Higher learning: A look inside Georgetown’s psychedelic scene
KATHERINE WILKISON AND JAKE LANG
March 28, 2025 Volume 57 | Issue 13
4 voices
Despite professionalism and racialized stigma, I will never regret getting my first tattoo
AJANI JONES
5 leisure Bunker? I hardly know her
KARCIN HAGI
6 voices Burning truths: The human cost of cigarettes
EVALYN LEE
7 halftime leisure
In “The Giver,” Chappell Roan says save a horse, ride a cowgirl!
LUCY MONTALTI
12
halftime sports
From the stands to the screens: Black women athletes can’t catch a break
IMANI LIBURD
13 voices Who’s afraid of coming-of-age novels in school libraries?
EMILY TRAN
14 sports
D1 in sports, A1 in music: The Fellas Band was born for the big stage
SAM LYNCH
15
halftime leisure
Top 10 greatest rock songs of all time
ELIZABETH ADLER
“Roan’s latest single, “The Giver” is a bold country—or rather cuntry—anthem infused with her signature raunchy charm, in a sparkly, gingham package. Channeling the playful confidence of ’90s Shania Twain, Roan delivers a rootin’-tootin’, denim-clad, rhinestone-studded banger that’s fit for the diviest of karaoke bars.”
PG. 7
Han, Alaena Hunt, Sophia Jacone,
Khoury, Belinda Li, Stella Linn, Aiden Liss, Aidan Munroe, Rory Myers, Minhal Nazeer, Christina Pan, Renee Pujara, Nicholas Romero, Mahika Sharma, Isabella Stratta, Brendan Teehan, Eileen Weisner, Catalin Wong, Sharon Xie Thank you Hoya Game Day, Wingo’s, and the CALL
Dear Voice readers...
I have (wet) dreamed of publishing the sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll issue since my first year at Georgetown, and I am reaching catharsis now that you are holding it firmly in your hands.
The Voice’s mission is to inform the community and to “make the community conscious of controversial subjects,” and that’s what this issue aims to do. Some of its stories directly discuss “sex,” “drugs,” and “rock ’n’ roll,” but others explore topics that often go undiscussed at Georgetown—ones only whispered about or deemed too taboo. My goal as editor of the Voice has been to challenge how we think about our coverage and to reenvision how our journalism can best serve the community. This issue is one example of the Voice’s goal to publish stories that challenge set norms instead of replicating them.
And before you laugh at me for devoting an entire issue to sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll, need I remind you that the freedom to discuss these topics, and others, is under threat.
Send me a note about what you think at editor@georgetownvoice.com. I’d love to hear from you.
Apply to the Steve Pisinski scholarship!
Started in 2019 and named after the first editor-in-chief of The Georgetown Voice, this grant is meant to aid students seeking careers in journalism. This year, we’re offering three to four awards of $2,500 to subsidize the cost of an unpaid or underpaid journalism internship, including housing, transportation, food, or other costs.
Apply at georgetownvoice.com/scholarships by Friday, April 11.
Thank you to the Gridiron Club and Foundation, and to the alumni of the Voice, for your generosity, which made this scholarship possible.
Read more of the sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll issue, including our 2025 sex survey, on georgetownvoice.com.
BY AJANI JONES
DESIGN BY LUCY MONTALTI
I got my first tattoo at the lowest point of my freshman fall.
After a hard adjustment period and spending my first major holiday in the States alone, I needed a change. So, the day after Thanksgiving, I strolled up M Street and got the first of a few aesthetic changes I would make during my college career.
I had been mulling over the decision for a few weeks, but I had some hesitations tied to lingering lessons from my upbringing.
Growing up, my mother would constantly hammer home the idea that if I wanted to be successful in life, I had to look the part. Her outlook, like many around us, was subconsciously rooted in the deep scars left by colonialism and anti-Black cultural erasure in Jamaica. Even if inexpensive, my clothes always had to be well-styled and pressed. My hair had to be groomed and
my skin pristine. Absolutely nothing could be out of place or else I risked the chance of being deemed not good enough.
I always hated the notion that my appearance, just one facet of myself, could make or break my chances in life. Although a large part of me resented her,“professional etiquette,” and the way conformity made me feel— especially as a young queer person raised in a very patriarchal society— deep down I understood where she was coming from. The world is very unforgiving of Black bodies, even more so to those that are deviant or otherwise expressive.
In a world that seems largely hardwired with white supremacist ideals, Blackness and non-white identities and experiences are often at odds with the vision of conformity being pushed. Across the board, Western culture tends to overvalue a certain brand of “heightened minimalism.” Every few months, a repackaged version of the “clean girl” aesthetic––whose practitioners are overwhelmingly white––pops up, encouraging you to relinquish individualism and adopt an “elevated” style that just so happens to tick all the right boxes: pure, symmetrical, “elegant.”
Muted and subtle are the names of the game. Monochrome suits and subdued blazers are the standard in most workplaces. For me, coming from a culture that flourished in bright colors and eccentric patterns, this drastic aesthetic shift was jarring. Nowhere is this more present than in the workplace, where we spend a significant portion of our lives. College graduates entering the workforce are typically encouraged to abandon the eccentricities of their youth to fit into the expectations of their industry. Although some degree of variety exists between workplaces, at the end of the day, professionalism is (often) just white supremacy repackaged in a socially acceptable fashion. Standards of dress and behavior in professional culture push the idea that you must look, act, and think a certain way, not only to be accepted, but to thrive. Deviation is not just frowned upon but shunned.
This puts professionalism at odds with practices, like body modification, that elevate and encourage deviance and selfexpression. Hair, tattoos, and piercings are some of the most popular ways for people to use their own bodies as a canvas for expression. While not every new body modification must have meaning to have inherent value, there is undeniably a story behind every creative choice a person makes, even if it simply boils down to “it was funny.”
While my first tattoo was not an immediate salve for my struggles, it still allowed me to feel newly whole at a time when I needed it most. But in the workplace, these crucial acts of self-expression directly contradict a culture that prioritizes conformity over all else.
The stigma surrounding body modification in all its forms was, however, not originally rooted in professional culture’s emphasis on conformity and minimalism. Body modification stigma has a far more sinister origin, rooted in colonial practices to stamp out resistance. Various forms of expression with direct ties to Indigenous, African, and other racial minority cultures were systemically limited or outright banned.
These restrictions gave rise to the sentiment that piercings, tattoos, and other forms of body modification—which, at the time, were most associated with both Black and Indigenous groups—were signs of lower social capital and looked down upon. This attitude gradually ingrained itself within the collective cultural consciousness, leaving behind the subtle impression, even centuries later, that body modifications are, to some degree, objectionable.
