The lights are dimmed in a full hall. Seven musicians walk onstage, modestly acknowledging the crowd with waves and nods as they set up binders full of sheet music on their stands. The excitement in the crowd can be felt as the cellist bows the opening riff and a percussionist joins in. Finally, there is that chaotic, yet harmonious moment where everyone on stage is playing and the show has begun. Audience members exchange glances and giddy smiles.

Are these guys virtuosos? Rockstars? Perhaps they’re a bit of both. They are The Gentlemen of NUCO, a group of seven music students known for their creative arrangements of Radiohead’s entire OK Computer album, as well as those of other pop and alternative rock songs. The group was created during Bienen senior Josh Fink’s freshman year, when he brought his arrangement of Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone” for bass, two violins and a cello to his chamber orchestra (Northwestern University Chamber Orchestra, or the NUCO in “The Gentlemen of NUCO”) rehearsal. He asked Bienen fourth-year junior Henry Wang and seniors Hugh Palmer and Charles Asch — the only other guys in the orchestra — to play it with him.

Soon the group started practicing informally — Fink arranged songs and they performed them in the lobby of Pick-Staiger, where their impromptu performances “grated on the nerves” of the staff.  To counter this, The Gentlemen gained the support of their orchestra conductor Dr. Robert Hasty and drafted a half-serious “founding document” which proclaims that The Gentlemen of NUCO’s mission would be “to play the genre of rock and roll set to a classically influenced arrangement.”

The creation of this document — which had no technical purpose (it’s typed in an important-looking script font on laminated paper, held in a tattered purple folder) — marked the beginning of the Gentlemen’s transformation from an informal, offbeat music group into a lively addition to Northwestern’s campus entertainment scene.

By December 2007, The Gentlemen of NUCO acquired a violist, Bienen fourth-year junior Yoshihiko Nakano, and two percussionists, Bienen fourth-year juniors Corey Bertelsen and Patrick Slevin and put on their first full concert in which they performed Fink’s arrangements of every song on Radiohead’s OK Computer. Through ticket sales, they raised roughly $1,150, which they donated to Oxfam, a worldwide charity.

“We wanted to be able to concentrate on the music without dealing with publicity or money,” Fink says. “We wanted to give back, because we’re aware of what’s going on around us.”

This year, the Gentlemen have grown in popularity. They raised about $1,750 for SEED and enjoyed full houses on both nights of their “Hail to the Thieves” show this winter. They also performed at a screening of a Radiohead documentary at the Block Museum. While the Gentlemen are beginning to gain a fan base on campus that has finally stretched beyond the borders of Regenstein Hall, Fink attributes part of his group’s success to the genius of Radiohead itself.

“OK Computer is flawless in terms of its ability — there’s not one mediocre song on the album. Every one is a masterpiece in itself,” Fink says. “When I listen to OK Computer I can just see how it works within the ensemble. I’ve been searching for another album [to arrange] and there just isn’t one like it.”

The classically trained Gentlemen’s act tries to stay true to Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke’s visions. According to Fink and Asch, their group adds an experimental twist to their classical/rock fusion while still maintaining an intimate atmosphere and connection with the crowd. The Gentlemen’s goal is not to exactly replicate the songs that they cover, Fink says, but to add to them and give them a different feel.

“Radiohead really has only one dynamic. We have an infinite amount,” Fink says. “There are so many things you can do with the arrangement, it’s endless and much more colorful.”

“We think Thom Yorke would be proud,” adds Asch with a smile.

The Gentlemen percussionists have been known to create unique sounds using unique objects, but Fink says that this isn’t done purely for creativity’s sake. “We’re not the first to put a bass bow to a xylophone. It’s not about that. It’s knowing what you want in your head and doing whatever it takes to achieve that sound.”

The Gentlemen of NUCO will do just that at their performance this Saturday at 8:30 p.m. in the Vail Chapel, benefiting the student film The Instrument Man. Their show will feature old Radiohead favorites as well as arrangements of songs by Sigur Ros, Sufjan Stevens and The Arcade Fire.

Although four of the seven Gentlemen are mere months from graduation and two will attend graduate schools outside Chicago, Fink insists that their group will continue to perform and rehearse whenever possible. The group has even gotten several requests to play Radiohead songs at weddings this summer, and The Gentlemen have dreams of performing at colleges over the summer and fall.

