If you haven’t been to one of the Open Mic Nights held in Coffee Grounds, you should definitely plan on going to the next one; there aren’t that many events on campus that carry the same type of energy. I was skeptical too, I’ll admit it. No offense to Cam Segal ’20, who organized the event, but when I walked into Coffee Grounds last Tuesday, I was ready to laugh.
I did end up laughing, but for the right reasons. The sophomore rapper Cryptic had a gem of a line in his song Camp Conn: “Shout out to my POCs and my Hispanics / Shout out to my white girls too.” Everyone was dying of laughter, which is part of what makes Open Mic Night so special; the student audience is excited to see the talent that the campus has to offer, but there is absolutely no pressure to be talented.
At least, that’s the kind of environment Segal, who also MCs and performs himself, tries to create. “Music Night is a good venue for people to perform for their 100th time in front of a crowd or to sing in front of people for the first time,” he says. “It’s just a really fun night where no one is judging you and where people are accepted for who they are…whether somebody sings amazingly or messes up, the support and cheers are always consistent.” He’s not wrong.
Cam started organizing this event during his sophomore year at Conn, a year after attending the original Open Mic Nights which he describes as “less frequent, usually put together at the last minute, and never well attended.” The first one I went to was technically his seventh production, but the story behind the first Open Mic Night deserves to be mentioned. From the start, Cam wanted to create an event that would capitalize on the musical talent at Conn and “bring everyone together as a community.” His solution? Send an email to MOBROC—the student club under which bands practice and perform—introducing himself as a KB Floor Governor, of course mentioning the open tab in Coffee Grounds, and ending it with a Joe Namath-esque guarantee: “I fully intend that this is going to be the biggest/best music night in Coffee Grounds history.” You can’t make this stuff up.
I think it’s safe to say that Cam has continued to come through on that promise. At least, that’s my assessment after getting my Open Mic Night cherry popped. The first performance was by Emma Bennigton ‘20, who sang a hypnotic original song while playing acoustic guitar. At the beginning the audience was only about 30 people, which was perfect for her intimate strumming and soft voice. By the end there were over 120 people packed into Coffee Grounds—and the vibe was way different. The performers were shredding.
I got to see my first-year roommate, Oliver O’Neil ‘20, absolutely rip with his girlfriend, Darcy Whitman ‘22. The performed a song called Your Cat by the band Slaughter Beach Dog, which I had never heard before. It was really an incredible performance. I almost forgot he could play so well until I saw his familiar body buckling style of play. It was the kind of throwback moment you don’t ask for, but you end up really glad it happened anyway.
I also got to see kids perform who I didn’t know personally, but were legends among Open Mic Night devotees. A portion of the student band Boatweiler (and by portion I mean just Kevin Highland ‘21) played an original song that left me flabbergasted; the kid was unreal. Listening to him deftly dance around the neck of the guitar really made me pause and consider whether I had any talents of my own of that level. His lyrics were also shockingly poetic and I couldn’t help but wonder if he too was a fan of the recently departed David Berman. I almost asked him if he was a fan of Berman, but at the time I didn’t know his name. I turned to a short pink-haired girl sitting next to me and asked her if she knew the name of the kid who just played. I might as well have told her I killed her cat.
“Do you even go to this school? No, like, I’m genuinely wondering if you go here since you don’t know who Kevin Hyland and Boatweiler is.” I don’t know if Cam even realizes that his events have sprouted Conn’s counter culture —a unique, pink-haired and slightly odd music scene that probably wouldn’t exist if not for this event —but hopefully he’ll start to take some credit for that once he reads this piece.
The last act I saw was a 3-member first year band called The Couch, who played an original song that was the only one I actually caught the name of: “This Night Alone”. This was by far the best performance of the night. The amount of skill and energy on that stage, for a bunch of first-years nonetheless, was ridiculous. I sat there watching a first-year no taller than 5”5’ with a camo jacket and a red bandana tied between one of his belt loops, sing about how he needed a good looking woman to slap him in the face. His taller, lead-guitar playing counterpart accompanied him and flexed a little during his solo by adjusting the amplifier volume with one hand and parading through finger-taps with the other. It was dirty, intense, and fun. I turned to the pink-haired girl next to me—“So what are these guys’ names?” She admitted she didn’t know —but confirmed that she did in fact go here.
Coffee Grounds turns into a whole different type of space during the Open Mic Nights. You’re still surrounded by the same red and peach walls and the same smells of coffee and baked goods. But when the performers start playing, the atmosphere in the room changes. Baristas don’t stir, phones go dark, and if anyone’s talking they’re praying nobody else can hear them. Everything stops.
I spent my spring semester of Junior year abroad, and being away from places like Coffee Grounds for about a year, living off campus, and not being able to recognize a majority of my classmates by face for the first time since arriving at Conn, has left me feeling a little disconnected from the larger campus community. In a lot of ways, my first month back here at Conn has made me feel like a first-year: reclusive and in my own head. It doesn’t help that many of my friends have either graduated or transferred, a decision I also heavily debated during my sophomore year —mostly over my fear that it was too late for me to have my “camel moment.”
I don’t know why, but that Open Mic Night turned into a camel moment for me. I made a lot of first impressions. I saw kids I had never seen or spoken to do things I would have never guessed they would have been able to do. I also saw people whom I had seen in passing do those same things, and came to the epiphany that I actually had to talk to them to get to know more about them. As I sat there in Coffee Grounds, thrilled by the most talented student performances, I finally realized I was on a beautiful campus surrounded by wonderfully talented people —and you can’t ask for much better than that. •
