The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 22: Uprising?

Deviating from last week’s exploration of Michigan Traditionals, today’s post focuses more on songs made popular in more recent years.  A rock song played over the stadium loudspeakers or a pop song heralded by the band can carry just as much emotional weight while being relatable to the students, who would much rather listen to Seven Nation Army than Varsity.


Seven Nation Army.  This adrenaline-inducing 21st century anthem emerged in 2003, making it about as old as the younger end of this year’s freshman class.  Its solid angst-ridden lyrics are largely ignored in favor of “Oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ooooooh-ooooooooh,” which, to be fair, is the tune that makes the song so popular–but you’ll never hear them at a sports game because of the aforementioned “Oh”-ing.  This song was played after we beat TTDS at The Game while the field was being stormed, so it is also a victory anthem.


Pump it Up.  This song by Endor has very, very straightforward lyrics:  “You got to pump it up / Don’t you know? Pump it up,” but its significance at Michigan home games cannot be understated.  After The Trio, the stadium (whether it be Yost or The Big House) blasts this song, and everyone repeats the mantra while high-fiving each other and basking in the glory of our team having scored a point.  Unsurprisingly, it was played multiple times on November 27th.


Uprising.  The question mark in the title is on purpose.  After this song was played during the third halftime show of the season, the Fearless Leader started asking the band if they were ready to play Uprising in the stands with a simple question:  “Uprising?”  It became a running joke for the remainder of regular season (I can’t testify to anything after November 27th).  It’s enough of a power anthem that it warrants a spot as a stand tune next year in my 100% unbiased opinion.


Blues Brothers.  Ah, yes, the Blues Brothers theme!  With an amazing, peppy melody and a fun dance, you can’t go wrong (unless you get the moves to the dance wrong).  It’s quite a shame that this happens during commercial breaks, because this is about the only time I am doing something that passes as dancing.  (The Cha-Cha Slide does not count because it isn’t really played in the stadium.)  Also, the final bit where we cheer and shout, “I QUIT!” is an incredible way to unleash pent-up tension.


Mr. Brightside.  From the moment you read the first sentence, you knew this was coming.  It had to.  No list about modern band/sports game anthems would be complete without the punk rock gem by The Killers released in September 2003.  After all, nothing quite makes your day like a stadium of 100,000 people belting out the verse, bridge, and chorus to a song that, for its upbeat tempo and catchy melody, is really depressing when you read the lyrics.  But there’s something magical about shouting the (hopefully correct) words and feeling your voice getting swept away by the sheer number of people who are screaming around you.  The anticipation builds as you reach the line, “But it’s just the price I pay,” where the audio cuts out and everybody finishes the chorus in a thunderous mass of shout-singing.  Even when it was 30 degrees and snowing, the rendition of Mr. Brightside on November 27th was impeccable–especially since, once the field was stormed, the DJ played Mr. Brightside and solidified it as a modern Michigan victory jam.

The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 20: The March March

With winter acting like spring for some reason, it’s only natural for our local band geeks to gain enough motivation to start practicing outside.  However, the dangers of the real world do not end where March begins.  Several band geeks have compiled a comprehensive guide to avoiding the threats to musical instruments in the form of a Q & A session:

Q:  I’m from a part of the country where pollen falls in droves for some ungodly reason.  Will pollen damage my instrument?

A:  I’m not really sure about that in terms of practicing, but if you’re allergic to said pollen, definitely don’t practice outside in early spring.  Or mid-spring.  Or summer.  Because summer gets hot, and then you’re sweating and sunburned and don’t even want to do the C major scale to warm up.  Of course, if you leave your instrument outside overnight, then yes, that’s bad.


Q:  What happens if a diag squirrel approaches me while I’m practicing?

A:  If you’re on the diag, it’s fine.  The squirrels are in their natural habitat.  If you’re on Elbel Field or inside Pierpont when you encounter said squirrel, run.  It’s possessed.


Q:  What happened to all the snow?

