Hello. My name is Andrew Mabe, and I’m a music elitist.

I wasn’t always this way, and I still remain very low on the elitist food chain. But my problem is very real and must be dealt with before it gets any worse. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, or how, but there’s just something about my taste that I consider to be objectively better than yours. And yes, I realize how bloody arrogant that is. I’m admitting I have a problem, and I need your help.

Blame it on my short attention span if you’d like. Those hit singles being rotated on the airwaves only kept my ears interested for a few years.

If I fell in love with an unknown band and later heard rumors of it getting play on MTV, I felt as if my significant other had just committed adultery with half the world. I would go into denial for a short time, then completely reject the artist, waving the sell-out flag.

Yeah, I’m that guy.

Early on, I found myself smirking when looking through the music collections of friends. Gradually, it worsened. Soon, I was completely unaware of what was popular in mainstream entertainment. I found an uncontrollable desire to listen to music exclusively on vinyl.

I became an indie junkie, scouring the Internet for a fix daily. A hit of the drug called music to match my previous dose. My cravings made me into a hermit, since I would opt for hours of listening to obscure bands over social activity.

You may laugh, but this can be a serious problem. Elitism varies in levels of severity, but be on the lookout for loved ones who may have fallen victim to this epidemic.

Most of you probably have at least one elitist friend. If you don’t, the problem hasn’t spread as badly as I thought. If you need help identifying him or her, there are a few symptoms common to the disease.

When discussing movies with friends, watch out for the one who keeps referring to “films,” or, heaven forbid, “pieces.” You do not need to know what a “piece” is, so don’t ask. If this person seems to care more about the directors of these “films” than the plots, chances are, you’ve got a cinema elitist on your hands.

On car rides, no matter how short, your troubled elitist friend will get extremely fidgety and even squeamish at your choice of music, unless it is perfectly conducive to the mood he or she feels is appropriate at the moment. If that country tune you’re singing along to causes one of your passengers to throw himself from the vehicle, please be sensitive to his case of elitism, rather than offended.

We’re the ones who know an unhealthy amount of extra information about all the bands you’ve never heard of. We get excited about the unreleased EP by the side project of the drummer who used to play with the brother of the frontman of some other obscure band.

Of course, other elitists will disagree with me most passionately regarding my abnormal preferences. I even shock myself at some of the records held so dear to my heart in recent times. Elevator music, Britpop, Celtic, adult rock, European electrojazz — these were the sounds bringing my ears the most pleasure. And they were almost all styles I would have totally made fun of years ago, back in the days when I rapped along with the No Limit Soldiers and thought Limp Bizkit was the shiznit. It’s true. Just ask my acquaintances from high school.

Elitism can take all sorts of forms. The aforementioned symptoms are only a few examples with which I am familiar. I recognize them because I have seen them in myself.

Caution must be taken when confronting an elitist. It may be best to talk one-on-one and help him realize the issue on his own terms. Do your research before even considering an intervention. This may be the only solution, however, in extreme cases. The elitist may have developed the sickness because of his or her surrounding environment. I’m not trying to make a justification. I’m just asking you to understand.