The Luv Doc: Lo-Fi Beats

Dear Luv Doc, 

Is it a red flag if the person you’re seeing brings a Bluetooth speaker to the spillway at Barton Springs? I was having a perfectly lovely, meditative afternoon pretending I don’t live in a capitalist hellscape, and my date decided to blast a “Lo-Fi Beats to Study/Relax To” playlist. I feel like this is a fundamental personality flaw, right up there with not returning your shopping cart or voting for a third-party candidate in a swing state. Is there a polite way to tell him that the only soundtrack I want at the Springs is the sound of splashing dogs and distant drum circles?

– Seeking Silence in the 78704

Call me old school, but I don’t think I would bother drawing a distinction between “Lo-Fi Beats” and “distant drum circles.” I’d say it’s kind of a tomato/tomahto type deal. In fact, I would maybe give the Bluetooth speaker the edge for being slightly less awkward than a drum circle. Definitely more relaxing. Even a distant drum circle creates mild anxiety. Don’t think so? Then maybe you haven’t considered the fact that when you hear a distant drum circle, there’s always a chance that distant drum circle might move closer to you. I’ve had it happen. You’re just sitting there, drinking tequila on a lawn chair behind your band van, and all the sudden a gaggle? Throng? Congress? Oh wait … no, a circle of gorgeously tanned, dreadlocked, (let’s be honest) mostly dudes shows up and explores an unsettling variety of rhythmic soundscapes that should have been preceded by a flyer through your mailbox or some sort of strict public permitting process.

Look, I am not against percussive freedom per se, but exploring rhythms is not a victimless endeavor any more than having to witness some random, lusty couple explore their sensuality on a picnic blanket within my purview. I get it. Public spaces sometimes involve public interactions, but we can’t deny there are certain norms of behavior. I might feel similarly if my tequila drinking was interrupted by a roving band of mariachis, a self-impressed magician, or a convincing mime. “Dude, I was sort of having a moment here. Could you please go back down those imaginary stairs long enough for me to finish my tequila? You and that top-hatted chap are crowding the mariachis.”

Also, while we’re at it, perhaps the idea of a meditative afternoon at the Barton Springs spillway might be a bit optimistic. I mean, there was probably a time when the “free section” of Barton Springs wasn’t a hot Instagram tip everyone was sleeping on … I’m guessing the early Nineties … but these days if you’re looking for a meditative afternoon near the water, Walter E. Long Metropolitan Park is a can’t-miss destination for solitude. Is the water a little murky? Sure. Is the lake itself just a cooling pond for the Decker Creek Power Station? Undoubtedly. Are the rumors of three-eyed fish and alligators true? That’s not for me to say, but one thing is certain: Ain’t no drum circles. Near or distant. Just lots of peace and quiet custom-made for deep meditation.

All that said, yeah, I agree with you that bringing a Bluetooth speaker … certainly anything that puts out more than a couple of watts, is a D move. Like most people, I appreciate other people’s desire to share the music they love with the rest of the world. It’s really the execution of that sharing that can become problematic – like the anonymous person in the car who shares their love of fender-rattling trap music most mornings on the street outside my house at 6:30am. I haven’t bothered to make a positive ID because I am always busy rage-screaming into my pillow. I just know that person exists and wants me to know it. Fuck it. It’s a lonely world out there. If you can connect with someone in a positive way through an unsolicited torrent of trap music, who am I to sleep in your way? So, my suggestion is that you tell your Bluetoothed boyfriend that while you appreciate his desire to share his love of lo-fi with others, the appropriate place to do so is in a subreddit, not at the Barton Springs spillway. That’s for Instagram jump photos and ear-piercing shrieks because the water is too cold.

This article appears in March 27 • 2026.