Beat it: If Europe's so sophisticated, what's with the techno cheese?

As far as cultural obstacles, Europe's taste in music is a lot to stomach. Techno is celebrated everywhere and without question.

The pulsating chorus of electronic beats is indifferent to the types of obstacles that typically stifle unison in the not-so-United States.

Regardless of country, nationality, language or religion, techno can be found anywhere young people are but revels on a seemingly higher plane that has almost a spiritual value that people will defend to no end.

When the sight of a Bon Jovi video feels like a breath of fresh air, you know your American tolerance is reaching its electronica threshold.

As amazing as the architecture, rich history and diverse cultural immersions were, the disheartening emphasis many locals put on their music drove me to question the widespread idea that Europeans are more sophisticated cultural beings. How can a great culture support such a cheesy art?

Sure, Americans love bad music, too. Heck, Creed went multiplatinum. But when was the last time America identified around a single beat?

Perfectly respectable and educated English men and women will morph in front of your eyes into raging boozehounds at the mention of a preference for something other than techno. It's that important.

It's like a currency with an international pulse — it speaks everybody's language but ours. Indeed, it is the audible equivalent of the euro.

The bad music was my primary beef with Europeans during my recent trip.

But it wouldn't be fair to evaluate what I found to be Europe's single pitfall without considering what Europeans tend to think about their transatlantic counterparts.

Anyone who has traveled to Europe should already know: Bush isn't exactly seen as a Charlemagne or a Roosevelt overseas.

The sheer magnitude of graffiti in Rome directed toward our president was impressive. I'm not sure what Bush has done to instill misery in Roman youth, but the testimony of hateful scrawls stands as a stark reminder that Bush isn't winning any international popularity contests.

The drunken Spanish skater punks were willing to discuss American politics but didn't understand why Americans, for the most part, where so stupid. I kept reverting back to "dos mundos, una pais" (two worlds, one country), but mostly it seemed the Spanish think America is one messed-up country, with Los Angeles and New York hinged on the coasts.

The Germans I encountered looked the most like Americans: mostly fat and pale. But they seemed to share the same unfortunate, general impressions of America as the rest of the Western continent.

In Munich, a local I was chatting with broke it down as though America were the cool guy who lost all his friends. "America used to be a superpower," he said. "Now, America is a disgrace."

My trip provided a little perspective from one diminished civilization to another. Our society might be crumbling in Europe's eyes, but at least it won't be eroding to the beat of bad house music.

John Hieger is an '01 graduate of Central Washington University. E-mail: NEXT@seattletimes.com