While the stigma against body modification affects everyone, there is an acute stigma against non-white bodies. Under a presidential administration that allegedly used tattoos to justify the deportation of roughly 200 Venezuelan men, it is clear that the racial biases behind body modification stigma continue to persist in dangerous ways.
As more cases of wrongful arrests and seemingly baseless deportations accumulate by the day, the fear stewing in BIPOC communities is palpable. Even as someone critical of conformity for about as long as I can remember, I find myself at an impasse: Do I lean into counterculture and risk putting an even larger target on myself? Do I cave to the growing pressure around me and conform, even though that doesn’t guarantee myself, or anybody that looks like me, safety?
We are at a precarious time where physical appearance, both in and outside the workplace, is a dual weapon of dissent and control. As the world around me continues to spiral, I find myself thinking back to that crisp autumn evening. Walking out of the tattoo parlor, my side was sore but my spirits were high, higher than they had been that entire semester. Although it was spur of the moment, I will never regret getting that first tattoo. For me, it’s a reminder that I am here, that my body is my own, and that tomorrow, regardless of how far away it seems, will be brighter. G
BY KARCIN HAGIN GRAPHICS BY ELLIE TA; LAYOUT BY LUCY MONTALTI
Descending into Bunker, D.C.’s leading nightclub for gay men, the familiar fragrance of sweat and tequila overwhelmed me, filling me with anticipation of what the night had to offer. My most recent trip was paradoxically a night of both emotional clarity and memory loss—something I’ve learned to expect from a night here. Bunker was once an unfamiliar experience, and nothing will ever compare to the first time I stepped through the vault door.
After letting my eyes adjust to the absence of stable lighting during my initial visit, I was greeted with the sight of a fully naked go-go boy dancing on the bar. His raw vulnerability eased any first-time hesitation I had left. Looking over the crowd, it was hard to tell where one shirtless man started and another ended. Given the sheer number of Bunker dwellers, you have to get used to proximity. Adjusting to this new environment, my friend and I quickly learned to lose our shirts and melt into the crowd. Thankfully, Bunker has a clothes check for all to use, a feature not often found in D.C. nightclubs. After years of seeing Instagram posts of halfnaked gay men at raves, I had previously come to the conclusion that these men just left the house in a jock, but the innovation of a clothes check clarified a lot of lingering questions in my mind. Say what you want, but when queer people see a problem, they find a solution; where there’s a will, there’s a gay!
Bunker’s decor is innovative as well, designed to feel as though you are waiting out nuclear fallout. Given recent world events, I’m curious if Bunker could actually function as a bomb shelter. I may
ask—I wouldn’t mind being holed up here for a while. The front entrance is a heavy industrial vault door, providing a sense of separation from the outside world, supporting the notion that what happens in Bunker stays in Bunker.
Once you’re able to throw the door open, the interior design impresses auras of chaos and jagged edges while alluding to the queer culture it was created for. The decor tastefully reflects the hypermasculine, party lifestyle those within Bunker aspire to. The designers of Bunker used chain-link fences and exposed concrete, which maintains a virile presence throughout the venue. My favorite decorative element at Bunker is the accent wall behind the DJ setup: an intricate collage of analog machines and old pieces of technology. The intentions behind the design elements are subtle, but crucial to maintaining the circuit vibe that Bunker impressed upon me.
Gay men of all ages overwhelmed the dance floor, although I’m unsure if popper-induced swaying can be considered dancing. Since being in D.C., I’d yet to feel the freedom I felt here at Bunker. While my initial ambitions for the night did not include the salacious behavior surrounding me, the autonomy to wear (or not wear) what I want and selectively partake in activities I choose gave me a great sense of appreciation for this environment. After the end of an identity-defining situationship, Bunker gave me a strong sense of liberation amid a tasteful amount of chaos. No rules governed this place, and no one dared raise an eyebrow at what anyone else was doing— or snorting. I soon realized that the beauty in a place like Bunker lies in its absence of rules. Queer men especially have grown up facing ridicule for expressing themselves, and Bunker is the perfect escape from the criticism of everyday life.
While talking with the night’s assortment of men, I learned that most of them were respected professionals in many industries. Typical for D.C., the Thursday night crowd sought an escape from a staggering four days of work. While this assured me that life postgrad might be somewhat fun, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to balance both a professional and circuit gay lifestyle. Consultants, legislators, and lawyers made up most of the dance floor, raising the question: Do these people even work on Fridays?
Over the few short hours I first spent in Bunker, I witnessed countless men pair up to take a trip to the bathroom. In an increasingly radical political climate, it was heart-warming to see queer people using the buddy system to ensure each other’s safety. While I won’t go into the happenings of the Bunker bathroom, I will say the flushed cheeks and crooked jockstraps leaving the stalls left little to the imagination.
Despite this, Bunker is not merely a sex playground, as they organize events and invite performers integral to the queer community. The club often hosts drag queens, DJs, and pop-star-themed discography nights. These are always towards the front half of the night, so if your GBF (girl best friend) watches too much Sex In the City (1998-2004) like mine does, it would be safe to entertain her dream of going to the gay club. There’s typically a humorous migration out of the club as the venue shifts from a drag show to a more sordid vibe for the latter half of the night. After that point, I can’t imagine there’s much a straight woman would want to see.
Overall, my first night at Bunker back in my [REDACTED] year at Georgetown provided me with an intense but inspiring glimpse into the gay scene of D.C. Free from the smothering presence of pseudo-frat guys eagerly awaiting their chance to voice a slur, I felt that for one night I could behave without consequence, for better or worse. Given that I rarely miss an opportunity to return, it’s no surprise that I highly recommend Bunker for those looking to have a wet dream of a night. G
BY EVALYN LEE
GRAPHICS BY PAIGE BENISH; LAYOUT BY LUCY MONTALTI
Cigarettes are back, and they are sexier than ever. They emit a mysterious aura, serving as a chic accessory for parties or study breaks outside Lau. By smoking a cigarette, one can emulate the philosophical pensiveness of Sartre or the rock ’n’ roll energy of Timothée Chalamet playing Bob Dylan. Cigarettes also embody brat (2024). As heard in the lyrics of “Mean Girls”: “with the razor-sharp tongue stuck to skinny cigarettes [...] yeah she’s fucked up, but she’s still in Vogue.”
