“Concert Etiquette” and the Dilemma of Simply Existing

Graphic by Kim O'Donnell

By Sofia Giarrusso

A concert ticket is a gamble. You hope and pray you’ll pull out a winning 777.  So, you sing, dance, and immerse yourself in the music. But, the person behind you won’t stop pushing onto you, the person in front of you is a head too tall, and the people next to you are getting more than just handsy. You sigh. Groan. And maybe even roll your eyes because at the end of the day, you know that bets are final sale. 

We’ve all been there. 

The concept of how to ‘correctly’ act at concerts has saturated Gen-Z discourse with the force of a thousand…Clairo fans. Seriously though, “concert etiquette” is the trendy talk among the social media generation. How groundbreaking. And no, this isn’t Clairo shade–Clairo’s chill with me–it’s merely a fact. I’ll let Reddit do the contextualizing. 

Many young adults are claiming that some fans have lost both all sense of respect and ability to have fun at live shows. There seems to be a lot of critical attitudes with the new-age plagues of recording an entire show and fervent pushing to reach the barricade. While some choke these actions up to blatant entitlement, other naysayers particularly blame the Covid-19 pandemic for detached awareness in attendees. 

I cannot vouch for any supposed catalyst for this sudden urgency to tell others how to behave. However, I am no fly on the wall regarding the matter either. I’ve caught myself judging a crowd or two…or many. See, I believe judgment is natural, but ridicule is not. That’s the difference. That’s why I won’t deem aspects of “concert etiquette” appropriate or not.

I’ll use a recent series of events to support my apathy. I attended a beabadoobee show at MGM Music Hall weeks ago–yet another artist whose concerts have been the source of criticism. The median age of her crowd was, if I had to guess, about 19 years old. While that is intrinsically not an issue to me, it became quickly apparent that many attendees took advantage of photo ops and meme-able moments. Flash photoshoots in the middle of the set, inappropriate exclamations during acoustic songs, and neverending over-the-head iPhone recordings. Which was all very frustrating of course, but the vitality of the majority of the audience and Bea herself outweighed the negative factors.

A week later, I attended a Keane concert at the same venue. The crowd was littered with people 20, 30 years my senior. The general behavior was tame, on-brand for the soft rockability of the music at hand. Nevertheless, aspects of the people around me disappointed me. Men drunkenly screaming at the lead singer, gaggles of people loudly talking over quieter tracks, and a very passionate couple cringing me out to the nth degree. 

Obviously, youngins aren’t the only aggressors here as many imply. It doesn’t matter the demographics of a crowd because weird things are always bound to happen. Hoarding hundreds–thousands–of sweaty people in a room is a surefire way to piss somebody off, no matter what you do or don’t do. Simply existing is enough for some folks. But that doesn’t mean you have the right to be an asshole. Hecklers, drunks, and straight-up POS are people who don’t deserve to enjoy live music–not your TikTok-obsessed little cousin who doesn’t know any better. 

I don’t want my perspective to negate the integrity that is woven into the etiquette conversation. I too am an advocate of the golden rule. Rather, I’d like to highlight the pressing issue of safety instead of exclamations bred from petty temperament. Need I not rehash the horrors of the Astroworld Festival or similar tragedies that have taken place at live events. Negligence is legitimately dangerous whereas failing to sing back to a musician is not. Prioritizing mutual well-being over someone’s attitude could actually make a difference. 

Simply, you cannot expect an entire crowd to adhere to your expectations of what makes them ‘good.’ And if you think you can, a camp counselor may be a fitting job for you. Or cult leader. 

Or maybe reconsider if a concert is worth the gamble to you.

I dare you to dance, stand still, belt, lip-sync, wear your best platform shoes, sport your flattest Converse, take videos, leave your phone at home–it doesn’t matter. You, along with everybody else, bought the ticket. Do as you may. Follow “etiquette” or whatever the hell. After all, it’s a concert, not tea time at Buckingham Palace.