“Right now, we just want to be discovered. Anything is possible,” Fink says.

“There will definitely be reunion tours,” Asch says.

Correction Appended

I’m not a morning person, but on a frigid Monday morning last winter, I did the unthinkable. I rolled out of bed at 6 a.m., suited up in my warmest winter clothes and trudged to Norris with three friends. Sure, Norris wouldn’t open until 8, and Flight of the Conchords tickets wouldn’t even go on sale until 10:30, but that didn’t matter. We needed those tickets. Apparently so did the 10 people already in front of us in line at this ungodly hour.

Even though it may sound miserable to camp out in the cold for hours, waiting in line was one my favorite memories of last year. So while many were glad to hear that the new online ticketing system would allow them to purchase Demetri Martin tickets naked from the comfort of a dorm room or in class, I was dismayed to hear that the thrill of my ticketing experience was going to be reduced to the clicking of a button.

But as it turned out, things weren’t even that simple. From the abrupt ticket limit changes to having to register on the Norris Web site to glitches and misunderstandings in the system, there was plenty wrong with the ticket sales this time around. “The sold-out message started going up around four or five minutes after the tickets were sold,” Weinberg sophomore Barry McCardel, A&O productions promotions and public relations co-chair told North by Northwestern last Monday. “Some students maybe refreshed their browser because they thought that it was lagging or something, so they had tickets in their shopping cart that got held for 20 minutes.” Perhaps the new online ticketing system could have used a test run before it was employed to sell tickets for one of the most popular shows of the year.

What was really wrong with the old system, anyway? Regardless of whether tickets are available at the box office or online, people will always have midterms, no Internet access or something else that prevents them from getting a ticket—the online system will never be able to change that.

And what’s more distressing is that with all the web confusion, many die-hard fans were left without tickets, while others with fast index fingers got tickets to a show they essentially knew nothing about. At least the old system insured that those who wanted the tickets the most could get them if they tried hard enough. I’ve heard tons of stories from crestfallen fans left without tickets (unless they want to pay a high price for a scalped one), and I know others who got tickets for the hell of it and are now only excited because “this Demetri Martin guy is apparently a hot commodity.” It doesn’t seem fair.

But glitches aside, what I’ll miss the most if the ticket system permanently switches to the web is the experience and the tradition of waiting in line. Why do you think Duke students camp out overnight year after year to get tickets to Duke vs. UNC basketball games or Cornell students pitch tents in a gymnasium for hockey season tickets? For them, it’s as much about getting the tickets as it is about the experience of camping out. While waiting for Flight tickets, we shivered together, guzzled coffee together and shared in the culture of fandom. It was exciting to be passionate enough about something to wait in line in the cold for it. Together, my friends and I gawked (we smirked greedily) at the line forming behind us—it went from Norris’ front door, down to the library and beyond.

And camping out was a big part of cultivating my excitement for the Flight show—it was nearly impossible not to be excited, with people all around me singing “Business Time” and quoting their favorite lines. And even though I know I’ll feel jittery with delight when I take my seat at Pick-Staiger on Thursday, I have yet to truly to feel the gravity of the fact that my favorite comedian is coming to Northwestern. This time, there was no collective shivering and excitement, no tradition of waiting in line, and much less of the hype and the buildup.

So even though I’m usually all for progress, this time I just wish the ticket system would maintain the status quo.

This story originally attributed the new online ticketing policy to A&O, but the system was not A&O’s idea.

In other words: FUCK YEAH.

When A&O brought the Flight of the Conchords to perform last winter, I believed that my life was complete. But as I camped out outside Cahn hours before the doors opened, sharing headphones with a friend and listening to Demetri Martin’s new comedy CD (basically pregaming FOTC with laughter), my new obsession was born. Because seriously, who else can spout out lines like “A squirrel is the same as a can… when there’s a BB gun in my hand” and get laughs out of it besides Demetri?

With the premiere of his new Comedy Central show Important Things with Demetri Martin Wednesday, it’s fitting that A&O has just announced plans to bring the hilarious master of one-liners to Northwestern. Martin was an excellent choice: He’s gained cult popularity but is now on the verge of drawing a mainstream audience — and what better place to expand a fan base than at a college campus? Given A&O’s popular past choices (FOTC and The Office’s B.J. Novak, among others), choosing Martin was a logical extension.