The aestheticization of cigarettes in music, film, fashion, and even academia has contributed to its persistent allure. But haven’t we already been told about a million times that cigarettes are bad for us? Cigarette packaging depicts blue and choking faces in hospital beds, mutilated and amputated limbs. Despite its killer effects (literally), cigarettes are still viewed as fashionable. Perhaps it’s because, as one friend once described to me, “smoking is like a form of cultural nihilism. Who cares about a drunk cigarette when the world is ending because of the climate disaster?” With the anxiety-producing landscape of 2025—wildfires, hurricanes, plane crashes, a constitutional crisis, artificial intelligence, COVID-19, and now measles—it seems like the world around us will get to us quicker than a nicotine addiction.
However, by adopting this nihilistic attitude with each drag of a cig, we are choosing to ignore the exploitative history and current reality of the tobacco industry. Smoking is not just a neglect of our own health, but of others’ as well.
In Cigarettes Inc.: An Intimate History of Corporate Imperialism, Nan Enstad discusses how the American Tobacco Company’s North Carolina factories racially segregated their departments in the 1930s,
employing Black workers in leaf production and white workers in cigarette production. Leaf department jobs paid the least and had been associated with Black labor since slavery. Factory conditions for Black workers were hot, dirty, dusty, poorly ventilated, and lacking in sufficient toilets and sinks, while white workers had newer and cleaner facilities. The American Tobacco Company used segregation to justify pay differentials, maximizing its profits.
To further cut labor costs, British American Tobacco (BAT) expanded their production to Asia, establishing its first factories in Shanghai. In 1922, the U.S. Department of Labor expressed the belief that the Chinese laborer was “industrious, able to subsist on comparatively little, [and] possesses splendid endurance.” This racialization of Chinese workers as “industrious” and possessing “splendid endurance” justified the starvation and mistreatment of BAT factory workers, as lunch breaks and even bathroom breaks were forbidden.
Workers in Shanghai BAT factories protested their mistreatment and poor working conditions in the 1920s. When their workers went on strike, BAT factories employed the military, hiring British watchmen and guards to defend the factory compounds. Chinese authorities protested the presence of foreign military on their soil, but they were unable to stop BAT, underlining the company’s colonizing power. BAT’s defiance of local authority and use of military force to crack down on workers’ strikes shows how cigarette production and imperialism in Asia went hand-in-hand.
Though a hundred years ago, this history matters because BAT is currently worth almost 90 billion dollars and would not have been able to accumulate its wealth without this racist and imperialist exploitation.
Today, U.S. tobacco production continues to outsource labor to other countries, taking advantage of low wages and unfair labor practices. A 2010 study by Human Rights Watch revealed
instances of child labor on Philip Morris International farms in Kazakhstan. The report also cited studies that show that laborers’ lungs can absorb around 36 cigarettes worth of nicotine from a day’s work in a tobacco field.
Child labor continues to be an issue on U.S. soil as well. There are thousands of children, especially those of migrant backgrounds, in Kentucky, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia working in tobacco fields. Government policies exempt tobacco production from regulations that prevent child labor. The Fair Labor Standards Act does not require minors to obtain work permits for agricultural work, nor does it limit the number of working hours per day. Tobacco production tasks are also excluded from the Hazardous Occupations Order, which deems specific agricultural jobs as too dangerous for minors under 16.
In an NPR interview, José Velásquez Castellano, now a student at Tufts University, detailed working on South Carolina tobacco fields when he was 13. He described how tobacco fields had a “greenhouse effect” where temperatures rose to over 100 degrees. Nicotine seeped into his skin from contact with tobacco leaves, causing nicotine poisoning with symptoms such as dizziness, headaches, nausea, vomiting, dehydration, anorexia, and insomnia.
The aestheticization of cigarettes depends on keeping the workers who produce cigarettes out of the consumer’s view. What you don’t see in film, on television, or during drunken nights out are the humans who have toiled to produce the cigarette. By ignoring the bloody history and current reality of cigarette production, one can light up, smoke, then crush the stub on the ground without realizing the human cost of this indulgence. The disposability of cigarettes mirrors how tobacco companies treat their workers as disposable. Cigarettes are not an escape from our anxiety over the crashing and burning world—they just add to the flames. G
GRAPHICS BY SOPHINA BOYCHENKO; LAYOUT BY OLIVIA LI
T
hroughout her career as a queer pop darling, Chappell Roan has worn many hats: a tiara, a camo baseball cap, and now, a cowboy hat.
Roan’s latest single, “The Giver” is a bold country—or rather cuntry—anthem infused with her signature raunchy charm, in a sparkly, gingham package. Channeling the playful confidence of ’90s Shania Twain, Roan delivers a rootin’-tootin’, denim-clad, rhinestone-studded banger that’s fit for the diviest of karaoke bars.
Fans first got a taste of “The Giver” four months ago, when Roan, in a lacedup, baby pink getup with matching cowboy boots, debuted it on the Saturday Night Live stage. Since then, she’s played the ultimate tease, launching an epic monthlong rollout.
Roan began hinting at the song in a mid-February Instagram story, encouraging fans to dial 620-HOT-TOGO—a hotline allowing callers to press numbers and unlock different snippets. Soon after, billboards, posters, and flyers popped up around the country featuring Roan dressed as campy versions of various professions—a lawyer, plumber, construction worker, dentist, and detective—each captioned with a different innuendo-filled double entendre. Boasting lines like “Dental dams aren’t just for dentists!” and “Your wife’s hot! I’ll fix her air conditioner,” it’s safe to say Roan graduated summa cum laude from the Sabrina Carpenter School of Racy Wordplay.
Alongside the song’s release, Roan posted an equally suggestive lyric video capturing the maximalist visuals of ’90s TV infomercials. The video showcases clips of Roan as her aforementioned professions, edited with deliciously low-budget transitions, animations, and pop-ups— perfectly reminiscent of the commercials you might find while channel surfing at 3 a.m. This embrace of kitsch is nothing new to Roan, who channeled a similar earlyinternet-shabby-chic aesthetic for last year’s “Good Luck, Babe!” lyric video.
“The Giver” kicks off with a rowdy chorus of fiddles, banjos, and drums. While the instrumentation might feel familiar to the genre, Roan’s lyricism reimagines typical country narratives, specifically its brash approach to sexuality, in a queer context. She plays with classic tropes—
often rooted in rigid gender binaries— singing, “Ain’t got antlers on my walls / But I sure know mating calls / From the stalls in the bars on a Friday night.” Roan insists that the intimate abilities of even the most rugged cowboys pale in comparison with her effortless allure, knowing exactly how to satisfy another woman. In other words, she can and will steal your girl.
