It doesn’t matter how old, responsible, or buttoned-up I become (just kidding; no one would ever, in any context, refer to me as "buttoned-up"). There's one aspect of my personality that will forever remain as a pure, joyful, and life-affirming reminder of my more carefree youth: the always faithful, always giddy fangirl.
This facet has gone dormant sometimes, sure, but it has never fully disappeared. Whenever it reemerges, I’ve noticed that a newfound joie de vivre comes along with it, and a part of me that I thought I’d tossed out along with my BOP magazines and VHS tapes back in the mid-2000s comes roaring back to life. It’s always a little surprising, but always extremely exhilarating.
I can’t be certain, but I’m guessing that much of it has to do with the fact that diving headfirst into the world of a brand new band (and it’s always a band — never an actor or a show or a movie) brings me right back to my own halcyon days of teenage obsession and infatuation. The days when I really didn't have much more to worry about than who might ask me to sway back and forth with them to K-Ci and Jojo’s "All My Life" at the next school dance, or memorizing Spanish verb conjugations for the next day's quiz.
It was truly such a luxury to have so much free time to analyze the innuendos of “If You Want It To Be Good Girl (Get Yourself A Bad Boy),” swoon over men who would never know I existed, and delicately rip pinups out of Tiger Beat that featured my crush du jour. True story: the only time I've ever “shoplifted” was to tear an irresistibly attractive photo of Nick Carter out of an issue of SuperTeen at CVS. The guilt still eats at me to this day.
Last year, I read a fascinating and validating book about fangirl culture on the internet by Kaitlyn Tiffany called Everything I Need I Get from You. I knew going in that the book was primarily focused on boy band One Direction. While I very much enjoy them on a non-fangirl level, I really only know about a dozen of their songs and am expertly versed in Harry and Zayn’s solo careers rather than the group as a whole, so I wasn’t quite sure if or how much I’d relate.
Within the first page, my fear was put to rest. Tiffany describes a funny onstage incident involving one of the members, Niall, which I’d never heard about, nor should I have, because it was so relatively minor and insignificant. In short, he sang “chonce” instead of “chance” for no discernible reason during a concert. But of course, the fandom ran with it, creating memes and cheeky video clips, and it’s now the stuff of 1D legend and lore. I was simultaneously amused and amazed, because I’d never seen the best and most satisfying element of the universal fangirl experience distilled quite so brilliantly into one hyper-specific example. By far, my favorite part of being a superfan of a particular band is feeling connected to hundreds or thousands, if not millions, of strangers across the globe through a set of these inside jokes and references that only the most devoted understand.
It’s a secret language in a sense; an easy way to suss out who REALLY knows the band and who’s just a casual fan. And it doesn’t just apply to boy bands or the pop genre, either. Back in the early-2000s heyday of The Strokes, there were artifacts like the “Fook interview” — which still exists somewhere in the iTunes library of my ancient laptop and which I’ve played at least 75 times — where Nick Valensi croons “You bettah call Tyroooone” after a reference to Erykah Badu, that became a minor obsession among myself and my best friend at the time. We integrated it into our lexicon and loved to quote it at random.
So, naturally, when the pandemic hit in 2020, one of the first places I sought refuge was with “my bands.” The Strokes’ Zoom chats, which they began regularly publishing to YouTube, provided me immense comfort in a time when everything was uncertain. Not only because one of my favorite bands was also “in it” with me, but because seeing them joke around with each other — almost two decades later — instantly produced a rush of the fangirl feelings I had at 17 years old. And of course, a god-sent Strokes stan compiled a video of the best moments from the series, which I’ve watched an undisclosed amount of times (including literally every single time I indulge in the devil's lettuce, which means I laugh so hard I can’t breathe for an entire half hour and have tears in my eyes even though I’ve heard it all at least 20x). It’s such a simple, pure, and beautiful pleasure.
On a related note, fangirls are truly some of the most genuinely witty and hilarious people I’ve encountered in my life. Their ability to riff and expand on established inside jokes with subtle, biting finesse is unparalleled and consistently makes me laugh harder than I’ve ever laughed at any stand-up routine or comedy movie.
But sadly, the only ones who typically really appreciate it are their fellow fangirls. Which makes sense in a way, but it’s unfortunately about more than “getting the joke.” As a part of this world since the age of 11, one thing that’s remained consistent alongside my undying dedication and love for my various bands is, sadly, persistent misogyny from dudes. And this hasn’t only been bothersome to me personally, but I’ve seen — repeatedly — how male music fans actually undermine and discount the talent and legitimacy of excellent bands simply because the members are good looking and a significant chunk of their audience is female and/or younger.
