Enjolras: Punk rock but not of the pop rock posing as punk. Suggest Green Day and Enjolras will roll his eyes. The Clash. The Dead Kennedys. The Ramones. NOFX. The Offspring’s debut album and nothing after. No Sex Pistols because Sid Vicious was a total ass-hat. On the flip side, folk. Woody Guthrie. Bob Dylan. His playlists are organized by political issue—the abortion songs, the anti-war songs, the anti-authority songs, critical of the government songs, anti-consumerism songs. You name it. And they span across all genres. He got teary once over Billie Holliday’s “Strange Fruit” but blamed it on hay fever.
Combeferre: Has little patience for dissonance. Prefers classical but is very picky about his composers. Beethoven over Handel. Mozart over Bach. Rachmaninoff over Stravinsky. He’s undecided about Gershwin. No Puccini. Will chuck you out a window if you even think about playing Madame Butterfly. Buys soundtracks to films he likes—Clint Mansell being his favorite composer. He saw the Chronos Quartet once but couldn’t enjoy it because Courfeyrac kept falling asleep.
Courfeyrac: Smooth is the operative word. Jazz, R&B, some Motown too—anything with a buttery vocals and a toe-tappin’ beat. Marvin Gaye. John Legend. Otis Redding. Some Beyonce and Whitney. Anything that’ll set the mood.
Feuilly: The Polka. He is also inordinately fond of Euro Pop. He once played Dragostea din tei 40 times in a row until Grantaire threw his radio out the window. Is a big fan of Conchita Wurst’s Rise Like a Phoenix.
Jehan: The Smiths. “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” was the definitive anthem of Jehan’s adolescence. Just don’t ask Jehan to choose between Johnny Fucking Marr and Morrissey. This is a question that can’t be answered.
Joly: It’s hard being pleasant all the time. So when no one’s looking Joly takes time for himself. Connects with his inner diva. On tough days, he has been caught in the call room shaking it to Aretha Franklin’s RESPECT, Adele’s Rolling in the Deep, and Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff. The last one may or may not have been filmed by Bahorel for posterity and blackmail purposes.
Bossuet: When your luck is as crappy as Bossuet’s is, you might as well dance (even if your limbs flailing about causes bodily injury, breaks valuables, or otherwise causes a chain of unpredictable events one has no control over). That time he boogied down to Pharrell’s “Happy”, he somehow set his kitchen on fire. That time he shook his moneymaker to Gangnam Style ended up in a mirror breaking and a twisted ankle. And ironically, his rendition of Men Without Hats’ “The Safety Dance” was extremely unsafe, resulting in a broken nose for Grantaire, a shiner for Courfeyrac and a pair of broken glasses for Combeferre. In a rare bout of sass, Enjolras declared Bossuet’s moves “dangerous, quite literally.”
Bahorel: Classic Rock and 80s hair metal/power metal. He struts down the street to Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” and Kansas’ “Carry on My Wayward Son” is his karaoke go-to. To pump himself up, it’s gotta be Europe’s “The Final Countdown”, complete with ridiculous poses, and Iron Maiden’s “Two Minutes to Midnight.” On the road he’s blasting Guns N Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle” and his idea of serenading a lady is howling a horribly off-key “Sweet Child O Mine.”
Grantaire: Somebody in this group had to bite the bullet and listen to Macklemore. He tried showing Enjolras the “Thrift Store” video but the chief just walked off rolling his eyes and told him to “grow up”, whatever that means. But the truth is Grantaire is a musical wanderer. He likes a little bit of everything and everything in between. That being said, he is the guilty indie hipster. Mumford & Sons. Black Keys. Avett Brothers. Arcade Fire and that band you’ve definitely never heard of. Also that band that everyone’s heard of, but Grantaire totally liked them before they were popular.
Marius: Somebody in this group of friends had to like Taylor Swift. And gangsta rap. There’s more to Marius than meets the eye.