The chorus is equally fun and flirtatious, as Roan takes charge, unambiguously flaunting her role as “a giver” in the bedroom. She’s a serial flirt and a skilled lover (a seasoned professional, if you will) and she wants everyone to know. She makes it crystal clear that her prowess far exceeds that of your typical “country boy” quitter. Confident and commanding, Roan flips the script on the stereotypical country heartthrob, proving she really knows how to get the job done.
Country music’s signature call-andresponse style is embedded into the bridge, with Roan’s voice lowering into a sultry whisper as she chants “na-na na-na na-na-na-na” while twangy male voices echo, “She gets the job done.” However, one major omission in the studio-recorded version of the song stands out. During the Saturday Night Live performance, Roan kneeled and stared straight down the barrel of the camera, declaring, “All you country boys saying you know how to treat a woman right? Well, only a woman knows how to treat a woman right!” The line acted as the touchstone of Roan’s playful yet pointed message and, without it, the bridge feels like it’s missing a few rivets.
Although Roan puts an ironic spin on country themes and imagery, “The Giver” is a bonafide country song. It’s not country-pop, and not country-inspired— just country. With the rest of her music remaining in the pop realm, it may seem out-of-character for Roan to take on a true country sound. However, in an interview with Apple Music, Roan expressed that the song was born out of a legitimate love for the genre, stemming from nostalgia for her upbringing in Southwest Missouri. She found humor in the juxtaposition between the song’s lyrical content and sound— believing it was the perfect way to express her identity as a Midwest princess and a lesbian drag queen. She demonstrates that someone with those characteristics can, in fact, “perform a country song,” challenging
the perception that queerness and country music are incompatible.
In the interview, she also noted that “country music is so incredibly camp,” with male artists performing exaggerated masculinity through clothing and lyrics— not to mention female stars, like Dolly Parton, donning tall wigs and long nails in a similar vein to the theatricality of drag queens. Perhaps this is why “The Giver” fits so well into Roan’s existing discography, even though it strays so far musically from the synth-drenched hits of The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess (2023). Rather than impersonating a watered-down image of country, Roan identified aspects of the genre that are true to herself and her artistry, much like Beyonce’s production of Cowboy Carter (2024). The effect is both remarkably subversive and genuinely refreshing.
“The Giver” is an embodiment of everything that makes Chappell Roan, Chappell Roan. It’s witty. It’s camp. It’s sexy. It’s proudly Missourian, and it’s unapologetically queer. While she has made it clear that the release of “The Giver” isn’t an indication of a permanent pivot to country music, the single proves she has a deep understanding of the genre, masterfully blending its hallmarks with her own glittery flair. More importantly, it’s a testament to her ability to experiment without losing sight of who she is. All in all, consider the job well done. G
Higher learning: A look inside Georgetown’s psychedelic scene
BY KATHERINE WILKISON AND JAKE LANG DESIGN BY MICHELLE WANG
Which one of your professors is most likely to offer you LSD?
For Harvard undergraduates in the 1960s, it was psychologist and psychedelic evangelist Timothy Leary. Now, his famous call to “turn on, tune in, and drop out” is resonating with a new generation of students as psychedelics once again grow in prominence on campus, in the District, and beyond.
From mushrooms containing psilocybin to LSD and DMT, psychedelics have long been associated with the American 1960s counterculture, radical politics, and the wealth of music, art, and style they inspired. Now, psychedelics are going mainstream despite remaining illegal in most contexts, with possession carrying heavy, often racially disproportionate, penalties.
From “Manosphere” podcasts like “The Joe Rogan Experience,” where Rogan preaches the power of psychedelics, to university clinical trials, it is clear that how we think and talk about drugs today suggests a departure from the days of “Just Say No,” the widely critiqued anti-drug education campaign. Even Georgetown is getting in on the action.
A 2024 survey conducted at Georgetown and 153 other colleges found that 9.6% of students reported having ever used a hallucinogenic substance, including magic mushrooms, ketamine, LSD, and ecstasy.
At Georgetown, these substances have moved beyond the realm of personal use. Last semester, the Theology department offered Psychedelics and Mysticism, a class examining Hindu and Buddhist mystical traditions as well as psychedelic history and science. This fall, the department will offer a new seminar called Psychedelics and Spiritual Healing, according to Georgetown’s course catalog.
“I was really honestly shocked to see that at such a prestigious institution like Georgetown there would be a class on psychedelics, and so I was instantly drawn to it,” Max Potter (MSB ’25), who took Psychedelics and Mysticism, said.
In many ways, it was a typical Georgetown class. Thirty-two students spent the semester taking notes on lectures, cramming for exams, and writing papers. Discussions, however, were often out of the ordinary, as some students brought stories about their psychedelic experiences, or trips, into the classroom.
One of these students, Sarah (CAS ’26), who spoke to the Voice on the condition
that she be identified by a pseudonym, was introduced to mushrooms by a friend during her sophomore year. She said that first trip changed her life. Trips vary depending on the substance, dose, person, and environment, but can include visual hallucinations and feelings of transcendence or mind-body unity.
Sarah has long struggled with anxiety and, although she didn’t take shrooms to “search for a cure,” she stopped taking antianxiety medication after that first trip, she said. Since then, she has taken mushrooms every “four months or so,” often with close friends out in nature.
“I wouldn’t really consider myself that anxious of a person at this point, and I really attribute it all to that first trip,” Sarah said. “After every trip, in general, I normally feel very reflective. It does take a while to really think about what you experience after each trip and extract the lessons from it.”
While mushrooms are not an FDAapproved treatment for anxiety, some research has found that psilocybin, a naturally occurring psychedelic compound found in some mushrooms, has positive effects on mood.
People have long found enjoyment, healing, and spiritual and cultural connection through psychedelic experiences. For thousands of years, psychedelics have been central to the healing and knowledge systems of Indigenous peoples around the world. However, colonial violence and criminalization often challenged the preservation of these practices, pushing many sacred traditions and wider use underground.
Sarah’s experiences with mushrooms inspired her to sign up for the Psychedelics and Mysticism class. She grew up Christian and “spiritually inclined,” she said, but the class and her psychedelic experiences have changed her perspectives on spirituality.
“Religion is essentially a framework for you to create your own understanding,” Sarah said. “We are all co-creators—I learned this through the trip—religion is perspective, but you have the power to create whatever experience it is that you want, and that involves the belief system that resonates with you.”
Students the Voice spoke to emphasized the “natural” element of mushrooms as one of the reasons they are drawn to psychedelics.
“I prefer shrooms being from the earth as opposed to something like acid, which is produced in a lab. I think that kind of freaks me out sometimes,” Olivia (CAS ’25), who
spoke to the Voice on the condition that she be identified by a pseudonym, said.
