There’s Nothing Smelly About The Big Cheese

My flatmate and I were curled up in hungover stupors this morning, iPod on shuffle, and Katy B’s ‘Lights On’ started blaring. We winced, she shotgunned not, and I jumped up to skip song. Evergreen. Will Young. Beautiful. The world was put to rights once again.

This got me thinking about last Wednesday’s ‘Varsity Afterparty’ at Potterrow. Of course, the prospect of a mid-week P-Row boogie and a few snakebites were enough of a reason for me to abandon the essays. But this turned out to be no Big Cheese…It was a Babybel at best.

What I didn’t realise is that Wednesdays are virtually lactose intolerant in comparison to the glory of Saturdays, so instead of ‘Just Can’t Wait to Be King’ and ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, I was faced with a DJ putting his own ‘sick ass spin’ on ‘Riverside’ and a near-empty dance floor. At midnight. This was all wrong.

Give Me Cheeeeeese

But it got worse. DJ I Hate Gouda clearly realised he needed to pull a bigger crowd so gave us Smash Mouth’s Allstar. Choon, but this was also accompanied by a drummer who played so loudly that the vital Shrek-essence of the song was completely shat on by his indiscernible beats.

I actually stood, motionless, with my friends in stunned disbelief and sobering up by the second.

Left: This Music is Shit. Right: Where’s the Brie?!?

By the end of the night he relented and whacked out ‘Call Me Maybe’, and the difference in atmosphere was SO noticeable. HERE was the parmesan-whiffing gold we were here for, and we were on Cloud 9. A guy I’d met that night and I even started a celebratory conga, and with storming success.

P-Row In All Its Cheesy Glory

When you go to a wedding, the thing that brings everyone together is Build Me Up Buttercup, Walking on Sunshine and the Grease Medley. 90 year olds and 10 years olds, lads and lasses, BNOCS and geeks alike can all get involved because we all KNOW, but most importantly love, these tunes. We’ll appreciate the homogenous beats of The Lane (or whatever the fuck it’s called these days) now because we’re cool dudes at unaayyy. But give it a couple of years and we’ll be saying ‘it’s just noise’ like our parents.

Enraptured By The Cheese

Cheese gets better with age. Fact. So embrace the stink.