The man, the myth, the haircut. Photo by wannabehipster on Flickr, licensed under the Creative Commons.

In fact, Martin may even be a more universal choice than Flight of the Conchords. All that crazy singing that Flight puts on might be too much for the less-adventurous, whereas Martin’s act is less intimidating and less theatrical. And while Flight came to perform during the burgeoning popularity of their new TV show, Martin has yet to gain that fame. He’s up for grabs; we can claim that “we found Demetri Martin before he hit it big,” and that’s appealing. It’s difficult to not find him lovable, too. His Mitch Hedberg-esque practical humor is relatable to just about anyone, and to make it even better, it’s earnestly delivered by a Yale grad with puppy eyes and a bowl haircut.

Now, I was initially concerned that Martin wouldn’t have much new material for us. Since his one-liners are often repeated from one show to the next, it’s possible we might hear some old jokes. However, given the new TV show and new tour, I’m willing to bet that we’ll be hearing at least some brand new material. Cue another round of “Fuck yeah.”

And it gets better: No one needs to form a 7 a.m. line outside of Norris, because ticket sales will be online for at least the first day. Martin and FOTC have a similar sense of humor and a crossover fan base, so it’s likely that the show will sell out in record time. So if you want to see Martin, stay chained to your laptop waiting for the second tickets go on sale … or don’t, so that I have a better chance of getting one.

Here I was, in the Negev desert, and it seemed so surreal. Mountains of sand surrounded me, and the only semblance of civilization for miles around was the set of ingenious yet not-so-comfortable Bedouin tents set up for us to sleep in, with their straw roofs and dusty interiors.

And camels! No one ever tells you that they can roar. I had been looking forward to riding a camel, because to me it seemed that doing so would be the pinnacle of my trip to the exotic Middle East. We’d bop along on a bumpy camel ride, and it would be just like I was in Aladdin. But here they were — dirty, grotesque camels that seemed vicious — not at all what I expected.

In fact, my entire trip to Israel with Birthright was not what I envisioned. Birthright is an organization that sends Jewish young adults ages 18 to 26 to Israel on an educational trip for free. Many colleges even organize Birthright trips through Jewish organizations on campus, so I went with Northwestern and University of Chicago students on what was to be my gift from the Birthright Israel Foundation.

I’d heard stories of people who went on Birthright and had a spiritual experience — they connected with their faith and came back to the States as practicing Jews. I’m Jewish, but I stopped being religious after my Bat Mitzvah. I identify myself as culturally Jewish: my parents make chicken soup on Rosh Hashanah, and we have a nice dinner, but I don’t go to services or have a Passover Seder. I’ve done those things in the past because I learned how to in Hebrew school, and because my parents probably felt that they should keep up with the Jewish traditions that I was being taught. But as I grew older I realized that I had practiced Judaism perfunctorily, without truly believing. I had practiced because I was taught that that’s what I should have been doing.

So while I appreciate the shared traditions that Judaism has allowed me to participate in, I participate in them without much religious attachment. I didn’t go on Birthright to find my faith in this religion, but I did expect that going to Israel would be a far more spiritual experience for me than it ended up being.

After all, we were told over and over again in Hebrew school about the Holy Land of Israel: our ancestors fought for it, and they still fight today for this sacred piece of land not much larger than twice the size of Rhode Island. As a Jew, how could I visit Jerusalem and the Western Wall, the symbol of Jewish persistence that survived since 19 B.C.E., without feeling moved?

Standing in front of the Western Wall with a pen and piece of paper in my hand, ready to write down a wish or prayer to slip in between the bricks as is custom, I had no idea what to wish for. Women prayed with their heads to the wall, and others on my trip slid their notes into the old stones with tears in their eyes. One woman even prayed and cried with her cell phone to the Wall, presumably so that a loved one could virtually pray at the Wall, too. I understood historically why this wall was special, but seeing everyone around me clearly being moved spiritually made me feel like I should be crying and praying, too.

