Published on September 7th, 2012 | by Andy Whorehall9
Bands With The Worst Fans
Editor’s Warning: This article contains more than a few opinions that are loaded with very, very naughty words, many commas, and a way with words that might make a few readers— especially people who need recreational and hard-core drugs to enjoy a rock show— very angry. We didn’t edit them out because we don’t have time to read all of Andy’s words and neither does he. Everytime he farts, 2,000 words fall out of his ass. Everytime he burps, 2,000 words dribble out of his mouth. If you don’t enjoy the art of reading, you should head on over to Pitchfork, now. The voice(s) of written words are just as important as the details provided, however they’re presented— for better or worse. There’s that freedom of speech thing, too. It’s the writers’, and all artists, duties to give voices to those who can’t speak or write. No matter the topic or how ridiculous it may be, including, bands with the worst fans. Moving on. Lilith Fair festival fans may want to stop here and click on over to Etsy for a homemade hemp purse or something else you can smoke when the music isn’t moving ya. There you have it, don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Oh, hi guys! What are you doing? Did you miss me the past few months? Doubt it, Google Analytics says y’all don’t give a sh¡t about music unless we’re trashing it… which is only about 25% of the time. MATH. ARITHMETIC. That’s right, Bill Clinton & I share the same views on statistical proof. Guess what? This is a special article I’ve scripted for a few special readers who only comment on the 25% of articles they don’t agree with. Bands with the worst fans.
This article is about people who don’t love music but attend rock shows. Many of you, maybe? Warning, this article is not about how awful the bands I’m about to list off are or aren’t. They are irrelevant aside from one common fact: These bands, for whatever marketing/musical reasons they were able to commercially tap into, bring out the worst people a true music fan can deal with most often to a show.
Every purist, music nerd knows them in their own circle of friends, but we also know how to spot them at a show, too; before they git that party goin’ with themselves, their posse, and those around them, that they can lure into their hazy eyes of sight. This is not about the people who show up to shows to actually LISTEN TO THE F**KING BAND. There’s so little of you these days that enjoy music without bringing your posse and a bag of skunk weed to feel good about the music. Sad, simply sad. People that need drugs, getting skunk drunk, and talking to your friends and strangers around you make life hell for concert goers who have no interests in your party posse or your immediate pot-smoking friendship. Here we go, these bands attract the worst fans at shows circa 2012.
Wilco: I don’t know if there’s another band that has managed to attract the kind of fans that are too snobby to go see Dave Matthews, but behave just the same, if not worse than DMB’s fan base. There are more stoner dads at a Wilco show than a DMB show, but there are more stoner girls at a DMB show. Pick your poison, it’s the same crowd. The fans during the pre-Yankee era used to be cool, reserved, primarily intelligent human beings who enjoyed a good time, a few beers, maybe one or 2 covers and a raucous encore, but listened. That was about 6-800 of us for a decent run. Groups of fans would listen. Many used to take notes, exchange bootlegs. Now a days? A larger, commercial, audience they’ve attracted is out for one thing, YAY LOL I HOPE THEY PLAY CALIFORNIA STARS FOR AN ENCORE. IF THEY DON’T OMG after they’ve gotten everyone around them high for 2 hours, while irritating the fuck out of people like me who can’t seem to turn off their incessant talking. Move to another spot, there they are again, different faces, same problem. I can’t stand it Jeff, I really can’t. I still miss the Lounge Ax.
Phish: See my definition for Wilco and let me add— same clowns but a worse experience due to the length of songs, fucking jams, and 3 sets plus extra-long encores. Do you know how hard it is to enjoy Squirling Coil while the drugged up douche bags dance like tooth fairies in my 2 foot circle radius of peace & quiet? I hate you, all of you. Go to hell.
Grateful Dead: See my definition for Wilco but let me add— same shit but the fans are really old now and they couldn’t help it when it all began. They thought drugs would bring them peace and love. Ahahahhahahah, morons. They needed to feel better somehow because the 60s was some depressing shit for an entire generation. Who’s to say the 60s didn’t ruin concert going, too, with Woodstock and hot jams everywhere. Long hot jams and solos, y’all. I saw the Dead once, it was a terrible experience because the people I was with got lost before the show started— in the stadium. Everyone, I mean, everyone around me offered me every kind of drug under the sun. I don’t do drugs, I do music. My first and only experience seeing the Grateful Dead confirmed any judgemental thoughts about their fan base that I had before going; especially the younger ones and their stupid teddy bear bumper stickers. The fortunate trust funded children who never actually enjoy music, just drugs and the counter-culture that surrounds it. Soldier Stadium was the last time I saw the Dead and 6 friends from college who I haven’t talked to since. Fuck y’all and any or all of you who may have been at this show for ruining my very first and your very last Dead show. Jerry Garcia died a few days later but I’d venture to say that decades of playing to such an awfully large, out-of-touch, douche bag fan base had something to do with it.
