How Bad Concert Etiquette Became the Norm, and the Artists Who Are Fighting Back

There’s little denying that a distinct absence of concert etiquette has skyrocketed in recent years. From incessant talking during a performance to a total lack of spatial awareness, both in general admission and seated settings, it’s made the live environment untenable at some shows. Then, of course, there is the fact that everyone in the audience has a camera in their pocket, and all too often doesn’t know how to use it with even the slightest sense of decorum.

Many blame the pandemic, as teens and tweens who spent a good deal of their formative years in isolation weren’t provided social cues by the so-called adults in the room for their first time at shows. The only thing they knew from the concert experience was that you had to record video and post it to social media. TikTok, Instagram, and the like are filled with snippets of live shows with quality ranging from average to unwatchable. But the message is clear: if you go to a show, you have to let the world know

When these Covid kids actually got into the venue to see an act, it became a sense of entitled desperation to get a great picture or video capture to prove a good time was being had, often at the cost of the experience of others in attendance. Take any concert – singer/songwriter to the heaviest of metal – and you’ll see the worst of the worst in action.

Perhaps you’ve found a great view of the artist, enjoying the setlist immensely, only to find that someone has suddenly planted themselves directly in front of you. Maybe it’s a person who’s suddenly been struck with the impetus to interpretive dance to a song, arms flailing, disregarding that they’re bumping into everyone around them. Or it’s the chatter next to you, a low muffle quickly rising in volume with the music, as if the band dared to play over their conversation.

The smartphone remains the most obscene offender, though. Whether it’s the fan trying to increase their followers by livestreaming the gig with their phone held high, or the concertgoer who doesn’t know – or care – that their blinding flash is on, disrupting others – including the artist onstage. The individuals who constantly raise the screen and immediately divert attention from the performance.

“Please put it away. You’re good. You’ve got enough. Now be present,” The Cult frontman Ian Astbury told me last year. “Because you’re messing with the flow. You’re messing with the frequency. We can’t connect. You’re breaking the spell. That’s a personal choice.”

To be clear, we’re not talking about people who are taking a quick snap or recording a minute or two of their favorite songs.

“I’ve been at a show and just whipped out – if I saw something real quick – I’m like, bang, hit it done. Back in my pocket,” Astbury said. “I love the fact that Tobias [Forge] and Ghost, they just got everyone to put their phones [away]. No phones in the building.”

The singer is referring to one way of dealing with phones that has worked to great success: lock them up.

I attended two concerts by the theatrical hard rock outfit Ghost over the past year, including a couple of weeks ago at Mohegan Sun in Connecticut. Led by Forge, who wears a mask and face paint as the character Papa V Perpetua while performing, the band requires every ticketholder put their phone into a locking neoprene pouch, which they keep on their person, and have it removed on the way out of the venue.

If, for whatever reason, someone needs to access their phone – let’s say they need to check on the sitter, the score of the game, etc. – there are stations set up throughout the arena to have the pouch temporarily unlocked.

“Obviously, the part of our crowd that are older and more aware, maybe this becomes a little bit nostalgic then,” Forge told Planet Rock last year of the phone ban. “But I really believe that the younger portion of our crowd will, as they did in L.A., come out saying, like, ‘That was not only a great concert; that was also an overwhelming experience.’”

As someone whose early show-going days were in the pre-smartphone era, it was wild seeing not one bit of rectangular light for two hours during the performance again. And Forge is correct that it was nostalgic to a degree; it was inarguably a better time. No one texting, recording, or using their flash – it was darkness save for the light show provided by the band. Everyone’s focus was on the performance.

Ghost isn’t alone. Jack White, Haim, and Alicia Keys have all instituted phone-free concerts in recent years. The lines are a bit longer to get in, but the payoff is worth it. Whether it’s cost-effective for the artist is another issue. Typically, it averages out to $2-$5.00 per ticket for usage of the pouches, which cost around $30 each to own.

Sadly, it’s come to this, and it would be better if a balance could be struck. For instance, when the media photographs a concert, it’s industry standard to be for the first three songs with no flash, either from the photo pit directly in front of the stage or at the soundboard. Swedish punk rockers The Hives gently remind the audience of this fact and encourage them to follow suit.

And if they don’t? Frontman Pelle Almqvist, who routinely wanders into the crowd during the show, often takes phones out of fans’ hands and puts them on the drum riser until after the show. Remember that when The Hives come to town.

A version of this article appears in this week’s print and online editions of my syndicated Rock Music Menu column under the title “How artists deal with concertgoers’ phones ‘messing with the flow’.“