In the words of your mother/grandmother/nana “You better act like you got the commonsense God gave you.”

All iterations of this phrase have seemingly left the public as we enter nearly a year of being clear of global pandemic restrictions. In the wake of the rise of living in delusion, romanticizing your life or just the general, ya know, rise of losing our civil rights every day, the world seems to find a new level of “unhinged” to reach every season. This time around, as the summer welcomes us and festival season is in full swing, fans are losing their damn minds just from the taste of being back outside.

Let’s get into it.

TLDR:

From human ashes to cell phones, sex toys to water bottles, concertgoers have been hurling objects at their favorite performers, sometimes injuring them in the process. Did we all just forget concert etiquette altogether post pandemic? Or is this part of the hyper individualistic, made-for-Tik-Tok fame, world we’ve created? Whatever the reason, it’s not cool. Let’s act like we’ve been here before.

Here’s The Thing:

Fandoms aren’t new; neither are parasocial relationships with celebrities or expressing your love through gifts thrown on stage. But it’s getting out of hand and points to a greater problem facing post-pandemic life: it’s all about me.

The screaming during acoustic sets, shouting during a quiet introspective interlude, distracting the artist for your own moment in the spotlight— it’s as if the concert is for the proverbial “you” and not the collective “y’all” brought together by a common music interest. But what is the end game? For some, it’s the off chance their moment detracts enough from the collective experience to star in their very own viral moment. For others, it’s their once-in-a-lifetime moment for a personal one-on-one with the artist.

The pandemic highlighted Americans’ selfish tendencies, like the anti-mask movement and our resistance to vaccines and basic community health efforts. America is built on the individual. How else would social media apps like Instagram survive if we weren’t taught to romanticize and individualize our life experiences?

The Takeaway:

It doesn’t have to be this way. I make jokes to my ex-evangelical friends that they were caught up in hellfire and brimstone right in that formative time when going to a big concert could have made them find “god” just as easy as an emotionally manipulative alter call. Music is powerful, spiritual even. Add in 10,000 fans simultaneously singing along to the same tune as you and it can be transcendental. Lean into the magic of community, the fleeting communion of voices and the big feelings felt when joined in one synchronized chorus.

We are just coming off the heels of years of disconnection, political upheaval and misinformation. To see in real time the power of connection can be the starting point many of us need to feel sane in this world. It only happens once— that group of people, in that city, led by that artist— you don’t want to miss it. So, when you leave your next concert, high on the magic of mutual respect and honest emotion, take that joy and let it recontextualize the roles you play in the communities you’re a part of.

Or maybe you could just, like, don’t be d*ck.

Required reading/listening:

• F*ck Around with Adele and Find Out (The Cut)
• Let’s Talk About Concert Etiquette (Impact)
• Maggie Rogers’s Higher Calling: Musicians often talk about seeking the divine in their work. The 28-year-old singer-songwriter went to Harvard to study it as she made her second major-label album, “Surrender.” (The New York Times)