufey has steadily built a career defined by authenticity, classical training, and a distinctive jazz-pop sound that sets her apart from much of today’s mainstream music. While still studying for her music degree at Berklee College of Music in Boston, MA, Laufey wrote and recorded much of her early material for in-class assignments. In 2021, she released her debut EP, Typical of Me, introducing audiences to her soft-spoken vocals and orchestral arrangements. She graduated shortly before releasing her first full-length album, Everything I Know About Love (2022), which went on to top charts in both the United States and Iceland. The album featured standout singles such as “Valentine,” a track that played a significant role in expanding her fanbase and creating her early success. 

Since her debut, Laufey has released two additional albums: Bewitched in 2023 and A Matter of Time in 2025. Both projects continue her signature blend of jazz harmonies, classical instrumentation, and emotionally reflective songwriting. Her music frequently incorporates sweeping string sections and live orchestration, giving it a classical quality that feels both vintage and modern. In a musical era often dominated by electronic production and fast-paced trends, Laufey’s work stands out for its intentional simplicity and influence. Many of her most popular songs, including “Goddess” and “From the Start,” explore themes of heartbreak and longing, while others such as “Clean Air” and “Letter To My 13 Year Old Self” shift toward themes like personal growth. Along with her vocal tracks, her instrumental arrangements and special edition releases have become popular among students looking for music to study or relax to, at least in my opinion. 

Her artistic accomplishments have also earned significant industry recognition. At the 66th Grammy Awards, Laufey won Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album for Bewitched, marking her first Grammy victory. She later received the same award at the 68th Grammy Awards for A Matter of Time. In both acceptance speeches, she expressed deep gratitude toward her family, thanking her parents, grandparents, and especially her twin sister Junia, who frequently joins her on stage as an extremely talented violinist for a song or two. Their musical collaboration has become a key part of Laufey’s live performances, highlighting both her classical background and her strong family ties. 

Beyond her recorded music, Laufey maintains a notably positive and engaged relationship with her fans on stage and on social media. On Instagram, she often shares professional photo shoots and tour highlights, while on TikTok, she posts more casual content, including “get ready with me” videos, collaborations with other artists, and sometimes Laufey-related memes. At concerts, she regularly thanks her audience for their continued support and makes an effort to create memorable moments, sometimes inviting the best-dressed fan on stage based on the theme of the album. These interactions greatly contribute to the perception of her as both humble and appreciative of her growing success. 

As someone who has followed Laufey since 2022, I remember eagerly anticipating the release of Bewitched on Sept. 8, 2023, the same day that Olivia Rodrigo released Guts. While many of my classmates were listening to Rodrigo’s album on the school bus that morning, I was listening to Bewitched, which would quickly become one of my favorite albums to this day. Compared to her previous work, this album felt more cohesive and emotionally refined. It carried a distinct fall atmosphere that matched the season of its release, making it especially memorable. More recently, when Laufey announced her A Matter of Time tour, it was only a matter of time before I would try to get tickets. I attended her concert at TD Garden in Boston, and the performance exceeded all of my expectations. The set design and lighting effects complemented the orchestral arrangements beautifully, and her interactions with the audience felt genuine rather than rehearsed. From the themed audience participation to the awesome merchandise, the concert experience reflected the same amount of love and attention that she puts into all of her recorded music. 

Laufey’s rapid rise to popularity represents more than commercial success; it reflects a broader shift in musical tastes among young and old audiences alike who are increasingly drawn to jazz-influenced and classically inspired pop. Through dedication to her craft and a clear artistic identity, she has carved out a distinctive place within contemporary music. As her career continues to evolve, I’m invested to see how she further develops her sound and expands her reach. If her career so far is any indication, Laufey’s presence in modern music is likely to be both influential and enduring.

by Ian Gualtiere ’27 on February 26, 2026

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A&E - Music

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Investigating An Instagram Trend

One of the crowning achievements of classic rock is its enduring, timeless charm that continues to stay relevant to each new generation. The vibrant songs of The Beatles are still sung as lullabies from parents to children, Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” is the seventh-inning staple for Red Sox games at Fenway Park, contemporary rapper Frank Ocean dubbed vocals over The Eagles’ “Hotel California,” and a slew of film biopics surrounding Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Queen, and Elton John are seemingly the buzz of awards season each year. One of the more increasingly revived artists from this bygone era of music, where vinyl albums ruled daily conversations and the holiday season, is the Detroit-native rocker Bob Seger. Even though Seger is 80 years old and has since retired from making and performing his greatest hits such as “Night Moves” and “Old Time Rock & Roll,” his raspy voice and gritty lyrics have inspired one Watertown, MA local, Brian Daly, or @wickedfast. 