Instead, I felt like I was sightseeing, and that the Western Wall was just another tourist stop on my trip, much like the Dead Sea. We went to the Dead Sea because it was an attraction, not a religious landmark.

In fact, the highlights of my Birthright trip ended up being the activities that were the most cultural and least religious. While climbing Mount Masada and watching the sun rise over the Dead Sea, I felt at peace with myself. Touring the fortress atop Masada and seeing ancient ruins made an impact on me for their historical importance, not for their religious significance.

As I floated in the pristine Dead Sea with my head to the sky, it didn’t matter to me that every cut on my body stung in the salt water. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t cry at the Western Wall or that I didn’t connect spiritually to Judaism. The feeling of serenity I felt while effortlessly floating in a body of water alive only with the bodies of other tourists around me made me realize that I like being culturally Jewish, and nothing more.

My Birthright experience was not at all a letdown, despite the fact that the trip was entirely different than my expectations. While I wasn’t totally convinced that Israel could be a second home to me, (it was a bit alarming to be greeted in Ben Gurion airport with signs that exclaimed, “Welcome Home Birthright Bus 787!”) the country grew on me. And while I struggled to feel at home and connected to a land so unfamiliar to me, I realized that Israel would accept me even if I decided to never go to synagogue.

At Northwestern, when people asked me if I was Jewish, I would feel like an impostor when I said I was. But in Israel, I learned not to be ashamed of being “culturally Jewish.” In fact, I felt more comfortable being culturally Jewish in Israel than I did in the States.

So the next time someone expresses surprise when they find out that I’m Jewish, I don’t need to stutter and say, “Well, sort of.” I can say “yes” without an explanation. I no longer define being Jewish by how many times I’ve been to synagogue or I how well I can recite the call to prayer. Going to Israel made me realize that no matter what I do or don’t do as a Jew, I have an identity and a place in this religion.

Dan DeSalva was thrilled to receive a thick envelope from Northwestern in the mail last December. After reading and re-reading his acceptance letter and notifying his family of his Early Decision acceptance, he promptly joined the Facebook group for Northwestern’s class of 2013.

DeSalva noticed something unsettling: The group’s creator, Justin Gaither, was also responsible for “Class of 2013″ Facebook groups at various other universities. He had heard of others getting messages and friend requests from Gaither, and while the situation certainly seemed creepy, he didn’t think much of it.

Brad Ward, the Electronic Communication Coordinator in the Office of Admission at Butler University, was also suspicious of the creator of his university’s 2013 group, Patrick Kelly. He looked up the name on Butler’s database and found that Kelly had neither applied to nor been accepted by the university. After more searching, Ward learned the creators of various groups for next year’s college freshmen were employees of College Prowler, a company that publishes guidebooks “for students by students” for American universities.

Ward broke the news Dec. 18 on his higher education blog, and within hours his post received a flood of comments, including one from Luke Skurman, CEO of College Prowler. Ward’s discovery raises many questions about privacy and misrepresentation on the Internet.

According to Skurman, College Prowler intended to use the Facebook groups as a marketing tool. The plan was for all group members to receive a message urging them to check out College Prowler’s free online database offering tips from students at over 200 universities regarding anything from a school’s party scene to the attractiveness of its students.

However, these messages were never sent, and it didn’t help that College Prowler did not announce its presence in each group. The breaking news on Ward’s blog led to speculation about what information, exactly, College Prowler sought from these students and why they couldn’t be up front about obtaining it.

“In hindsight, I think we definitely did not do an effective job disclosing what our intentions were…that’s where we failed,” Skurman said in an interview, adding that College Prowler employees never messaged any group members, friend-requested anyone or wrote on the walls.

While Skurman claimed “full responsibility” for the incident, he noted that his company unwisely teamed with Match U, a company similar to College Prowler and in its early stages of development. He said that while the two companies made an agreement to simultaneously control the Facebook groups, Match U employees were the only ones adding students as friends and creating the fake profiles that DeSalva described.

“When we got wind of what Match U was doing, we immediately removed ourselves from the groups,” Skurman said. Match U representatives could not be reached.

Skurman insists that his company never aimed to take advantage of students.

“We are a company created by students, for students,” he said. “We would never do anything that would spam them or harm them.”

Ward noted that perhaps a bit more openness could have prevented the controversy.

