Listen Up People!
“Come gather round people
Even those who are stoned
And admit that the chatter
Around us has grown
So now you must endure
All my gripes and moans
About the deafening rudeness
That is spreading
But the time goes short
To change and atone
Oh, the tongues they are a waggin’” – Rob Dillon (from the 1965 “Be Quiet” Tour)
CAUTION: The following article could be construed as a borderline rant from a beleaguered and bitter middle-aged musician. Some readers may take offense or exception to certain incendiary comments or pyroclastic prose. Yet, any offended party is encouraged to re-read and reflect, for the following article is, in fact, instructive in its intent rather than accusatory….
As a younger man, I used to curiously amuse myself with fantasies of becoming a grumpy codger. I’d be permanently posted on the front porch, whittling on stuff or maybe strumming a guitar. Occasionally, I might perk up whenever presented with the opportunity to holler at passing kids, “get off my lawn, dagnabbit!” In retrospect, I think the appeal of these fantasies had something to do with being entitled by age and indifference to dole out whatever sass I cared to distribute.
Now, squarely in the middle-aged season of my life, I am persistently reminded of the fact that I am evermore out of touch with each passing year. And, perhaps as part of a perverse self-fulfilling prophecy, I have noticed that my general grumpiness has increased in concert with my gradual detachment from the mainstream. Hilariously, this grumpiness is seemingly archetypical, complete with: comparisons of the rose-colored salad days to the current decline of society; accusations of laziness and dereliction in the younger generations; tendencies towards public focus on ailments (what one of our elderly customers famously referred to as an “organ recital”); and, of course, heightened powers of irritation…seemingly applicable to everything and everyone. More and more, my mother’s old adage that “people do not change with age; rather, they intensify” seems wise and applicable.
In reflecting on the root cause of my grumpiness, I recognize that such emotions often stem from feelings of injustice. These feelings are accentuated by any perceived failure of an individual or society on the whole to abide by certain standards or ideals. Granted, it is inevitable that societal norms will evolve with the times; and, by all indications, it seems that this evolution will occur more rapidly and with broader scope as we become a globalized society. Yet, while I champion expressions of individuality, I advocate adherence to certain rules of public conduct, regardless of this rapid social evolution. Quaint as the notion may seem, these long-established codes of conduct are, in fact, prescriptions for keeping the peace in a civilization. True, in the internet-social-media age we are more connected and communicative than ever in a virtual sense, but this interconnectivity has come with a heavy price tag of isolation, aloofness, and an overall erosion of good ol’ fashioned social etiquette. Among those at-risk long-established standards of comportment is the ability to focus and listen, which is seemingly a truly rare trait these days.
Like having perfect pitch, I suppose having good manners and proper etiquette instilled can be a bit of a curse—once you are attuned to certain standards, you note their absence readily and with great dismay. Having been raised in a business that was established with a focus on classical guitar and formal music study, I suppose that it is not surprising that I was schooled in performance etiquette early in life. Unlike the scions of, shall we say, “mainstream music businesses,” my early cultural upbringing did not involve attending rock n’ roll concerts or music festivals (those came later!). No, I attended recitals and orchestral performances, or the occasional folky singer-songwriter gig. In these performance settings, there is an unspoken but strict protocol that one should not do anything to disrupt the performance—the performer is there to concentrate on their performance, and the audience is there to listen and only listen. Even as a very young child, my parents expressed that this standard of behavior was expected of me. It was furthermore understood that any infraction on my part would be a most unwelcome embarrassment and would likely result in my immediate removal from the venue. Of course, it can be very hard for children in these instances, so I was often allowed to read or draw if I was bored—but no talking or whining was permitted!
Nowadays, venues that promote classical music are some of the last bastions of proper listening, with perhaps the addition of some intimate jazz and coffeehouse venues. Elsewhere, there is a crescendo of casual chatter and cellphone amusement that has, for me, become intolerable. Incidentally, while more prevalent with younger audiences, I have observed that this trend of inconsiderate behavior is not unique to the young. As an example, I will cite my recent and brief attendance of Vince Gill’s performance at the Fox Theatre here in Atlanta. I primarily went to this show for the opener, Jack Schnieder, a former Maple Street Guitars student who is now a very impressive guitarist and singer. He performed solo with an acoustic guitar, along the lines of the folk singers of old. This is a brave act in a 4600-seat auditorium! Throughout his set, the men in front of us talked incessantly, despite being shushed at least once by another concert goer—ironically, they felt it necessary to discuss how talented Jack was, rather than listen to his music. As I bored holes in the back of their heads with my wide-eyed gaze of furious incredulity, I came to realize that they were not alone. Rather, as my attention expanded, I noticed that there were pockets of conversation going on all around the theater while the young man on stage was pouring his heart out. The offenders here were not the insouciant youth of the cellphone age. No, these folks were overwhelmingly senior citizens, who presumably would have better honed respect by virtue of their age and experience. Regardless, I was so incensed by the end of the opening set that we decided to retreat to some seating in the mezzanine to drink the rest of our beer and listen to a few Vince Gill tunes before leaving—incidentally, the sound in lobby was actually better than inside, where the volume was oppressive (partly to overcome chatter!).
Strict as it may seem, a demand for quiet throughout a musical performance is more than reasonable, rather it is simply proper! To create noise or other distractions is profoundly disrespectful to the artist, who has dedicated considerable time and energy to the presentation of their craft happing before you. Moreover, chatter or any such disruption is very inconsiderate to your fellow audience members, who have sacrificed their time and hard-earned money to experience a live music performance. Along this line, it is truly baffling to me that folks seem to consistently practice greater courtesy in terms of cellphone use and conversation during a virtual performance in a movie theater than they will in a venue with an actual performer on stage! The bottom line is this: a good citizen and a true fan or admirer of a given performer shows respect through their polite attention.
Considering my advancing age and early introduction to such performance etiquette, I suppose it is possible that I am more sensitive than many to the disrespect that I constantly observe in musical performance settings. Still, I argue that this behavior is absolutely inexcusable, and it is frankly incomprehensible in my mind that this is not the consensus view. I suppose that I should concede that there is a time and a place for everything. For instance, some big performances morph into the social event that party-goers seem to perceive them as being. But, even at big shows, I can assure you that there are plenty of folks in the audience who are primarily interested in listening and taking in the live show, rather than tuning out the dissonance of folks’ futile attempts at carrying on conversation by screaming into each other’s ears over the music. Granted, any professional performer must ultimately prepare to contend with less than ideal performance situations, including chatter and other distractions. But, I can assure you that, behind their façade of professionalism, any performing artist is most unappreciative of this behavior. Along that line, here are a few points of perspective to consider: 1) Being present is not the same as being attentive. 2) Hearing is not the same as listening—listening requires effort and attention, and a real fan listens! 3) The purchase of a ticket is not a license to be obnoxious. It is entry to a privileged space, where you are invited to experience and digest art in a controlled setting. 4) If there is arranged seating at the venue, then the performance should be treated as a recital. If there is standing room only and a dance floor, there is probably more leeway to talk (though you should still listen instead!). In the end, if you are unsure of whether or not it is okay to talk or whip out that cellphone, just assume that you should not and instead embrace the act of listening (and politely encourage others to do so!). By practicing this courtesy, you will ensure that the quality of the performance for you, the audience, and the performer will its best. – L. Petsch, July 2025
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