In an interview with The Boston Globe, Daly said, “To me, Bob Seger is just so nostalgic to like, something about growing up in the cold, salty streets of Massachusetts.” This notion is shared by many, where the lyrics of Seger tend to evoke images of empty dive bars, driving down the highway at night, beautiful losers, and the first rush of romance in a young person’s life. The ebbs and flows of life are complete in a single Seger song, where the quiet desperation of loss is then followed by the loudest yell of freedom and individuality. Though this is indicative of most Seger songs, a listen to “Roll Me Away” would suffice. Daly was inspired by these images and the hopeful communal love for Seger to start hopping around local Boston watering holes with one single objective in mind: ask them to play Seger. The origin of these videos from Daly’s Instagram account can be dated to late November 2025, when he first appeared in front of Olde Magoun’s Saloon in Somerville, MA; Daly then asked his audience a simple question: “Is it a bar, or is it a Seger bar?” This single video garnered 30.5k likes on social media as Daly asked the waitress if they could change up the music, to which the waitress responded that the music was already on a set playlist for the day. This deterrence has not stopped Daly from frequenting the locals around Boston in search of the bars, pubs, and saloons that would “play a little Seger.” 

Hilarity has ensued in the past several months as Daly continues to ask the simple question, but a growing crowd of friends, family, and other Instagram accounts have started to accompany him. A notable video contains Daly asking the question at The Burren in Somerville; he is promptly told that the live band is starting to play. The video cuts to a full-scale Irish pub band as they sing Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band’s “Like A Rock.” 

This weekend, the playbook is quite simple. You walk into the nearest bar, pub, or tavern; order yourself a drink at the bar; and then ask the bartender if they would play a song from  Seger on the music system. If they agree to play whichever song from the Seger song catalogue, then this bar is indeed a “Seger Bar.” If not, you walk away dejectedly from the bar and sit down with your friends and commiserate over a pint and the fact that you are not listening to “Night Moves” or “Still The Same.” If not, don’t be deterred and continue looking for that “certified Seger bar.” 

And for those wondering about the Seger scene around Providence College: Bradley Cafe (Yes) and Old Irish Social Club (Yes).

by Barrett Holsapple ’26 on February 26, 2026

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A&E - Music

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I’ll never forget the summer after fifth grade when my mom made us show up hours early to the Imagine Dragons concert. I didn’t understand why we would do that. Sure, I absolutely loved the band at that age, but the concert started at 7 p.m., so why would we show up at 3 p.m.? After endless hours of 11-year-old me sitting against the brick wall at the Prudential Center in Newark, the doors finally opened, and the long General Admission line was ushered through security and out to the stage.

It wasn’t until the concert began and my little hands were gripping the barricade railing as I stared directly into lead singer Dan Reynolds’ eyes, that I understood why my mom insisted on getting there so early. My mom truly created a monster that day.

 Though I’m not an Imagine Dragons fan anymore, that night still influences how I approach concerts. In my opinion, there is nothing more euphoric than being at the barricade for your favorite artist. There’s no worrying about what song comes next in the setlist, because no matter what it is, you’ll know every lyric. The atmosphere, especially in the pit, can foster a surprisingly loving environment. Everyone is there for the same reason: they love the music and the person performing it.

 That shared passion can make it very easy to bond with the people around you. I’ve found that many fans will have each other’s backs when it comes to enjoying the show, whether this means saving spots for strangers, using the bathroom, or even defending others against disrespectful fans who are ruining the experience. Recent trends like themed outfits, DIY clothing pieces, and homemade beaded bracelets have only strengthened that sense of connection. A show isn’t just a performance anymore; it’s a shared experience.

But over the past few years, with the rise of resale platforms and skyrocketing demand, the culture and the market have changed significantly. Getting tickets, let alone securing a spot close to the stage, has become increasingly difficult. It’s now normal to skip class or work just to sit in an online waiting room for hours, placed into a queue, and hoping that when your turn finally comes, tickets are still available.

And if you do manage to get through, you’re left deciding whether hundreds of dollars is worth a few hours of music. Price gouging has made concerts practically unaffordable for the average person. For major mainstream artists, it’s even become common for fans to camp outside venues days before the show just to secure a spot in the General Admission line. Somewhere along the way, concerts stopped being just about music. 

