Now Carbon is gone, Cheese will reign

Waving goodbye with its terrifyingly poorly-titled “Rave 2 the Grave” finale, Carbon, one of Oxford’s last bastions of good music, has disappeared into history.

No longer will we be able to witness the striking culture clash between the suited public school boys* stumbling out of Camera and the wavey garms clad English students* opposite them in the smoking area of Carbon.

RIP Carbon

Nevertheless, as easy as it may be to take the piss out of Carbon and its edgy fans, its closure leaves Cellar as the only Oxford club with a standout difference to the rest.

This means only one thing – we’re going to be hearing a lot more cheese from now on.

Arriving in Oxford only a few weeks ago, I felt willing to give this cheese music a chance, as like most people, I enjoy the occasional West-End number or ‘blast-from-the-past’ track.

However, the bottom-floor DJs of Bridge, Park End and Wahoo have taken this already suspect musical genre to an unprecedented level. I can’t say that being serenaded by a sweaty physicist while the Pokémon theme tune blared out the speakers of Park End was an enjoyable experience.

Nor was it fun when I had VK spilt all over my new jumper at Bridge, while the dulcet tones of “Cotton-Eyed Joe” played in the background, as it had done every single Thursday night. Indeed, even after much heavy drinking, I don’t feel I can take these infamous cheese sets for longer than about five minutes.

Knitwear-ruining bastards

Maybe I’m a boring cynic who can’t release his inner child, but I wonder how many people listening to this crap music genuinely enjoy it?

Here’s a thought, what if no one enjoys it, but everybody thinks that everyone else loves it?

This means that everyone has to pretend to have fun, even though no one is. Everyone has to fight off the tears of despair just so they can feign delight at the fact that the DJ has dropped “Let It Go” for the fifth time of the night.

Where does that leave us?

Dancing through the pain

It leaves us in a self-perpetuating nightmare where everyone is having a terrible time, but is too afraid to say so, causing the whole ordeal to continue day after day, week after week, year after year.

He needs a bottle that big to cope with the shit music

But like I said, it may just be me. I might just have to buy a copy of Now 54 and drink myself into an even greater stupor before heading out for a big night.

Whatever I do, I’ll have to start getting used to this music.

Bring on the cheese.

*Plot twist: They are the same people