A:  Oh, it’ll be back.  Da-da-da-da-daaah da-da-da da-yaaaah da dah.


Q:  OK, but what if it starts snowing during practice like it did the week leading up to The Game and most of The Game?

A:  This is Michigan.  It always snows.  If the snow isn’t blowing sideways and you’re feeling antsy, practice outside if your instrument allows.  Nobody will think it’s weird if you start doing Big 10 Entries in the middle of February because they’re too cold.  But it’s March, isn’t it?  It could still snow.  I think.  IDK, I’m not a Northerner.  I’m from Arizona, Hal.


Q:  How do we know we’re improving if we’re practicing outside by ourselves?

A:  Focus on your technique, embouchure, sound quality, etc.  Do 69 reps of something you struggle on until you get it right–actually, I’ve seen an online band poster that says to practice until you can’t get it wrong, so do that.  Anyway, did you know today (March 10th) is the 69th day of the year?


Q:  Shuddap, Hal!!!

A:  That’s not a question.

The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 19: Faded Halftime

Metal drips

Onto the planes of the floor that lists

And slips into a field across which grit

Spills in rubber bits over spits of grass

Within the lip of a concave beast.



Pushing forth heat and the beats of notes that scream into an impenetrable mass of

Teeming beings melted into a gelatinous sheen

Their wordless voices are shrieks that form a backdrop against the reel of notes.


What is it except burning muscles and the battery’s echoic surge

What is it except the metronome of our feet and the sheet music

Imprinted upon our brains

Like oily tattoos that ooze into the grooves of the mind

What is it except our numb fingers that fuse to the metal in the bitter wind

And snow

Drifting in eddies

As the final strands of warmth fade into mist.

The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 12: Requiem for Marching Band Season

Ice on my tongue, crusted

Over harsh, bitter puffs of nothingness

I trusted

The months would stretch and coalesce into taffy-like time

That eternities would burn in the aftermath of summer’s speed

And all evenings would be fever dreams of drill and fundamentals and Varsity

Until the sun slid behind the lids of the multihued trees and the Fearless Leader

Summoned the teeming mass of band geeks to the center of the tower and we all

Screamed “Go, Michigan!” as a team and December was but a beam on future’s horizon


In January’s rut I cling

To the remainder of the season in my closet and the singing, screaming shrieks of victory

Storms of maize and blue and snow that flowed round human flesh

And the heat that dwindled into a freeze as the fall washed into my memory

And the bright maize lights and the blimp and the remembrance

The fusion of fall with first Notus, then Boreas,


Entanglement of life with Heaven


They said we wouldn’t win until Hell had frozen over

Before they realized

Hell is a town in Michigan.

The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 8: 42-27

In light of our resounding victory against That Team Down South, your local band geek would be remiss not to write about The Game from the perspective of the Michigan Marching Band.

I’m just going to preface this with a simple yet eloquent statement:  WE CRUSHED THEM, BABY!!!!!!  YEEHAAAAAAWWWW!!!!!!  ONLY ONE FOOTBALL TEAM IS GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIP, AND IT’S NOT THAT TEAM DOWN SOUTH!  (As you can see, I’m still basking in the glory that comes from defeating Public Enemy #1.)

5:00 am.  Yes, really–we arose at 5 am in the shadow of the waning night to get fired up for the day we had all been waiting for.  Bundled up in multiple layers with our garment bags in tow,

I forgot where I obtained this from, but I am 99.99999% confident the image is public domain.

we traversed the distance from our dwellings to the sanctified building known as Revelli Hall.  For all the hype that coiled through the frigid atmosphere, the uncertainty of what lay ahead–namely, the expectation that we were going to lose–crouched in the backs of our minds for the most part.

We all wanted to win, of course.  But being a Michigan fan, as we all know, means preparing for the worst during The Game.  Were we going to be subjected to abysmal ref calls?  Succumb to a walloping by That Team Down South (TTDS) for the ninth game in a row?  Or were we finally going to show TTDS who was boss?


