The bottom line is, Spring Fever failed to deliver. Behind even
the most insufferable of shows, however, there lies a story.

After an earnest effort from Battle of the Bands winners Five
Side, Beatle Bob made an appearance during the Redwalls’ set. He,
presumably, had other places to be; but we are happy to report that
he toted a copy of The University News along with him as he made
his exit.

As the crowd before the stage began to grow in anticipation of
the headlining acts, many students were somewhat bewildered when
Lucky Boys Confusion took to the stage before Zebrahead. While the
term ‘mosh pit’ might not be relevant in this instance, one bodily
injury was reported during Lucky Boys Confusion’s set.

These guys rock so hard that it hurts, and sophomore Dave
Gallaher can offer his broken right arm as proof.

Although Zebrahead was equally rowdy, many students were not
only bothered by lead singer Justin Mauriello’s excessive and
unnecessary exposition at the beginning of the set, but also
wondered why the band played so many cover songs. Either way, the
performance was anticlimactic.

It goes without saying that the failure of the fireworks to go
off as all those gathered counted down from 10 not once, but twice,
was indicative of this.

Backstage, an aspiring young journalist learned that bad reviews
are the hardest to write. This has nothing to do with the risk of
hurting someone’s feelings; the difficulty lies in finding the
resolve to stick around for the entirety of the performance.

If you watched the entire show, hats off to you–this writer
made the executive decision to hone her interviewing skills
instead. If we are going to get technical, keep in mind that
remaining in earshot doesn’t count, even if you were in the beer
tent.

Even if a person can’t hold a tune to save their lives, has no
tattoos or piercings and hates punk rock music, there is bound to
be a time where he or she landed among the most hopeless of the
uncool–unless, of course, this person didn’t go to high
school.

Regardless of whether most students enjoyed their set, they have
more in common with the constituents of Lucky Boys Confusion than
they think.

Kaustubh “Stubhy” Pandav’s struggle to escape a childhood bound
by tradition (“Lucky Boys to Play Fever,” April 22) invariably
affected the way he was viewed by his peers.

“There was one world inside the house and one world outside,”
Pandav said of his strict upbringing. Growing up, being different
often means being tragically misunderstood by one’s peers,
something that Pandav found discouraging. “It’s so hard to be
unpopular when you have so much to offer the world,” he said.

These days, he’s pretty hard to miss, not just because of his
pseudo-mohawk with blonde tips, but because he’s offered up these
frustrations in fervent lyrics and strong vocals.

Pandav collaborates with guitarist and vocalist Adam Krier to
write all of the band’s songs. He explained with a relative
sagacity that “there is no formula in art,” as the two songwriters
develop a song and then bring it to the rest of the band to arrange
it together.

Drummer Ryan Fergus also revisited his high school days over a
“Ry-ry cocktail,” a mixture of Jaegermeister, vodka, Red Bull and
Coke that tastes somewhat like licking the pavement in a parking
lot after it rains.

“I was popular freshman year, but my sophomore year, I got into
punk rock,” Fergus said. “Associating yourself with punk rock is
basically taking a vow of unpopularity.”

Willingly, he stepped into a territory where he knew that he
would have fewer friends, and he found himself becoming a happier
individual despite this fact.

“I decided to think for myself, and I realized that I didn’t
want to be popular,” he said.

Guitarist Joe Sell found that his fellow high schoolers came to
respect him for his individuality. “You eventually lose enmity with
the popular people, and the jocks realize that the stoners are
cooler than they are,” he said. “At this point they stop actively
disliking you.”

Their high school days have come and gone, but popularity is
still something worth reflecting upon.

Bass player Jason Schultejann said, “We don’t want to be one of
those bands that comes and goes.”

“If we had a No. one song in St. Louis, 2,000 people would have
been here, but they wouldn’t remember us six months from now.”
What’s more important for the members of Lucky Boys Confusion is
being able to “recognize familiar faces at the shows,” Schultejann
said. “We want to build a fan base slowly, and keep them
longer.”

This might sound like nothing more than good P.R., but it’s
true: Sophomore James Abril of Naperville, the Chicago suburb that
Lucky Boys Confusion call home, has been a fan of the band since
the days when they played in bowling alleys.

Sell recognized him after the show on Friday, a testament to
their fan appreciation if there ever was one. “I was surprised that
he remembered,” Abril said.

Lucky Boys Confusion have come a long way since their Brunswick
Zone debut in 1997. They worked with Michael Miguel Happoldt of
Sublime on their second major release, Commitment, an experience
that was “good,” Pandav said.

“He was like a big brother. He made us better, but he wasn’t
trying to make us into himself. He didn’t try to make us into
Sublime.”

Signing to major record label Elektra improved their music
considerably, Sell said. “We have gotten more concise with
songwriting,” he explained. “On a major label you have to make your
music more accessible, and more focused,” which, he said, is a
considerable challenge.

“Music and myself are so intertwined. Anyone that’s in a band
will tell you that,” Sell said.

“You can’t see where one begins and the other stops.”