Things I Won’t Tolerate: Concert Edition

Look, I have spent a significant portion of my life in dark, sweaty rooms with floors so sticky they could claim ownership of my shoes. A few years back, I used to go to gigs alone all the time. There is a specific kind of freedom in solo gig-going. You don’t have to worry if your friend is bored, you don’t have to coordinate bathroom breaks, and you can wiggle your way into any tiny gap in the crowd without feeling guilty. During that era of my life, I met the absolute best people. I met strangers who shared their water, people who formed a protective circle when my laces came undone, and kindred spirits who screamed lyrics back at me with equal passion.

But I also met the worst people.

Lately, it feels like concert etiquette has fallen off a cliff. Maybe we forgot how to exist in public, or maybe the main character syndrome has just reached a fever pitch. Whatever the reason, there are things I simply will not tolerate anymore. If you find yourself doing any of the following, please take this as a gentle but firm wake-up call to do better for the sake of the live music community.

---

The Absolute Minimum: Keep Your Fluids to Yourself

Let us start with the most basic, bottom-of-the-barrel behavior: throwing things. Specifically, throwing bodily fluids. I cannot believe this needs to be said to grown adults, but here we are. Whether it is a half-full cup of something questionable or literally spitting, it is disgusting. It is not “rock and roll” and it does not make you a legend. It makes you a literal biohazard. People pay hard-earned money to see their favorite artists, not to be showered in what you decide to throw. If you cannot contain your fluids for two hours, we have problems.

The Fun Police and the Art of Minding Your Business

Then we have the judgmental observers. These are the people who spend more time monitoring how everyone else is enjoying the show than actually watching the stage. I remember being at a gig a while back where I was having the time of my life. The band started playing an instrumental track that happened to be my absolute favorite. I pulled out my phone to record a snippet of it because I wanted to remember how that specific melody felt in a room full of people.

A group of men standing directly behind me started loudly mocking me. They were saying things like “What is even the point of filming this? The artist isn’t even singing.” Aside from being incredibly rude, it was just so narrow-minded. Funnily enough, I wasn’t there just for the lead singer. I was there for the whole band. I was there for the composition, the talent, and the atmosphere. To act like someone is “doing it wrong” because they appreciate a different part of the art than you do is peak elitism. Everyone is there to enjoy themselves. Some people mosh, some people stand perfectly still and close their eyes, and some people record their favorite instrumental bridge. As long as they aren’t hitting you in the face with their elbows, (unless you’re actively moshing then it’s fair game I guess) leave them alone.

---

The Myth of the “Found Friend” and Space Invasion

Speaking of hitting people, let us talk about the phantom friend maneuver. We have all seen it. You have been standing in your spot for three hours. Your legs ache, you are dehydrated, but you have a great view. Suddenly, someone puts a hand on your shoulder and says they are just trying to find their friends up front. They shove past you, causing a domino effect of annoyed fans, only to stop two inches in front of you and stay there for the rest of the night.

Your friends don’t exist. You just wanted a better view and you didn’t want to put in the work to get it. If you want to be at the barrier, get to the venue earlier. Don’t be so entitled that you think your desire for a better photo justifies ruining the experience for the people who actually planned ahead.

Leave the Aggression at the Door

This leads me to aggression in general. There is a weird, toxic energy that sometimes creeps into crowds where people feel the need to be physically dominant. I am not talking about a consensual mosh pit where people look out for each other. I am talking about the people who use their size to intimidate others, who shove people out of the way without a word, or who pick fights over a spilled drink. Just do not be that person. You are at a concert, not a gladiatorial arena. Aggression is the quickest way to suck the soul out of a room.

I know I sound like I am venting, and I am, but it is only because I love live music so much. When a gig is good, it is a genuine spiritual experience. There is nothing like the feeling of a room full of strangers becoming a single unit, all vibrating to the same frequency. That is why we need to protect these spaces.

Building a Community in the Crowd

The best gigs I have been to were the ones where the crowd felt like a community. I want to go back to the gigs where if someone falls, five hands reach down to pull them up instantly, no matter what ‘scene’ the crowd is. I want to be in a space where you can turn to the person next to you and share an excited moment because that song just started.

We need to advocate for concerts being a safe space for everyone. That means being aware of the people around you. If you see someone who looks overwhelmed, ask if they are okay. If you see someone being harassed, speak up or find security. If you are tall, maybe don’t stand directly in front of the five-foot-tall person who was there before you. It is these small acts of consideration that make the difference between a miserable night and a core memory.

Live music is a gift. It is one of the few places left where we can truly disconnect from our screens and be present in a shared moment of creativity. Let us stop ruinous behaviors and start being the kind of crowd the artist deserves. Be loud, be passionate, and be joyful, but above all, be kind. The person standing next to you loves this music just as much as you do. Treat them like an ally, not an obstacle.

I still believe in the magic of the pit. It’s still my happy place, when everyone is respectful.

---

The Concert Goer’s Green Flag Checklist

While we spent a lot of time talking about what not to do, it is just as important to highlight the legends who make the music scene a better place. If you find yourself checking these boxes, you are officially the kind of person I want to stand next to at a show.

The “Gap Closer” If you see a smaller person struggling to see and you have some extra room, you offer to let them move in front of you. You know that your height is a biological advantage and you use it for good, not evil.

The “Pit Guardian” You love to mosh, but you are the first person to stop the movement and form a protective wall the second someone hits the floor. You follow the golden rule of the pit: if someone goes down, you pick them up immediately.

The “Water Hero” You are the person who grabs an extra couple of cups of water from the barrier and passes them back to the thirsty people behind you. You understand that hydration is a collective responsibility in a room that is basically a giant sauna.

The “Vibe Lifter” You hype up the opening act. You know how hard it is to play to a room of people waiting for someone else, so you give them your energy and attention. You make the artist feel welcome and the crowd feel engaged from the very first chord.

The “Spatial Awareness Pro” You know exactly where your limbs are at all times. You dance and move, but you manage to do it without using the person next to you as a punching bag. You respect the personal bubble, even when that bubble is only three inches wide.

The “Inclusion Advocate” You keep an eye out for solo gig-goers. If someone looks a bit lost or lonely, you give them a friendly nod or include them in a quick chat about the setlist. You help turn a room of strangers into a community.