I’ve been slowly whittling down the playlist for my wedding reception for the past five years or so. Just to clarify, I didn’t want to get married at fifteen; it’s just the age when I realized how much the atmosphere can make or break the reception.
I’ve developed a short list of songs that are officially banned from my wedding. “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang and “We are Family” by Sister Sledge top the list. You might think, ‘But Dan, how can one truly enjoy a wedding reception without these bona fide funk classics?’ The answer: easily.
These “classics” are at the top of my shit list because of their ubiquity, not their musicality. Musically speaking, they’re excellent—I enjoy Bernard Edward’s basslines on “We Are Family” as much as the next enthusiast—but their choruses ruin them. “Celebrate good times, c’mon!” has been chanted at every wedding since 1973. It’s time to move on.
Fortunately, there is hope for the future of matrimonial music. My cousin’s wedding in Cincinnati two weekends ago was notably lacking in wedding music clichés; she walked down the aisle to Sigur Rós. Sufjan Stevens and Regina Spektor both crashed the “cocktails” playlist. And most importantly, the reception included both live music and an exceptional DJ, who reportedly spins for members of the Wu-Tang Clan. In short, the music selection was impeccable and my fifteen-year old self would have wanted to high-five my cousin like no other.
The emphasis on “modern” music did not come without consequences, though. As my mom pointed out post-festivities, no songs were played for anyone over 60—a significant portion of the attendees. My mother even spent five minutes accosting the DJ to play some Glenn Miller so that my 83-year-old grandmother could dance. The DJ hastily agreed to play something down-tempo and shooed my mom away. Unfortunately, by the end of the night the dance floor scoreboard still read Kanye West: 1; Glenn Miller: 0.
My mom was furious, and I can’t say I blame her. The atmosphere at a wedding should be one of collective enjoyment. People expect to hear popular music at weddings just as much as they expect two people to say “I do”—it’s a reaffirmation of cultural beliefs. Maybe we do need the “classics” to draw everyone into the celebration.
But given generational gaps in musical taste, pleasing everyone at a wedding reception seems increasingly unrealistic. There even seems to be a bell-curve at work—when you’re fifteen, everything played at weddings is lame (behind the times), and by the time you’re sixty, it’s largely alienating (off-the-radar).
So what’s to be done? I don’t want my grandmother to have to sit out my entire wedding reception. Thus, as much as I may want to keep the awful “classics” to a minimum, I’m ultimately going to have to include music that I simply don’t like. Here’s my new game plan: No “Celebration” and no “We Are Family,” unless someone over 60 explicitly requests it. Obscure 1940s-1950s artists are fair game—including Glenn Miller, whoever that is—and the sixteen-year-old who wants to hear the latest top-40 hit has a valid request as well, as long as it’s appropriate. But anyone who requests boy-band tunes from the mid-90s will be laughed at and probably asked to leave—regardless of age