Pregame.  In all my time as a marching band member (so basically just this season), I have never heard the fans be so loud.  This was easily the rowdiest the student section has ever been.  And when the band took the field doing entries?  Utter chaos.

It was cheering for the most part, though there were spurts of intense booing that were audible with and without foam earplugs.

Truly, it was magical.


The First Half.  Cold.  Cold.  Cooooooooooooooold.  Where I’m from, temperatures do not dip this low for such extended periods during which we must be outside.  Compared to the eager snow and vengeful wind, the sweater weather that dominated October was a tropical paradise.  Lukewarm handwarmers, semi-numb fingertips, and–hang on a second–


The rest of the first half unfolded as a true nail-biter (or glove-biter, if you were fortunate enough to have gloves).  The holy band beanies were indeed a saving grace against the winter weather (it’s still fall, right?  RIGHT!?!?!?!?!?!?)…until the time came for the halftime performance.


Source: @umichband via Twitter

Halftime.  Arguably the most crucial part of The Game other than the victory, the halftime performance provided heat where the weather did not.  The dusting of snow revealed the tracks of marchers as we went through our drill, our breaths almost as visible as the bull’s ferocious puff at the end of the first song.

By the very end, my fingers were numb and I was in physical pain, but retrospectively it was awesome.  And playing El Toro Caliente evidently worked, because the weather was less miserable during the third quarter.


The Second Half:  Where it All Went Down.  With each touchdown, each stands cheer, the tenuous hope we’d clung to throughout the first half gradually solidified.  Was this really happening?  Were we finally going to dominate TTDS?

I didn’t let my excitement carry me away until the fourth quarter.  When the score was 28-20, I knew The Game could easily be tied with a TD and a two-point conversion, which has been a sore sport for the Wolverines this season (read:  we’ve missed it every time, and the other teams seemingly snuck past our defense to score.  Yes, I’m looking at you, Sparty).

Then, in the fourth quarter, it happened:  the cymbal rank leader called Cheer 8.

The drumline calls a series of cheers throughout the game, each in a different context.  Drum cheers are similar to stand tunes other than the fact that only the drumline plays.  Cheer 8 is reserved for moments when we are definitively beating the other team and involves a dance that includes the whip, so its being called was a watershed.  All of a sudden, the possibility of victory felt real.

When Haskins scored the sixth touchdown, we knew.  The final minutes were those of surreal anticipation and chaotic thrills as the seconds ticked toward zero–

And then the football team rushed the field.


Source: @umichband via Twitter.

Triumph.  Elation.  Screaming brazenly as our lord and savior Carl Grapentine announced the final score to thousands of victorious Michigan fans.  A fervent rendition of “The Victors” exploding from our instruments as fans began to storm the field.  I sensed going into the season that the field would be stormed if we won The Game, but it was a mere fantasy, a wishful hope the dream of smashing TTDS would finally come true.

As my overjoyed hollering joined the ecstatic roars of thousands, the cold evaporated into a storm of maize and blue.


Aftermath.  …for about ten minutes.  Then, we had to wait for quite literally thousands of fans to clear the field.  (Also, it was snowing again.)  The field, when we did finally set foot onto it, was littered with detritus:  primarily maize pom-poms, although I did spot a shot-sized bottle of Fireball whiskey.

The MMB celebrates wins by wearing our shakos backwards from the conclusion of our postgame performance to the moment we enter Revelli after cadencing there.  Flipping around my shako as I had done for all the home games this season felt differently than before.  It felt magical, incredible, fantastic.  It also felt unstable because my chinstrap was not adjusted accordingly, and I was too dang cold to bother adjusting it.  Perched as it was atop my beanie (with help from my hand holding it in place), my backwards shako bore the victory as I marched along the pavement with a giddy smile stretched across my face.

Although the regular season is over, the band/football season and this blog are far from finished!  Tune in next week for more band-related hubbub.