I get very protective of Boston Calling Music Festival. I’ve been going to the festival since its inception in 2013 (this year was my fifth time attending and third time covering it for Sound of Boston), and I’d actually started to grow fond of Boston’s eerie, stone-cold City Hall—even though an uninformed tourist might mistake it for a jail—because I associate it with so many good times at Boston Calling.
A few months ago, I was sitting on my couch—noodling on a marketing challenge that had been driving me crazy for weeks at work.
Without going into specifics, something wasn’t clicking with the way our company was positioning and selling its products. It felt like we’d outgrown the strategy we had introduced only 10 months before.
I remember it being Super Bowl Sunday, and I was so obsessed with this “project” (I actually wouldn’t even call it a project at that point) that not even the flashy commercials could take my eyes off of my laptop screen. In Photoshop, I’d mocked up a little chart that mapped out an idea for a new product positioning/packaging model.
The idea I had was stupidly simple. Impossibly obvious. My gut was telling me it was the way to go. But it would be a pretty sharp departure from the model our marketing team and company had worked so hard to build over the course of the previous year.
Discovering the meaning of “introvert” in high school was, to this day, one of the biggest moments of clarity in my life. I knew I wasn’t shy. I knew I didn’t have social anxiety. I knew I wasn’t timid or afraid to share my thoughts.
But I did know that I sought more alone time and quietude than others. No matter how much I enjoyed (and still enjoy) being around people, I found that I needed extra time to recharge and reflect after social events or a full day of interactions.
It was a huge relief to finally have a way to describe myself: an introvert. (In case you’re curious, I’m an ISTJ on the Myers-Briggs personality spectrum.)
Knowing this has helped me understand why I act in certain ways and how I might respond to different situations. In school, for example, I nearly always did homework in my room because I knew that the constant stimuli in common spaces—or even in the library—would drain my mental juices more than the homework itself.
The professional working world has exposed and challenged my introversion more than anything else, though.
I like having goals. Everyone knows resolutions are made to be broken. (C’mon, when was the last time you kept a resolution?)
While resolutions can be fluffy and vague (“I want to eat healthier this year”), goals are usually more specific and—if you’re thinking about them in the right way—require a plan of attack for achieving success.
I pose a bold question in the title. Right off the bat, you’ll notice that I am suggesting EDM (electronic dance music) culture is broken. I mean it. Coming from someone who respects and enjoys EDM and, as I’ve previously written, believes in the principles of the culture, this isn’t something that’s fun for me to say. However, I think that the PLUR (Peace Love Unity & Respect) narrative surrounding EDM/rave culture puts on a dangerous facade that conceals some really deep-rooted issues. Continue reading “How Can We Fix EDM Culture?”