However, these same students described consuming mushroom chocolate bars like those made by the brand Polkadot. Many of these bars contain a different synthetic psychoactive compound, 4-AcO-DMT, rather than naturally-occuring psilocybin. Often, people are unaware of this difference.
“A lot of the chocolate bars that have been circulating in the United States have been tested, and they’re not even psilocybin,” Kai Blevins, a PhD candidate at George Washington University studying psychedelic drug culture, said.
Blevins spent months conducting research inside of D.C. stores that sell psychedelics, observing interactions between shopkeepers and often uninformed consumers.
“The fact that people didn’t even know what they were taking was kind of alarming,” Blevins said. “Sometimes people didn’t know what they were getting and dispensaries didn’t know what they were getting.”
Olivia experienced her first bad trip after consuming part of a Polkadot bar.
“It made me feel really self-conscious and really self-aware, when I wanted to feel like the opposite,” she said. “That was the last time that I did a Polkadot bar, because I was just like, ‘I don’t think I should feel this way.’”
Since then, Olivia has been more careful about consuming “genuine” psilocybin products, though Blevins explained that product testing and labeling have limitations.
“Regulation is an active process whereby the government sets standards and then provides a way to meet those standards. That does not happen at all in the gray market here,” Blevins said, referring to the unauthorized psychedelics marketplace. “For folks who are using it medicinally or therapeutically, it matters quite a bit if they’re not getting exactly what [retailers are] saying.”
Around the country, there is little to no government regulation around testing or labeling to ensure that consumers know exactly what they’re getting. In June 2024, nearly 50 people in 24 states became sick after ingesting Diamond Shruumz-brand mushroom chocolate bars, which contained “toxic levels” of a psychedelic compound other than psilocybin. Consumers reported experiencing nausea, abnormal heart rates, seizures, and other serious complications.
Purchasing psychedelics is illegal in the District. However, Initiative 81, which passed in D.C. in 2020, deprioritized arrests
and prosecutions associated with common psychedelic plants and fungi, including mushrooms and ayahuasca. While the substances remain illegal, they are now among the “lowest law enforcement priorities.”
Students who spoke with the Voice had purchased magic mushrooms nearby. Sarah described buying them at an unlicensed cannabis store in Georgetown, where it was “pretty easy to get them.”
The Alcoholic Beverage and Cannabis Administration Agency (ABCA) and the Metropolitan Police Department have since padlocked that store, along with at least 40 others in D.C. as part of a campaign to close unlicensed retailers. While this padlocking campaign is primarily targeting cannabis shops, more than 2,790 pounds of mushrooms and mushroom edibles have been seized, according to ABCA records—a reminder that despite their prevalence, purchasing non-medical cannabis and psychedelics remains illegal.
Despite these challenges, psychedelics are reentering American culture through more “official” pathways, Blevins said. Advocates are raising millions in funds, including from the federal government, to conduct clinical trials and win FDA approval for some psychedelics.
“We know exactly what the chemicals are,” Blevins said about the clinical trials. “We know exactly what the doses are. We know who takes it and when, and we have supervision. It’s just so highly regimented.”
There is also a flourishing network of underground chemists and mycologists, or mushroom growers, who are working to fill gaps in mainstream scientific knowledge.
“They are trying to come up with ways to be ethical and to provide the type of knowledge they know that they would want as consumers to other people,” Blevins said. “They’re all sharing information with each other, including standards on how to do testing.”
These selfregulating practices emerge because trust matters when acquiring psychedelics.
For Blake (SFS ’26), who spoke to the Voice on the condition that she be identified by her first name, that’s easy because she gets most of her supply from her father. Like Sarah, she grew up in a progressive area with a long
history of liberal drug policies, so from an early age, she thought of cannabis and alcohol as being “on the same level.”
When Blake began smoking in early high school, she felt that psychedelics were a natural next step. Around her sophomore year of high school, she and a friend dropped acid for the first time and, soon after, she tried mushrooms. She’s done them at least six times since.
“Shrooms are something I use, and acid is something I did. I’m not gonna do [acid] again,” Blake said.
Similarly, other students who spoke to the Voice expressed that in their experience, mushrooms are less “intense” than other psychedelics, particularly acid.
“I have friends who’ve done acid. I don’t think that is for me personally, it just seems a bit intense. I think the fact that the trip is so long and that it’s really a full body, full sensory experience, like sensory takeover, just seems a little overwhelming,” Olivia said.
Unlike Sarah, Blake and Olivia don’t use mushrooms to connect with nature or seek out a spiritual experience. They’re usually just trying to have a good time. Both take mushrooms every few months before going to concerts or music festivals with friends.
“I just love the music, I always end up crying and I’m like, ‘The lights are so beautiful, the music, oh, my god, we’re all here together,’” Blake said. “For now, it’s just fun.”
For Olivia, the sense of euphoria and connection from mushrooms elevates a night out and brings her and her friends closer together.
“My brain felt like it was being tickled, and there was a lot of laughing, a lot of giggling, and I just felt very close to the two people I was with. My favorite part about shrooms is just the feeling of connection to whomever you’re with,” she said.
Many experts believe these substances deserve more open discussion. Potter, who has never tried psychedelics, agrees.
“If someone is going to do a psychedelic or a type of drug, I think there should be more knowledge. I don’t think ignorance is bliss,” Potter said. “Fostering any type of conversation about [psychedelics], in my opinion, is a good thing, and having a class to do that is a great start.”
Potter believes that students who are curious about psychedelic experiences should have ready access to information about what these substances are, how they work, and how to reduce harm.
“It’s always better to have a conversation about a difficult subject rather than not,” Potter said. “Rather than making something taboo, bring it into the light and let people openly discuss it and let reason win.” G
FEATURES
BY MINHAL NAZEER DESIGN BY ELIN CHOE
After nearly a full year as a college student, I can confidently describe myself as a peer pressure warrior.
I’m no stranger to spending nights with my friends in Dupont Circle, a notorious hotspot for Georgetown students on a night out. But most people wouldn’t guess that I do so without drinking.
My decision to remain sober at college is not an uncommon one, but it still elicits unsolicited questions from my peers. I also have to reaffirm the choice to myself, as I often find that my conviction leaves me isolated. I frequently wonder, am I missing out?”
When asked to describe college, most people would list all-nighters, one-dollar ramen, messy hookups, and partying. A party can be met with many interpretations, but the quintessential Georgetown party looks a lot less like someone’s parents’ basement and more like downing jungle juice in an affinity house backyard, already dreading the Sunday morning hangover in Lau. Around 80% of college students drink to
from drinking. A 2019 study revealed that even among children whose parents drink moderately, 35% named at least one negative effect of their parents’ drinking.
