Your favorite band sucks.

For a long time, that was my motto. Like Jack Black and John Cusack in “High Fidelity,” I considered myself an “unappreciated scholar” who knew more about music than everyone else.

Any time I was at a friend’s – or a total stranger’s – house, a thorough and blunt critique of their music collection was a matter of course with me. I was more than happy to give a lengthy dissertation on which bands were amazing and which were utter crap. Yeah, I was that guy.

Granted, the length of my musical tirades were often determined by how much Miller Lite had been consumed before I managed to stumble onto their CD collection, but that’s a story for another time.

But a funny thing occurred when I went home a few weekends ago and started going through the sizable pile of CDs I had left at my mom’s house. I came to the conclusion that I really wasn’t much of a music snob after all. Sure, I’ve been known to spend hours at a time on the Internet tracking down albums by Czechoslovakian grindcore bands, and I treasure my limited edition Crebain/Leviathan split CD, but I also have Radiohead, Led Zeppelin, Dr. Dre and every Weezer album in my collection. Not exactly the most underground artists out there. Hell, when I was a kid, my favorite album was “Thriller,” one of the biggest-selling records of all time.

To this day, there are many occasions when I wholeheartedly embrace pop music. When I’m down on Welch Avenue throwing back a couple brews, the last thing I want to hear is some underground band – I want Lynyrd Skynyrd, Johnny Cash and Everclear. That’s right, I said it – Everclear. I want something everyone can sing along and enjoy themselves to.

It occurred to me the reason I began to delve into the more obscure realms of music, particularly the heavy-metal genre, isn’t because I think knowing who Khanate and Birdflesh are will make me better or cooler than anyone else. It’s because I’m always searching for something new to listen to.

If the bands on Sony or Atlantic Records offered the same musical kick as Southern Lord or Relapse’s respective rosters, I would be all over them instead. I choose to write about these bands in the hopes someone who might not be exposed to them otherwise might read a preview story or CD review I’ve written and decide to check them out. I have no interest in being selfish with my music or keeping it a secret so I can play cooler-than-thou.

I’m not saying I’m completely cured. Chances are, I’m still going to scoff at you a bit if I catch you rocking out to Journey, and you’ll probably still have to put up with me drunkenly espousing the virtues of Norwegian black metal every once in awhile. Just don’t be surprised if you hear me singing along to “The Sweater Song” and “Sweet Home Alabama” afterwards.

– Joshua Haun is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Des Moines. He is an assistant Pulse editor.