Dave Matthews Band: See Definition for Wilco and I’ll add— Daves fan base are primarily hot girls who have no knowledge of the fact that they HATE live music. These are the sorts of people that love to go to Dave Matthews Band shows, people who hate live music. It’s too bad, too. What a waste, all those dancing nannies. Get it? I hope not. I think Dave Matthews is one of those guys who would appreciate what I’m about to type because he seems like a smart, business-saavy, funny guy when he’s not performing his songs. Please, do me a favor for one show, or an entire tour, and tell your band to leave the stage after 2 songs. Catch everyone, all your beautiful fans off guard, with an hour plus performance of stand-up comedy. Tell stories, have a roadie-ala-costumed-butler bring you a few martinis to the stage. Fumble about like Tony Clifton and exit stage left. I’m pretty, pretty, pretty sure your fans are so out of touch with actually listening to your band and music that they will have no idea what hit them because they are there to tell their collegiate bar fly friends or co-workers the next day that they saw Dave. OMG we saw Dave last night, he was so funny but he didn’t play music. It was so weird. YOLO! We had a great time. You have the best fans to poke around with, you should, Dave; you really should risk it all for a few laughs.
Jimmy Buffett: I don’t know what it’s like, I don’t want to know. You couldn’t pay off my school loans in exchange for a paid courtship to a Buffett concert. Nope, not a living chance. You’d have a hard time getting my dead carcass there, too. The thoughts of being at a Jimmy Buffett show are all I have to comment on here and I’m probably (sadly) correct with what I’m about to transcribe: Take all of the bands above and their fans, now, remove all of the Caucasians— which is about 90% of the total fan base of the those listed above— and drop them off on an island that’s doubling as an Apocalyptic-parking-lot gathering of tour-bus-travelling Buffett Fans who are waiting for Jimmy to rock their drunken souls to sleep. They’re called Parrot Heads apparently, and they HATE live music, though they’ll act like they are there for Jimmy. They are not. They are there to party. To wear extra-large Hawaiian shirts and get drunk, high, vomit, yell, sweat…. just awful. These thoughts of Parrot Heads are just awful, aren’t they? Some of them I hear don’t even make it from the bus they rode in on with the other weekend bender geriatrics to the show itself because they get so drunk and sick on wine coolers, rum drinks, piÃ±a colladas and puffs off the one-hitter Dr. Johnson enjoys once a year on the annual trip to Buffet Paradise. Add weed, cocaine, and a whole different kind of wealthy white breed of fraternity and sorority boys and girls, and there ya have it- hell freezes over on earth at a Jimmy Buffett show.
The Black Crowes: See Definition for Wilco, but replace the band, the songs, and the fan base with the Rolling Stones; now, tell the Stones’ fan base to go home, and their you have it, a Black Crowes cover band show that’s been relocated from the festival grounds to the bowling alley.
(A few more to consider mentioning, like Pearl Jam, but I can’t go there, not only are the fans terrible but the band’s songs are, too. These above should be more than enough opinionated ammo to load up the analytics, the regional drunk critics, a few Phish-heads, some angry stoner-Lady Dave fans and of course, my spam folder.)
There’s a running theme to end this article and it’s not that I may have an intolerance for white people at live rock concerts. It’s this and it’s simple: Many of y’all make enjoying a few bands worse. For the love of a golden god and all that is holy about rock n’ roll, can you please shut the fuck up while the band is playing? I didn’t pay to listen to you and your friends talk and laugh and smoke and spill beer and sweat and dance like you’re at the Lilith Fair. Stop it. Please, stop it. What is wrong with most of you? Really, I’ll say it again: What is wrong with most of you, people? Do you not care about the music at all? Do you need to smoke a little wealthy white boy weed to think about it? Go ahead, but I’m not waiting for you to get your buzz on. You know, ‘to find that place you need to find’ that music should be able to do for you naturally if you’d only shut your fucking mouth and open your ears to listen. Oh, oh, oh, wait! One more thing: You get 5 seconds and 5 seconds only or I’m tapping your shoulder— PLEASE put your fucking phone down. This is directed at all of you. Don’t take it personally and if you think I’m angry about it, What an angry person! I’m not. I just don’t like you, I typed it with a smile, too, see? : )
I know, not cool; or the art of making enemies read and listen to more than 140 characters and 30-second-iTunes-samples.
Andy Whorehall (SM)
Words © 2012 Andy Whorehall (SM) for SockMonkeySound.com
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