Hanson is a perfect example. While their first releases were indeed pure pop, they wrote all of the songs and played all of the instruments on their (still-solid, aside from the pre-puberty vocals) debut album at 11, 14, and 17 years of age! And yet, to this day, I see references to them as a “boy band,” lumped in with the lip-synching and choreographed acts of that era. While I had to hang up my fan hat after 25ish years with them for non-music-related reasons, I still felt a twinge of simultaneous smugness, validation, and annoyance when I saw a recent piece in The Hard Times (think The Onion for music) that used them as the photo for an article about bands who “made their money and fucked off and did weird shit” and read comments like the following:
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| Yawn |
Us fangirls? We been knew since the ‘90s, bros! Y’all were — and are — just too stubborn/proud/pretentious to open your mind and give things a chance because women like it. Or you’re worried about seeming feminine, or uncool, or whatever the hell your silly reasons are. Yes, musical taste is subjective, but in these cases, it’s rarely ever about the actual music for the dudes in question, even when they claim otherwise. And I can say this with a decent amount of certainty as I’ve obviously pressed them when possible (because I’m me ::laughs wickedly::) to learn, time and time again, that they haven’t actually listened to more than one or two songs — if they’ve listened to any at all! And nothing grinds my gears more than people who run their mouths without actually knowing anything about what they’re saying. Remove head from sphincter, gather more than a soundbite or headline’s worth of knowledge, then talk shit in an educated and reasonable way. Otherwise, keep your damn piehole shut and let women (and other humans in general) enjoy things. I know, I know…it’s the internet. But a fangirl can dream!
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| Wow! Did you know that teenage girls aren't actual human beings with developed interests and tastes? Or that Beatlemania never happened? Or that not a single teenage girl ever liked Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, or The Who? |
Maybe men have experienced the same issue, but as an avid and pretty knowledgeable female music fan (if I may say so myself), I often feel like I’m having to sit in my confidence about great bands that are lambasted or simply dismissed by (overwhelmingly male) music critics and random men on the internet and just wait for the world at large to catch up with me for years on end until they finally get some semblance of long-deserved (though usually begrudging) acceptance and/or recognition.
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| Shocking /s |
Same goes for if I had a dollar for every time I’ve read or heard comments from men like these in the last 20+ years:
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| I almost had a stroke reading the first comment, but you get the idea |
I’d even go so far as to hypothesize that the more fangirls a band has, the better and more impactful the band. Fangirls are tapped in, tuned in, turned on. They just wanna have fun, let their hair down, and enjoy the music without analyzing anything too much. They get it, they put in the time and effort to get it, and better yet, they’re unafraid to be vulnerable and broadcast their love publicly and frequently. Think about it: throughout history, the majority of the bands and artists widely accepted as the greatest of all time had women clamoring for them. Even going back to the frenzy that composer Franz Liszt inspired with “Lisztomania” — no, it’s not just the name of a Phoenix song — in the 1800s! I was laughing out loud reading about it, because the description of the scenes he elicited could just as easily be applied to a Beatles show in the ‘60s, a Zeppelin or Stones show in the ‘70s, a Duran Duran show in the ‘80s, a New Kids on the Block show in the ‘90s, a Backstreet Boys or ‘N Sync show in the very early aughts, a Jonas Brothers or One Direction show in the 2010s, or a Greta Van Fleet show in the 2020s.
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| Smash |
“The reception that Liszt enjoyed, as a result, can be described only as hysterical. Women fought over his silk handkerchiefs and velvet gloves, which they ripped to shreds as souvenirs. This atmosphere was fuelled in great part by the artist's mesmeric personality and stage presence. Many witnesses later testified that Liszt's playing raised the mood of audiences to a level of mystical ecstasy.”
"Mystical ecstasy" is the perfect way to describe the experience of seeing your favorite band live, especially if you’re a fangirl. And while there was no social media and obviously less documentation of the insanity that performers stirred up back then, the fact that this behavior was observed and cataloged just goes to show you that the urge is innate, the impact is noticeable, and that fangirls have always been (and always will be) a constant and key part of music culture. I saw a funny tweet recently that referred to a “fangirl gene” and chuckled because it truly feels that way sometimes. If you’re born a fangirl, you’ll probably die a fangirl. It’s in your blood, man. It just never goes away.
On the Alternative Facts podcast back in 2018, Brian Sella of indie rock duo the Front Bottoms recognized the unparalleled enthusiasm of a younger fan base in general. “I always feel so lucky to have fans like that. Because those are the most passionate people about music. You know, you don’t see older people lining up in front of the doors at 8am to watch us play. It’s all young people that are passionate and the music really means something to them. I feel so lucky to have that group, that demographic, on our side.”
Why is that, though? The obvious answer to me is, in one word, life. When we don’t make time to actively seek out and engage with the things that have always brought us joy and lit us up in our younger years—no matter how silly or frivolous they may seem to those around us—it starts to actually feel uncomfortable, uncool, and even wrong to embrace that childlike sense of fun and wonder again when it taps us on the shoulder again later in life. Which, obviously, is total bullshit. I used to be a bit embarrassed of my over-enthusiastic tendencies, but when it became clear that they’ll never, ever go away despite my best efforts to suppress them, I leaned in and embraced them as yet another expression of my generally upbeat, fun, and passionate personality. And I have to say, I’m much happier as a result. Life’s far too short to be bored, boring, indifferent, or too cool for just about anything.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a concert to go scream at.
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