Others have religious foundations for their abstinence. Some Muslim students note that their sobriety is an act of obedience towards God.
“In Islam, there’s this idea of sacrifice, or submission towards God’s will,” Maya Mohosin (CAS ’27) described.
Islam is one of the more commonly known religions that prohibits drinking, but many other religions contain similar teachings grounded in the idea that alcohol induces a loss of self-control.
“I didn’t like the idea of not being fully in control of what I was doing. The forefront of my reason is the religious aspect, but on a secondary front is that loss of control,” Humza Husain (SFS ’26) said.
Choosing to never drink can seem like a daunting and irreversible choice. Ellie Kemper (SFS ’25) expressed that sobriety is possible no matter what your history with drinking is.
“I had my first drink when I was 15. By then, it was obvious that I was going to do this because everyone around me was doing it,” she explained.
it and to be mindful [of my sobriety],” Alexander said.
Similarly, Mohosin said that she often faces unfair judgment from peers when they first learn of her sobriety, assuming that she doesn’t like to party or have fun.
“Don’t treat me like a child. Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I don’t like to go out,” she added.
Choosing whether to drink is a personal decision that shouldn’t be influenced by the perspective of others around you. While others may pass judgement, your choices are ultimately yours and choosing whether to drink is part of the agency that comes with becoming an adult.
“College feels kind of suffocating. It feels like a lot of people are watching you, but, at the end of the day, lowkey nobody cares—or nobody should care what you do with your life and with your body,” Kemper said.
As for those naysayers who give you a hard time, Kemper thinks they should hold up a mirror to themselves.
“The only people who do care what you’re doing with your body are the people who are so insecure about themselves that they want to point their
It’s no secret that our beloved Jesuit institution isn’t the biggest fan of sex; just a few years ago, the Code of Conduct condemned staying the night with a sexual partner.
in Poulton Hall and the Women’s Center, located in the basement level of the HFSC.
Need to take an STI test?
“Cohabitation, which is defined as overnight visits with a sexual partner, is incompatible both with the Catholic character of the University and with the rights of the roommates,” the Georgetown Code of Student Conduct read as recently as the 2022-2023 school year.
Likely since the founding of our prestigious institution, students have been fucking regardless of university policy, though the current Code of Conduct no longer includes this language. So, if you’re a Hoya who’s taken a trip to the G-spot recently, here are the sexual health resources available to you on and off campus.
Looking for condoms and lube, anyone?
H*yas For Choice (HFC) has your back! While Georgetown-affiliated healthcare services don’t provide these items, HFC offers free condoms, dental dams (for oral sex), and lube to all members of the student body. On weekdays, you can find them tabling in Red Square or the Leavey entrance hall, depending on the weather. Or take a look around your dorm to find an envelope stocked with condoms on a HFC representative’s door.
CVS, Walgreens, and other pharmacies nearby also sell condoms and lube.
In need of other forms of birth control?
Due to Georgetown’s Catholic identity, the Student Health Center only provides hormonal birth control for medical purposes other than contraception, such as managing irregular or heavy periods.
Off-campus, Capital Women’s Care offers contraceptive services, including birth control and gynecological care, at their Foggy Bottom office. You can find a provider online at cwcare.net.
HFC also provides access to free emergency contraception, like Plan B.
Where can you find a pregnancy test?
Free pregnancy tests are available on campus at Health Education Services
Don’t fret if you think you might have caught something. According to Student Health Services, 25% of students have a sexually transmitted infection, so you’re not alone.
Student Health Services recommends that students get tested once a year if they are sexually active or every time they have a new sexual partner.
If you’re looking for a test on campus, the Student Health Center is a great place to start. You can schedule an appointment online or by calling in advance. Clinicians are confidential resources, so they will not tell anyone that you are taking a test or receiving treatment for an STI.
If you’re on your parents’ health insurance, tests might appear on the “explanation of benefits” letter from your provider. If you are concerned about your privacy, you can get free STI tests from the D.C. Department of Health at their clinic at 77 P St. NE.
You can also order a free at-home HIV or gonorrhea and chlamydia test kit at getcheckeddc.org. Pharmacies like CVS provide at-home testing kits for around $80.
The Student Health Center also prescribes pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP) for HIV prevention when medically indicated, such as for people with a high risk of contracting HIV.
Consent is key!
One of the most important parts of any type of sexual activity is having freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic, and specific consent.
The Sexual Assault Peer Educators team at Georgetown provides educational services on consent and creating a survivorcentric campus. You can learn more on their Instagram or by scheduling a free workshop for your student group or club.
Resources for instances of sexual assault or violence
For students who are experiencing or have experienced any type of sexual violence, including stalking, relationship violence, or sexual assault, there are resources on
and off campus that can help at sexualassault.georgetown.edu.
Confidential resources
Confidential resources will not report instances of sexual violence or assault to any others, including the Title IX office.
As part of Health Education Services, clinicians at Georgetown’s Sexual Assault, Response, & Prevention Services (SARP) team are confidential and provide support to survivors at Georgetown. To get in contact with SARP, survivors can email the SARP team at sarp@georgetown.edu to schedule a free appointment.
Other confidential resources include Counseling and Psychiatry Services and ordained clergy in Campus Ministry when they are acting in their pastoral roles. You can always ask about a staff member’s reporting status before sharing any information. Semi-confidential resources
Semi-confidential resources are required to report non-identifying information about the survivor and the instance of sexual assault or violence to the Title IX office. This includes staff at the LGBTQ+ Resource Center and the Women’s Center.
Reporting and non-confidential resources
Non-confidential resources are mandatory reporters, meaning they are required to report any misconduct to the Title IX office, including survivors’ names. The Title IX office will then contact a survivor via email, but the survivor is not required to reply. Reporting to the Title IX office is not the same thing as submitting a formal Title IX complaint.
Other non-confidential resources on campus include the Georgetown University Police Department, the Office of Student Conduct, Residential Assistants, and Georgetown faculty.
Off-campus resources
D.C. Forensic Nurse Examiners at MedStar Washington Hospital Center are trained in trauma-informed care. They can provide a free medical forensic exam, provide medications to prevent STIs, pregnancy, and HIV, and connect survivors with advocacy groups and other resources. Survivors can also call the D.C. Victim Hotline for a free Uber to the hospital at (844) 443-5732, which provides 24/7 support.