Social media has also blurred the line between artist and audience. With constant access to livestreams, interviews, behind-the-scenes content, and curated glimpses into artists’ personal lives, it’s easy for fans to feel deeply connected to someone they’ve never met. While parasocial relationships aren’t new, they’ve intensified in the digital age. For some fans, attending one show isn’t enough. Somehow, small groups of fans manage to follow artists across the country, attending multiple shows on the same tour in different cities. The performance becomes less about the music and more about proximity. And for some, that feeling of closeness is powerful enough to justify extreme measures.

Live music culture will continue to evolve, as it always has. The pit will likely always hold that same chaotic, euphoric energy that hooked me at 11 years old. But as ticket prices rise and fandoms intensify, the real question isn’t whether the magic will disappear, it’s how far people will have to go to experience it.

I’ll always chase the barricade. Not just for the view, but for the whole experience: the hours on the pavement, the strangers who become friends, the split second when the lights go down and it all feels worth it. I just hope that experience doesn’t become something fewer and fewer people get to understand.

by Ally Gagne '26 on February 26, 2026

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A&E - Music

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My Spotify interface is a sacred space. I have been perfectly curating my most impressive playlists for years, and I take pride in the upkeep of these greats. Being the busy senior that I am, I haven’t been able to sit down and comb through my playlists in the way that I used to. This is something I’ve decided I need to get back to, because I can’t sleep knowing that there are people out there with better playlists than me. 

My playlists are much more than combinations of songs. To me, they are my own art projects. A good playlist is supposed to be able to transport its listener to a time or place outside of themselves, or make them feel a specific way that just one song can’t do alone. Playlists are an important part of knowing and loving music, and I’m going to let you in on the secrets of how to build a darn good one. 

Step 1: Listen to entire albums. 

In order to build a good playlist, you have to build a good mental music library first. What helps me when I’m building my playlists is visualizing a library in my brain, giving artists their own shelves with the songs of theirs that I know, and pulling down my favorite records off the shelf. No good library has empty shelves! But seriously, to be able to compile a group of songs into a playlist, you need to have a good enough baseline knowledge of artists that you like, or at least be open to diving a little deeper into some new songs. 

Step 2: Decide where you’re going…or don’t! 

Oftentimes when I’m building a playlist, I know the exact moment or place I’m trying to encapsulate, and I have to start by closing my eyes and bringing myself there. For example, one of my favorite playlists that I’ve made is called “Force 5,” the name of a small surf shop I grew up going to every summer on vacation. Every memory I have of going into that store is centered around the music that was always playing in the background, and how that music made the environment feel. Having upbeat, beachy music playing in the store made sense since it is a surf shop, but that background music became so crucial to my experience in the store that now whenever I hear it, I’m brought right back there. That’s why I decided to create that playlist, to transport myself not just to Force 5, but to a warm summer day, just from hearing that music. 

Sometimes when I go to create a playlist, I don’t necessarily have a specific time or place in mind that I’m trying to recreate, but more so a feeling. Music carries a lot of power with it, where it can evoke some pretty strong feelings through just a few notes, and sometimes creating a good playlist is about finding the right songs to go together that all evoke that same feeling. Without necessarily knowing exactly where I’m going at first, sometimes I find that the best playlists get made by picking a few songs that feel the same, and seeing where that takes me. I have synesthesia, so when I listen to music, I not only hear it, but I also see it and truly feel it in a way that many others don’t. I find this to be a gift, where I get to listen to music with a much different perspective, and sometimes it even helps me categorize music in a specific way that makes sense to me. Some of my best playlists only make sense to me, but that’s the beauty of a good playlist, because at the end of the day, it is truly for YOU. How you want to interpret music and categorize it is up to you and only you, making playlist building a very individualized experience. 

Step 3: Always keep listening and adding 

One of my biggest tips I can offer once you start making a playlist is this: a great playlist is never truly done. Even when you feel like it’s complete and the story you’re trying to tell has been told, there is always room for improvement and new additions. Once you know where you’re going (or at least have a feeling), then it becomes easy and honestly so fun to start compiling songs. The act of building the playlist itself is, at least for me, therapeutic, where I get to go back and enjoy listening to some of my old favorites while discovering and loving new songs too. The great thing about music is that it’s always evolving, and there is constantly great new music coming out that you can experience. If you continue to be curious, you’ll find that there is an infinite pool of music out there if you just dive in, and swimming through it is the most fun part!