The day the music didn't die

Can music save your mortal soul? Not likely — sorry Don McLean. But can music transform lives and transcend differences? Absolutely. My passion for music began early in grade school with a Sony Walkman, a Christmas gift from my parents. I explored the FM band time and time again in wondering at the foreign sounds coming from my headphones — jazz, classical, Latin music and something called alternative rock. Alternative struck me as catchy and rebellious; and, since hip-hop had yet to reach the ears of my suburban friends, everyone else (a phrase that parents surely despise) was listening to it.

As I grew older my tastes evolved, or perhaps, devolved. I fell in love with '60s rock for its brooding emotion and the brute, ineffable power of the electric guitar. Earlier musicians sculpted with chisels while Jimi Hendrix and Pete Townshend wielded their guitars like chainsaws and jackhammers; the results were raw and deeply personal but somehow transcendent enough to define a generation.

What music defines our generation? Disgruntled as I am with most contemporary music, I'm afraid to answer that question. But we're young enough and, I dare say, courageous enough to make that answer something of which we can be proud. With a little assistance from the University, musical innovators at Princeton can be at the forefront of this effort.

While the University's music department has excellent faculty and first rate facilities, including the delightful Mendel Music Library, it understandably does not make its recording studio space available for general student use. Students in certain courses, music majors working on theses, music grad students and the department's faculty are permitted to use the studios, but only for academic purposes.

These policies exclude the vast majority of the student body to the detriment of the creative atmosphere at Princeton. Many exceptional musicians, singers and songwriters do not major in music, and even those who do enter the department are often involved in important projects outside their course of study. With the dearth of practice spaces on campus, it's hard for musicians to practice without putting on a de facto concert for their dormitory neighbors. These deficits in practice and recording spaces are deplorable, especially compared with the facilities available to students interested in other creative fields.

Anyone interested in painting, for instance, can enjoy the new visual arts studio in Wilcox, while photographers have access to a darkroom in Forbes and a digital photography lab in Whitman. These facilities are all open for extracurricular use; it's about time that the University gave similar opportunities to talented students interested in performing and recording music. Students should not have to seek off-campus facilities for music since on-campus facilities would truly enhance the University arts community.

Recording studios would serve academic as well as extracurricular purposes: Imagine a freshman seminar in audio engineering, for example, or dance groups being able to create highly customized instrumental accompaniments. Music groups, from Symphonia to the Tigertones, could increase student interest with high quality demo recordings that were created on-campus.

Now that the need for, and benefits of, recording studios have been made clear, where on campus should these facilities be developed? There are two obvious answers to this question. Residential colleges excel at blurring the line between academic and extracurricular pursuits; they are a natural choice. Perhaps the dormitories under construction for Butler College could house recording studios.

Another option is the arts neighborhood that will be built in the southwest corner of campus. While the arts center will undoubtedly expand the facilities for creative and performing arts, the University should also use this opportunity to develop recording spaces for general student use.

Finally, how should these studios operate? I recommend involving students as much as possible. The University could hire students as audio engineers who would supervise recording sessions and maintain the recording equipment. Students would be permitted to use the studios without supervision only if they demonstrate proficiency with recording techniques, and interested students would pay a deposit for studio access that would be refunded upon graduation.

As the University plans the arts neighborhood and considers new facilities in the residential colleges, I urge it to give the Princeton music community the same opportunities it offers to other branches of the arts. Let's make the state of the arts at Princeton truly state of the art. Matt Hoberg is a philosophy major from Kennett Square, Pa. He can be reached at mhoberg@princeton.edu.