I’d never been to the Superdome before.
Because of this, I’d never realized the sheer size of the venue or how close to the ceiling the bleachers reached.
So needless to say, when I bought my tickets to see One Direction in New Orleans last Thursday, I wasn’t prepared for the Superdome to be filled to the brim with screaming tweens whose shrieks outweighed the volume of the music being played.
But what startled me the most was that the mass of girls in attendance seemed more excited about being in the presence of the now 20-something pop-rockers than actually listening to their music, screaming more when a band member interacted with the crowd than when hits like “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Kiss You” were performed.
Through social media outlets like Twitter and Instagram, fans of One Direction — and many other pop acts like them — feel as though relationships have been formed with band members, so much so that when singer Harry Styles posts photos of himself lounging by the pool with model Alexa Chung, the whole fanbase (“Directioners”) blows a gasket.
Gone are the days when there was a figurative — and sometimes literal — barrier between bands and the fans who pay hundreds of dollars to see them for a few hours.
When I saw John Mayer in Memphis a few years ago, there was little to no interaction with the audience. Even though he’s an attractive musician who has been on the cover on magazines like GQ and Rolling Stone, women weren’t throwing themselves onstage just to get a taste of the performer. There was a certain level of respect for the music, and people weren’t only there to see Mayer in the flesh — they were there to hear his music.
Even in the past few years, the connection between musicians and their fans seems to have changed.
Fans need to personally know a band isn’t new. When Don Draper and Harry Crane try to gain backstage access to The Rolling Stones for a television ad in AMC’s “Mad Men,” the teenage girls whose acquaintances they make are just trying to gain a glimpse of the 1970s heartthrobs. But the way they connect with the performers has changed.
Social media has taken this connection to a whole new level, and that fact, in short, is infuriating.
When it reaches the point where fans aren’t actually fans of musicians for their music but for their roles as public figures, you have to question whether they’re really musicians at all.
When fans are viewing concerts as public appearances instead of a time to appreciate music, why do bands even bother lugging instruments onstage and playing through a few songs? Why don’t they just show up and answer questions submitted via Twitter?
When there was a 90-minute lapse between the opening act, 5 Seconds of Summer, and One Direction, my 15-year-old sister didn’t fidget, wondering where her saviors were. She checked Twitter to see if Liam Payne had posted anything about the band’s whereabouts.
When the show seemed rushed and lacked much crowd interaction, she complained that the band didn’t do its usual “Twitter Questions” segment, where members answer questions tweeted to the band with a specific hashtag for each tour.
When concerts become an excuse to be in the presence of a celebrity, and music becomes a filler instead of a main event, can we even call One Direction a band?
Rebecca Docter is 20-year-old mass communication junior from Jackson, Mississippi. You can contact her on Twitter @therealbecksss.