"Are College Kids Killing Madison's Club Scene?" When I read Doug DeNicola's article in a recent issue of coreweekly, I was offended. I am a student. I am of the average student age. If I am killing the club scene in town, it is more from exploitation than neglect.

The longer I thought about DeNicola's article, the more offended I became. The more offended I became, the more I recognized reality. The claim is completely true.

During a mid-August show at the High Noon, I looked around the crowded bar to see if I recognized anyone. Rather that finding friends, I discovered I was clearly in the minority age group. Odd thing is, The Redwalls themselves were also in that minority. Between set changes during any Lucky Boys Confusion performance at the Annex, I find myself listening to conversations about high school football teams and detention. Once again, in the minority age demographic.

With that as my reality, the club culture — and the student involvement in it — of the early '90s in Madison seems almost mythical. The term is hardly even in our over-educated vocabulary. How often is one asked if she wants to go to a club? It is far more likely the question has "bar" replacing "club." How often is one asked if she wants to go hear a band? It is far more likely the question uses "drinking" as the primary activity over any kind of "listening."

When a friend, a co-worker, a classmate asks if you want to go out, who even ponders the possibility of live music? Instead, many quickly do a mental run-down around town, nightly specials at Wando's, Brothers, Brats. $1 Long Islands means many things to many people. $1 Long Islands means $2 for three songs on the jukebox. $1 Long Islands means a long night of Top-40 hits. $1 Long Islands means I still have a dollar in my pocket and am contentedly staying at home.

I dare say, for students in Madison, it seems the issue is one of simple economics rather than interest. We are clearly interested in our music. We rarely walk anywhere on campus without our headphones firmly fixed, iPod volume so loud that the person walking next to us could share the sounds if only he did not have his own.

And who was not outraged to find The White Stripes playing Milwaukee of all places rather than our own fine city? Upon the moment of discovering Jack and Meg could not forge a few more miles to Madison, who did not curse the area's music scene? We are interested all right.

So it must be the economics. As such, paying a cover charge to hear a band you will never remember when you just want to get wasted is counterintuitive; it is downright ridiculous.

And yet, plenty are willing to pay $25 to see Ben Folds rock the Orpheum in October. Many will not hesitate to hand Ticketmaster $40 to see Nine Inch Nails and Queens of the Stone Age at the Alliant in a few weeks. Some still stand by their $95 ticket stubs to the recent Rolling Stones extravaganza in Milwaukee and call it well-spent money.

So refine the theory. The issue of students and the club scene depends on who is playing the club. Who the hell cares about up-and-comers? Who is mourning missing Queens of the Stone Age years ago at O'Cayz Corral? After all, they are coming back.

Such is exactly the detrimental mentality. Who the hell cares about up-and-comers when there is no guarantee they are up and going anywhere? You the hell should care. Instead begins the downward spiral that leaves us damning Madison as the city skipped on every tour. If we have not heard it, we do not care. If we do not care, they will not come.

Let me offer a few apparently little-known secrets of the club: a smaller venue rarely equates to the booking of lesser talent. It is here that most bands make their start. No one wakes up one day, stumbles across a guitar, announces a concert and sells out the Orpheum.

That is why people mourn missing Queens of the Stone Age back in the heyday of busy venues. They missed out on the characteristic club scene, which means more energy, more sweat, more rawness and more of the fundamental music than the commercial show. They missed standing within feet of guitarist Josh Homme. If O'Cayz had been as dead then as many clubs are tonight, they missed mingling with bassist Nick Oliveri.

The possibility of saying you kicked it with the Kings of Leon before the phenomenon of Aha Shake might be enough for some. But partying with rockers or future-rockers aside, here is another shocker: bands communicate.

It is unlikely a musician comes to Madison without hearing that the university student body consists of quite the exceptional partiers. Yet when he starts his set and the audience consists of little more than a few old friends, the opening band and the club staff, it does not bode well for his return.

More importantly, it does not bode well for booking future bands. With so many talented musicians regularly playing Madison clubs — and the amazing string of talented musicians driving through for one night — it is hard to go wrong.

I could write in attempts to encourage a turn to nouveau-club culture until my fingers bled. That would only lead to a messy keyboard, not a packed house at the King Club on Saturday night. Local rockers The Selfish Gene are really not to be missed. I am not expecting to arrive early to make sure I secure a good line of vision at the Annex Sunday for Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah. And they have recently sold out shows all across Canada.

The music culture in Madison is as reliant on the musicians on stage as it is on the appreciative audience. Bitch and moan all you want that Luther's closed, leaving Fall Out Boy to opt for the Rave rather than finding another venue here. Your complaint that no one good ever plays Madison falls on deaf ears. If students do not get out and enjoy music as it was meant to be — in a crowded setting where the beats and bass lines are as intoxicating as anything gets — clubs will not book bands that appeal to our tastes.

We may have a recent past of slowly killing the club scene, but it is not without possible revitalization. Wander into any club in Madison on a Friday or Saturday night and step right in. You just might like what you hear. The club scene will not kill the student. If the music cannot win you over that time, the bar with $1 Long Islands is not far. And there is always the promise of another night, another club.

Christine Holm is a senior majoring in English. She can be reached for question or comment at [email protected].