All of these resources are available to anyone, and regardless of how long ago something occurred, there are people willing to help. G
Who’s afraid of coming-of-age novels in school libraries?
BY EMILY TRAN DESIGN BY KATIE REDDY
My Australian high school library was one of the places I felt most secure. It was tucked away underneath the stairwell, almost like it was hidden from the rest of the world. In this sanctuary, I often found myself in the same reading ritual: cracking old book spines, flicking through dog-eared pages, tracing the etched title with my thumb.
The experiences of the protagonists in these books often mirrored the awkward growing pains that I experienced as an adolescent. Even when a novel’s plot drastically differed from my own life, the relatable sentiment of “feeling out of place” was often present in the books. Books with explicit content had precautionary labels. After my librarian scanned these books, they read aloud any themes in the book I should be aware of, and I would confirm whether I wanted to read it. At the time, I never thought twice about this process. But, as I learned more about book censorship in American schools, I realized that I was fortunate to have librarians just doublechecking whether I wanted to borrow a novel instead of being denied the option to read it entirely.
There has been a significant increase in book bans in the United States. Since 2021, PEN America has documented nearly 16,000 book bans in public schools across the country. With each book ban, it is not only the voices of their authors, but also the readers—including youth in the most formative time of their lives— who are silenced. Eliminating access to books dealing with topics of sex, mental health, gender, sexuality, and race from school libraries is Orwellian; it strips students of their autonomy and denies them access to crucial stories about adolescence. Banning books on the grounds of “obscenity” is not a solution to protect young adults. In fact, hiding materials that deal with taboo topics is more harmful than having them openly available to students.
PEN America’s most banned books list of the 2023-2024 school year encapsulates the concern that we are preventing adolescents from transitioning into adulthood by limiting the content they can read. There’s a pattern too: many of these books grapple
with the struggles of growing up. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky has been banned in 85 counties since it mentions LGBTQ+ identity. Tricks by Ellen Hopkins has been repeatedly challenged for its sexually explicit content. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini is often removed due to its “racially divisive” words. This book is one of the many stories that I grew up with. I vividly remember reading passages aloud in English class. In a classroom environment, it was particularly impactful, sharing how we felt about the friendships, guilt, and sense of closure explored. These books’ central protagonists are adolescents, experiencing the adversity and the internal battles that we, the readers, face at their age.
Reading a coming-of-age novel can make adolescents feel less isolated and finally understood. I know it did for me. Young readers can feel like they’re growing up with the protagonist of the novel, or even see themselves reflected in the characters.
Young adult literature explores a diversity of issues affecting teenagers, from sexuality to drug use to mental illness. Topics that may seem too taboo for adolescents to discuss in the classroom or at home can be communicated on the page. Exploring these themes, such as sexuality, is something that most adolescents will do, regardless of the taboo. Yet these themes and scenes that teenagers are living through cause young adult novels to be censored on the grounds of “obscenity.” Looking for Alaska is often banned for its sexually explicit descriptions. John Green, one of the most well-known authors in the comingof-age genre, argues that his book is subject to scrutiny because parents just read one page, a scene depicting oral sex, and report it to the school without understanding why it was included. On his YouTube channel, Green said that content was integral, exploring how intimate kissing can be more meaningful than emotionally empty oral sex.
Book bans have been further encouraged by the Trump administration. In January, the Department of Education
announced they were going to end what they call “Biden’s book ban hoax.” The department has dismissed complaints related to book bans, rejecting the argument that the removal of books from school libraries creates a “hostile environment for students.” Their denial of the detrimental effect that book bans have is unsettling, normalizing the notion that students shouldn’t have autonomy over what they read.
This book ban sweep is also reducing the representation of minority groups. For these communities, who are already facing increased hostility and marginalization due to the Trump administration’s attack on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, the erasure of stories that speak to them and reflect their identities is alarming. When books are pulled from the shelves, voices are silenced.
While every book might not appeal to every reader, this does not mean that they should be inaccessible to every student. Especially in a vulnerable time when I was transitioning from childhood to adulthood, reading these stories helped me make sense of this confusing world. It is inevitable that as we grow up; we will learn and experience things beyond the control of our parents or guardians. So, comingof-age novels must be accessible to adolescents. Shelves should be colored with our lived experiences. G
D1 in sports, A1 in music: The Fellas Band was born for the big stage
BY SAM LYNCH
DESIGN BY CONNOR MARTIN
Three football players and a soccer player walk into a bar…
But this is no joke. The Tombs is packed with Georgetown students ready to enjoy a live performance from the Fellas Band, and these four athletes have serious rock ’n’ roll talent.
The Fellas Band comprises Graham Hill and Shane Stewart on vocals, with Sebastian Alonso and Diego Letayf on guitar. Letayf, the soccer player, is the only one remaining on campus—Hill, Stewart, and Alonso, who played for Georgetown’s football team, graduated in 2024.
Alonso and Stewart started the group. Alonso played various instruments growing up and is always looking for a chance to jam. Stewart, his former teammate, loves to sing.
“Shane [Stewart] had posted a TikTok video of him singing and playing the ukulele,” Alonso told the Voice in a Zoom interview with the band. “I was like, ‘dude, we’re on the same team, we might as well see if I could play the guitar and you could sing.’”
Alonso and Stewart started playing together around their friends. Then, as Alonso recalls it, Stewart remembered Hill—his freshman roommate—also had a gifted voice, and encouraged him to join. Hill felt uncomfortable singing in front of people at first, but blossomed, backed by his buddies’ confidence. Just like that, the Fellas Band was born.
Alonso, Stewart, and Hill formed the core, with an assortment of football friends helping. When the football team won their first 2023 season game, the Fellas held a concert, filling a backyard with a crowd of parents, teammates, and close friends. Their dream of playing live was a rousing success.
“We all decided after that: we want to do that again,” Hill said.
According to Alonso, a Goodfellas poster in his Georgetown townhouse inspired the Fellas Band name, but also the welcoming quality the name conveys. “Going to see the Fellas” sounds like a casual time with close
friends, the exact feeling the band strives to create with its intimate pop-up shows.
But the band was not yet complete. Not many Georgetown students have more experience performing live music than Letayf. He performed for years with Brookside, a band of his high school friends, before Alonso asked if he wanted to give jamming with the Fellas a shot.
“Another teammate of mine had mentioned to me that there was another student-athlete who was an avid guitar player and enthusiast,” Alonso said. “I went up to Diego [Letayf] in the training room, which we all share and is a common place for all of us to meet in terms of different sports.”
Letayf loved the idea of playing music with other athletes, and they became fast friends.
