The Allure of Those Who Rock

What is it about dudes on stage, with guitars, that seem to get women all a-lather? In any other setting, most would probably cross the street to avoid these guys, or perhaps, in a moment of pity, give them some spare change – but put them on stage, crank up the volume and they’re suddenly demi-gods.

Methinks sheer talent may not be the only reason. I think it’s the penis-to-eye-level ratio that speaks to some sort of primal craving at our evolutionary core – add a thumping bass, a few crotch-thrusts, and we’re back in the cave, dancing around the fire, eagerly answering our most basic desire to propagate the human race.

Also, the stage serves as a sort of makeshift altar. They’re up there, and you’re down here, amongst the unwashed masses (although those on stage are equally, if not more so, unwashed.) Think golden calf, and lemmings. If they’re all worshipping the weird dude with major split ends in his eyes and a constant fixation with tonguing the mike, well, shouldn’t you follow suit? Must be something pretty cool about the guy!

If they do indeed have actual musical chops and manual dexterity, well then, call the paramedics, right? Not necessarily. Can be too distracting. See exhibit A, every boy band EVER. Nary a musical instrument between them. And yet, there’s like 50 ambulances outside their shows. Teen girls, already so fucked up on hormones and just starting periods and confused and tweaked out as fuck on biological imperatives, see several incredibly non-threatening, somewhat androgynous physiques moving in a suggestive manner, almost but not quite looking in a mirror, expressing sexual possibility – well shit, that’s Intro to Masturbation 101.

So, to summarize: guys+stage+music+crotch thrusts equals ancient mating rituals from the dawn of time. We’re just answering the call of our ancestors. Hear that, Jared?

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