Cyrus and Bieber notwithstanding, music is the most sublime expression of human emotion. As you make shapes on a typical Cambridge night out, you might feel yourself going through several distinct emotional states. Here’s a rough blueprint to guide you through each of these thorny transitions, with the music to match every one.

Stage One: Pre-easy Does It. You have to start chilled: no point going ugly early. We’ve all got it – the remix (or ‘Pre-Mix’) of the most taste-neutral possible playlist to accompany the bant and libation that comes at the end of the working day. Couldn’t name you a single Arctic Monkeys song, but it’s always on. AM, RHCP, ELO - you’re looking for something with a typically abbreviated name so you don’t have to bother with the massive hassle of saying it all. If you get it right, people won’t even ask what’s playing. Music has yet to take centre stage.

Stage Two: Eye of the Tiger. Time for a pump up – you’re about to go out. As the title indicates, any song to ever grace a movie training montage will do, but could also be an old favourite you’ll be able to sing in the queue before you hit the D-floor. Everyone is going to have a different opinion as to what this song should be, but it’s time for you to assert your individuality and dominance. As for me, I skate to one song and one song only: it gets the people GOING.

Stage Three: Dance, Dance, Take a Chance. Now you’ve actually hit the D-floor the choice of music is longer up to you - but that doesn’t really matter at this point. You just need something well-known that you can gracelessly dance and sing along to, to limber up. Happily, Lola’s and Fez will roll out the classics night after night for just this very stage of transitional insecurity. Anyone feat. anyone else is usually a safe bet early on in the night. No question, Lola Lo’s knows.

Stage Four: F*CK YEAH MOTHERF*CKER! You’re going macro, in a big way, transforming mentally into a vengeful God of Thunder on the dance-floor. Lyrics are only a complication at this point – we’re talking gritty bass and some absolutely FILTHY dubstep on the cards. Alternatively you can vent on some Extremely Loud Rap Music (aka ELRM) to really go aggro.

Stage Five: Implode to Joy. There’s always that one song isn’t there? One song that brings it all crashing down like Concorde. Maybe you run out of money. Maybe someone butts you in the face a little too forcefully. Maybe you lose someone in the group, maybe the group loses you. Suddenly that same music seems tiresome and repetitive. It’s time to bail to the Trailer and nurse your eardrums with rehabilitating chips and unidentifiable sauce.

Stage Six: Golden Slumbers. You’re back safely to casa dolce casa, just happy to be out of a sweaty crush of townies. You only need a little something light to eat your Trailer Gravy to, while you descend into existential discussion with your fellow exiles. A replay of Stage One is definitely on the cards, given that it’s already loaded, and how hard it is to care at this point. Just make sure it’s solid enough to stop you actually slipping into a coma before you hit the hay.