“I think if they had been more transparent, even a small tag of ‘This group sponsored by College Prowler’, the situation would not have been as big,” he wrote in an e-mail.

Many students at Northwestern expressed ambivalence upon hearing about College Prowler’s presence in their groups.

Upon discovering that the original Northwestern group was deleted after the incident, incoming freshman Ally Byers created a new group to ensure that it was run by real students. She thinks that incidents like this are a natural byproduct of social networking sites.

“I probably should care more than I do about what information is on my profile,” she said. “But I still want to get to know people in the group.”

While Byers acknowledged that the incident has certainly made her more aware of what information strangers can access on her profile, she’s not about to deactivate her Facebook completely.

“Now, I just make sure that information like my address, phone number and other contact information aren’t listed,” she said.

Ward believes that while College Prowler may not legally be in the wrong — and did not violate Facebook’s Terms of Use since the groups’ creators were not impersonating students — there are higher standards of moral conduct, even on the Internet.

“I think the main concern surrounding the situation was the lack of authenticity and transparency,” Ward said. “While they may not have done anything wrong legally, there is always the ethical dilemma of what’s right and wrong on the Web.”

Steven Duke, an associate professor at Medill who teaches a course on the Internet and the changing media landscape, says that one of the consequences of the digital age is increased accountability for one’s online actions.

“Because of the Internet and the research capabilities we have now, you can’t get away with things like this anymore,” he said. “[Brad Ward] did a journalistic job [by exposing College Prowler]. He wasn’t necessarily a journalist, but he ended up doing a journalist’s job.”

A year ago, I was just a nervous freshman scouring Bed Bath & Beyond for the perfect shower caddy. I didn’t predict then that following year, I would be sporting a traffic-cone orange Wildcat Welcome t-shirt as I shepherded my own group of fifteen freshmen through the first week of their college career. But, besides the daunting task of moving freshmen into their dorms (did they really think a girl with no upper body strength could carry a mini-fridge up four flights of stairs?) Welcome Week as a peer adviser so far has been more than a positive experience – it’s been a big learning experience, too.

When you’re a freshman, you get used to the general awkwardness of move-in day and Wildcat Welcome. But things are different when you can’t play the “freshman card” during uncomfortable situations. As I carried boxes up what always seemed like ten flights of stairs, I watched mothers get into their last fights with their daughters over how many clothes she brought. I saw prideful fathers turn down our help, while other parents demanded our labor as if we were their servants. Once or twice, a parent even confided in me and asked how I dealt with the whole move-in and roommate experience. Suddenly, I was the teacher and not the student.

As a freshman, Wildcat Welcome certainly didn’t leave me knowing everything there is to know about this school. After all, after you experience a deluge of information in a short time, some is bound to fall through the cracks. I understood the importance of CAESAR, yet I could never quite figure out why such an important system would be allowed so many glitches. For the longest time I thought Sig-O was a sorority, not the female a cappella group, Significant Others.

But now, having the job to educate freshmen on everything and anything they could possibly be curious about (with the exception of promoting alcohol, drugs and Greek life) I realized that teaching them all these things has actually helped me learn. After helping them all search for classes, I can probably rattle off all of the distribution requirements and exemptions for AP credits. These were things I had only vague knowledge of before. Now that I’ve served as the adviser, I know Northwestern more closely than I would have if I hadn’t taken on this role.

I entered Essential NU as a peer adviser with a crossword puzzle on my lap and a pen in my hand, and yet I found myself surprised that the Sex Signals performance was actually funny and informative. While having to lead a discussion about alcohol abuse seemed like a time when I’d have to act more like a parent than a peer, sitting down with my advisees and having an honest conversation about safety was (hopefully) more effective because I am, in fact, a peer. What I sometimes thought was silly, unimportant and repetitive when I was advisee, I now see had tangible value.

So while it might have been helpful if my advisees learned the fight song at the now-defunct Spirit 101 instead of at the football game yesterday, there’s definitely time for them to pick it up. Some might expect us peer advisers to know everything — that you have been everywhere and that you can answer every question. But the truth is, even though I now supposedly know everything about Northwestern, I went to Lisa’s Cafe for the first time yesterday and I still have yet to swim in Lake Michigan.