“I didn’t know it would turn into something more serious, but it did,” he said.
The Fellas’ time together on campus was short, but they made the most of it. They launched an Instagram account, performing in Georgetown backyards throughout the 2023-2024 academic year. During the spring 2024 semester, they headlined the GUSYs (the annual celebration of Georgetown studentathletes), competed in the Battle of the Bands at Public Bar, and played at The Tombs twice.
“We had a good amount of excitement around [our performance at Tombs],” Hill said. “That show had really good energy.”
Alonso, Hill, and Letayf described the band’s music style as “countryalternative,” finding the most enjoyment in covering groovier, more sophisticated songs, but still loving the crowd’s reaction to the popular classics.
“Whenever we would play country songs like ‘Something in the Orange,’ [by Zach Bryan] or a song by Noah Kahan, it would hit,” Hill told the Voice
Sports and music share many of the same qualities, from perfecting one’s craft to the adrenaline rush of performing live
in front of fans. For those who do both, the connection is inherent.
“In any sport, once you get your first play out of the way, you know how comfortable you’ll be for the rest of it. I feel like it was the same for us; once we performed our first song, the nerves went away and we were just having a blast out there,” Alonso said.
Being a student-athlete at Georgetown requires a special commitment. With practices every day, games at least once a week, and frequent overnight travel on top of courses, not much time remains. For Letayf, this balance came naturally; rather than cause extra stress, it cured it.
“It honestly made things easier, because music is like therapy in a lot of ways,” he said. “For me, when there’s stressful times in sports, it’s super easy to get your mind off things by picking up the guitar and noodling around.”
When Hill discovered his love for songwriting, typing lyrics in his notes at night provided the same comfort. The group’s friendship also allowed them to lean on each other for support.
“We were together every single night,” Hill said.” It wasn’t hard to balance because it was such a priority throughout the year.”
The Fellas have gone their separate ways, but the spirit of their performances lives on. Their debut single, “Street Sign Named Grace,” released to streaming platforms on Feb. 21, 2025.
“It’s about receiving grace when you least expect it... we’re undeserving of it, but we receive it anyway,” Hill said.
And this is just the beginning; they have another song releasing soon.
The Fellas lead busy lives—Letayf still trains daily and travels for soccer, and the others have their own jobs. However, they hope spontaneous performances can occur once in a while.
“The Fellas are always gonna be more like a brotherhood—it’s like friendship, not like a serious job,” Letayf said. “I know we’re all gonna perform at each other’s weddings.”
Top 10 greatest rock songs of all time
BY ELIZABETH ADLER DESIGN BY MAGGIE ZHANG
Side B Side A
10. “Thunderstruck” – AC/DC
Like a lightning bolt from the heavens, this iconic guitar riff strikes with pure electricity. As Brian Johnson’s raspy wails thunder throughout the soundscape, a swirling storm forms, engulfing you in the force of nature that is “Thunderstruck.”
9. “Heroes” – David Bowie
Bowie’s boundless voice echoes on, cartwheeling through space and time. The song bursts with life as exuberant guitars swoop in, carrying the song with untouchable triumph. Even as it trails off, you can still feel its exhilarating energy coursing through your veins.
8. “Baba O’Riley” – The Who
From the cathartic vocals to the youthfully simple organ ostinato to the racing violin at its conclusion, “Baba O’Riley” is experimental yet simultaneously grounded in relatable themes of growing up, self sufficiency, and independence. Even before the lyrics begin, these motifs are conveyed through rousing, selfimportant piano chords, whisking you into an anthemic comingof-age story.
7. “All Along the Watchtower” – Jimi Hendrix Hendrix’s cover completely transforms this 1967 Bob Dylan song. Leaping from the harmonica-dependent acoustic simplicity of the original to an overdriven, smoky electric guitar haze, the song takes on a new life through Hendrix, completely redefining rock through the lens of psychedelia.
6. “Like A Rolling Stone” – Bob Dylan
4. “Free Bird” – Lynyrd Skynyrd
What starts out as a mellow Southern ballad explodes into a feverish frenzy of crashes and riffs as soon as Allen Collins’s fiveminute guitar solo takes flight. Containing arguably the greatest guitar solo in rock history, the latter half of the song moves without restraint, into deep nosedives, alarmingly sharp turns, and seat-gripping accelerations. “Free Bird” swerves into the fast lane, unrestrained by speed limits.
3. “Thirteen” – Big Star
Uncorrupted by complexity, pain, or the throes of adult life, the purity of “Thirteen” stands out amongst the rest of the genre’s fiery intensity. Starry-eyed guitar strums, Alex Chilton’s silky croons, and the gracefully simple lyrics waltz together, content in their minimalism. Achingly beautiful and timeless, this lullabyesque rock song explores the full extent of melancholy-tinged nostalgia. Among the coarseness of the rock genre, “Thirteen” is a flawless diamond, sparkling in its clarity, simplicity, and intentionality.
2. “Time” – Pink Floyd
Each jab of guitar, each suspenseful, hollow echo of drums, and each searingly pointed lyric paint a cohesive portrait of humanity’s perpetual struggle with time’s elusivity. As seconds slip by, lyrics land like knives, as honest as the disapproving tick of the clock. Guitars attempt to regain lost time in melodramatic wails of self-affirmation—“don’t end the song yet, I’m not done,” they plead. Each element of the song attempts to claw its way out of the confines of time, as humans do; it’s futile, but there is an art in trying.
Recognizable as soon as the organ clumsily tumbles into earshot, “Like A Rolling Stone” is the foundation of modern rock. The whirlwind of brash harmonica, quietly persistent tambourine, bold electric guitar, and Dylan’s signature cynical whines creates a perfect contrast between harsh and soft tones in a masterfully smooth blend of rock and folk.
5. “Born to Run” – Bruce Springsteen
As Springsteen brings his inspired imagery of the “runaway American dream” to life through impassioned yells of freedom, a symphony swells behind him: saxophones, tambourines, glockenspiels, and strings interwoven into quintessential rock instrumentation. The combination of sparkling orchestral excellence with gritty, passionate hard rock creates an unlikely success, resulting in a crashing tsunami of vibrant sound.
1. “Stairway to Heaven” – Led Zeppelin
“Stairway” is the pinnacle of rock music. You either love it, or you’re wrong. Sorry. Nothing compares to the slow burn of whimsically mythic instrumentation into that ethereal guitar solo that transports you to a higher plane of existence. As the song culminates in Robert Plant’s screeching battle cry and the mysteriously abrupt denouement, it truly feels like a stairway to heaven, a bridge to the sublime, a taste of the godly. G
