Last October, I had the pleasure of attending Clairo’s mesmerizing performance at the Salt Shed, supporting her album ‘Charm.’ Accompanied by a full band that included a flautist, Clairo covered David Byrne’s ‘Everyone’s In Love With You,’ and the experience was transcendent.
However, the atmosphere within the venue felt strangely off. The audience seemed less attuned to the moment, with loud conversations interrupting the opener’s set, creating an unsettling vibe. The crowd in the pit appeared indifferent, standing like statues as Clairo encouraged them to ‘C’mon! Dance!’ multiple times throughout the evening. While my partner and I moved to the rhythm, I couldn’t help but notice the judgmental glances from those around us, as if our joy was out of place.
Reflecting on the concert experience, I found myself longing for the days when live music was enveloped in a sense of community and shared enthusiasm. As a teenager, I was a frequent participant in mosh pits where unspoken rules existed: lending a helping hand to a fallen fan, providing water to those feeling faint, and collectively removing disruptive individuals from the area.
Even at quieter concerts, there was a sense of camaraderie among attendees; we were united in our love for the music and a natural inclination to look out for each other. Today, that communal spirit seems to be fading. As Lollapalooza approaches, I sought the opinions of music-loving Chicagoans, particularly subscribers to WBEZ’s music-focused text dispatches, regarding modern concert etiquette. It became clear that I am not alone in my observations.
One of the most prevalent frustrations seems to revolve around the pervasive use of phones. The dynamic of a live performance relies on a reciprocal exchange of energy between artists and the crowd. At best, a phone can be a mild distraction; at worst, it can sever the vital connection that performers depend on to deliver their best.
Another concern raised by concertgoers is the careless behavior exhibited by some attendees. This includes loud conversations during performances, smoking indoors, or engaging in self-centered antics that divert attention from the artist. For instance, South Side resident Megan Jeyifo recounted a recent experience where, at a performance by Bilal at The Promontory, two individuals began chatting mid-song, forcing her party to shift forward repeatedly in hopes of escaping their noise. Ultimately, it took a confrontation from another audience member to quiet the disruption.
The rise of social media may also contribute to this inconsiderate behavior, as individuals strive for ‘internet clout.’ This includes fans who capture their experiences on cameras, sharing clips that are more about gaining attention than appreciating the music itself. For some, the concert becomes a backdrop for their self-promotion rather than a shared experience, undermining the essence of live performances. As more people reach for their cameras, fewer are liberated to dance or express themselves due to the fear of being recorded and later judged online.
This sentiment resonates with notable artists as well. Tyler, The Creator, headlining at Lollapalooza, recently shared his thoughts on the joys of a phoneless experience during a listening party, emphasizing the importance of being present in the moment.
Amidst these challenges, the increasing costs associated with attending concerts also play a role in shaping audience expectations. When concertgoers spend considerable sums of money, they often expect an event to meet certain standards; however, live shows should be about shared experiences rather than singular transactions.
So where do we go from here as passionate fans of music? While we cannot control the behavior of others, we must not allow negative experiences to overshadow the sacredness of live music.
One possible solution is to seek out smaller, more intimate performances that naturally promote a sense of community. A recent experience at Subterranean offered a glimmer of hope. On a particularly hot day, the musicians not only encouraged hydration, but also emphasized kindness and consideration among attendees.
Ultimately, in the world of live music, we may need to embrace vulnerability. Sometimes, it’s about closing our eyes, fully immersing ourselves in the sound, and letting go of inhibitions—even if it leads to the occasional embarrassment. In the end, it’s those moments of pure connection that define the concert experience, allowing us to transcend the frustrations of modern concert etiquette.
image source from：chicago