For this week, I’ll put on my orange t-shirt and act the part of Northwestern know-it-all. I’ll pretend I know my way around Tech and that I’ve seen the underground tunnels. But oddly enough, I’m more confident now than ever that there’s still so much left to learn.

You tell yourself you’ll sell them back, but are you getting a good deal? Prices differ greatly between the three most popular textbook emporiums at Northwestern: Norris, Beck’s and Amazon.com. It’s easy to always go to the same place, but you can save yourself serious cash by being smart about where you buy and sell your books.

If you really want to save, look into selling back your books over that vast series of tubes we call the Internet. While buying and selling your books online is potentially unreliable and inconvenient, what with shipping costs (although Amazon actually has free shipping for orders over $25), it is potentially far more profitable. It’s easy to make safe purchases by checking buyer and seller consumer ratings, and you don’t have to go through the hassle of selling the books yourself, says Weinberg freshman Anil Wadhwani, who sells textbooks for students. While Wadhwani admits that Amazon is a great resource, he says it doesn’t always give you the best deals.

“It’s better to find friends who are taking classes you took and sell your books to them,” he says. “That way, you know that you can trust your buyer, and you don’t have to deal with shipping costs. It’s a better deal all around.”

To get a better picture, we chose four popular classes — Intro to Psychology, Modern Cosmology, Organic Chemistry and Intro to Macroeconomics — and compared the textbook prices at Norris, Beck’s and Amazon. (Note that used-book prices at Amazon fluctuate.)

Some trends emerge. For these books, at least, Norris never offers the best deal, while Amazon’s used books can prove to be a bargain.

A creepster who’s perfected the art of the Shady Man Mating Dance. Take note of the artfully exposed chest hair, scruff-and-stache combo, and quasi-wistful expression of mystery. Photo by jason.lengstorf on Flickr, licensed under the Creative Commons.

If your preference is older men, look no further than Evanston’s very own The Keg. These creepsters can often be spotted in their natural habitat, sulkily lurking around the dance floor looking for younger prey (girls around their daughters’ age). This breed of creepster is quite a dependable species, so if you don’t find your Mr. Creepy on the first Keg excursion, there’s always next Monday to meet another!

If older men aren’t for you, the Northwestern 2012 Facebook group is a great place to start looking for those baby-faced heartbreakers. Here you’ll find high school seniors eager to find a way into your wise and experienced heart. Comparing SAT scores and “playing the question game” are two great ways to warm up a prospie before really getting to know them. These creepsters-in-training are extra-great if you’re a multi-tasker — you can have your lover while simultaneously honing your peer advising and babysitting skills on the side.

Some girls complain that since Northwestern is a major university, they can’t find that motorcycle-riding bad boy that they’ve been looking for. Ladies, look no further than Burger King. While chances are high for sighting a bad-boy-creepster even in the daytime, these relatively nocturnal creatures come out in droves at the prime hour of 2:30 a.m. Just be careful that the police don’t find them first.

If you prefer a more introverted breed of creepster, you can find one right here on campus in the Plex Dining Hall. Since everyone in Plex lives in singles, these brooding introverts are eager for some love and human contact. They are easily approachable because they hardly ever sit in groups, so pull up a chair and strike up a conversation. This might be easier to do in the East dining hall, where you can casually say something like “What sauce are you putting on your pasta?” in the made-to-order line. As an added bonus, maybe you’ll get invited back to his single, and you’ll never have to worry about sexiling a nonexistent roommate.

If you’re not into starting a relationship, joining your regional network on Facebook is sure to attract a less-committed creepster. He’ll probably peruse your profile and poke you (and we all know what that means). If it’s been a day and you haven’t gotten a poke yet, try using a more seductive profile picture. Ditch that picture of you and your friends all sweaty at DM for a close-up of you looking your best. You might want to browse through the MySpace graveyard for inspiration. It should also be noted that since creepsters are quite paranoid, they will always believe you’re hiding something. In order to gain his trust, understand that the less clothes you wear in the picture, the more honest you’ll appear.

But don’t be frightened, because if you’re not looking for something serious it’s easy to turn down this virtual flattery. Just remove him from your friends list or block him from your profile. Getting rid of a creepster can be just as easy as finding one in the first place.