What can we learn about Tampa Bay based on it's vibe?

When I was a dumb 17-year-old, I had only two great desires in life: (1) getting out of the house and (2) clothes-averse Scandinavian women. So I went to Norway for the summer as an exchange student. It was a sexy, seemingly lawless place, full of very pretty people, old and young, squeezing good work between good times. Despite the relaxed nature, however, there existed a pervasive, incongruous snobbery toward its neighbor. Norway mocked Sweden; Sweden mocked Norway. Together, they were proud of their chunk of Europe; once alone, Viking blood would boil.

A few years back, when I was a slightly less dumb 35-year-old, I moved from uptight Washington, D.C., to St. Petersburg, a town shedding its gray label and embracing Dalí's carnality and a see-and-be-seen Beach Drive. It was around the time I was buying a beer in the kids' zone of Tampa's Lowry Park Zoo — that was new! — surrounded by tan, gorgeous people, when it made sense. I had been here before. St. Pete mocked Tampa; Tampa mocked St. Pete. Never mind that our sun was shining. Never mind that we were having more fun than tourists. It was Norway-Sweden all over again.

Together, we puff our chest at Orlando and Miami and Jacksonville. Tampa Bay is the epicenter of FLA; we are cosmopolitan and laid-back, land and sea. But when it's just the two of us, our bridges might as well be over the River Kwai. We party hearty with one grudging eye across the water, a feud that has only intensified as St. Pete has embraced a big-city nightlife. In 2012, we are siblings who proudly defend each other against outsiders, then beat on each other at home.

My job as a music critic ranges from Clearwater's Ruth Eckerd Hall to Tampa's 1-800-ASK-GARY Amphitheatre. As a central, heavily populated part of Florida, we have killer concert pull here, a constant top-notch soundtrack to the revelry. Taylor Swift, Bruce Springsteen, Kanye West: We get everyone; others don't. A concert also happens to be the rare time Tampa Bay gets together. And with the volume cranked, that constant vibe of uptight hedonism, which defines and divides us, slips away. We rock as one. In related news, Radiohead plays the Tampa Bay Times Forum on Feb. 29. I say we all get together, lose some clothes and talk this one out.

Sean Daly is the Times' pop music critic.