For most of music history, the job of being a musician was centred on simply creating and playing music. There were fewer strings attached because there was no way to have constant or even frequent access into that artist's personal life, aside from articles in the press and TV appearances. But now, with many artists getting their start from loyal social media fan bases, many people believe that’s no longer the case.
When you’re able to find a band or singer before they blow up, there’s a feeling of pride when they hit the mainstream. If you were one of the few followers who were able to watch their journey, you start to feel like you know them personally. The same parasocial relationship can also form with larger artists, the ones who keep carefully curated Instagrams and do What’s In My Bag? interviews, letting you in on their lives but only in ways they approve. Whether big or small, artists are encouraged to use their public image to their benefit, to present an image or openness even if it's entirely fabricated.
Chappell Roan is perhaps the best example of the dichotomy between artist and person behind the art. Kayleigh Rose Amstutz, the pop star’s real identity, was very deliberate in the creation of her image. Creating Chappell Roan by pulling influence from drag queens, Amstutz became something both entirely herself yet uniquely separate, highlighting and satirising who she is in real life. Yet still, people find themselves feeling entitled to her time. The singer was quoted in 2024 as saying: “I don't agree with the notion that I owe a mutual exchange of energy, time, or attention to people I do not know, do not trust, or who creep me out-just because they're expressing admiration.” Having received a massive growth in her fan base in such a short period of time, it’s no surprise that Roan has had difficulty getting accustomed to fame. Even beyond just the usual adjustment period, she seems to be rejecting the idea that interacting with fans is part of her job description.
Musicians without such a clear alter ego find themselves victims of fans who can’t tell the difference between the person on stage and the real person they hound for photographs. This is particularly difficult for singers whose work comes from a place of transparency. Take, for example, Phoebe Bridgers, who is beloved because of how honest her lyrics feel. But her seeming openness in her work does not entitle fans to further insights into her life. In 2023, following the death of her father, Bridgers spoke about her own relationship with fandom and how speaking with boygenius bandmates has allowed her to feel more comfortable in her boundary setting: “I don’t have to sit here and be [...] grateful that that happened and that that’s a part of my job. It doesn’t have to be, and it wasn’t five years ago, so I appreciate being able to look at two other people and be like, this is dehumanising abuse.” This quote makes clear the thread between all of these artists: that the issue is not just fans who mistake themselves as friends of the musicians they love, but as someone who is owed something.
This feeling has even appeared in boygenius’ 'Bite The Hand'. The opening track of the supergroup’s first EP is about the gap between what a fan asks of them and what they’re able to give: “Here’s the best part distilled for you / But you want what I can’t give to you”. While Boygenius, like other artists, offer up some glimpses into their lives through social media or their lyrics, this is where the relationship ends with fans. Anyone asking them for more will only end up being disappointed when they sing “I can’t love you how you want me to”.
Often when artists make statements about refusing to speak to fans in public or asking the audience to respect their privacy, it’s met with extreme criticism. We have incorrectly started to believe that we are owed something by supporting our favourite musicians. When we stream their songs and buy tickets to their concerts, in exchange we are allowed access to them in any form we see fit. We see ourselves not as enjoyers of some artistic creation, but as stockholders who expect a return on our interest in their work, but this simply isn’t the case. Just as we don’t owe the artist continued support, they don’t owe us anything outside of what they might sell us.
Catherine Murphy
Image: ‘boygenius’ Official Album Cover
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