OCT 24, 2024 | ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT | By Maya Rosen
In today’s culture, especially within Colorado College, there seems to be a universal fear of “posing.” That is, being viewed as a person who pretends to like something for the sake of being cool or fitting in. Authenticity — or perceived authenticity — has become a cultural currency. We find ourselves competing in self-assigned trivia battles of factual knowledge about people we’ll never meet. We’re afraid to wear band tees with logos we like if we can’t name three songs. I myself am not immune to the fears of this culture and often shy away from saying the artists I like, because I wouldn’t be able to rattle off a list of my favorite songs and what year they came out. I find myself skirting around these probing conversations with the humble, “I’ll listen to anything.”
The reality I’ve learned between shuffling my liked songs in carpools and dating self-proclaimed “music enthusiasts,” is that in many ways, I am a poser. I only listen to music when I’m driving, walking somewhere alone, or getting ready for class. I don’t know album titles or lyrics. I’ve never listened to an artist’s entire discography. I am a clear case of fan imposter syndrome.
It seems that in a world with endless knowledge at our fingertips, a lack of knowledge has become an embarrassment. While this may in some situations be valid, in terms of spreading misinformation and the like, it also prevents many of us from sharing our interests or passions out of fears of seeming like we don’t know what we’re talking about. The issue with this ideology of needing to be an expert in all that we do is it prevents us from trying anything new. This brings me to the very simple but terrifying question: What if we stopped caring about fitting in and simply enjoyed things without needing to be experts?
Earlier this month a friend offered me a cheap concert ticket the day-of. It was Still Woozy’s concert at Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre. For an affordable ticket at a venue I had heard so much about, who wouldn’t go? The only issue? I had never heard of Still Woozy. I bought the ticket anyway, listened to the set list halfway through and a few hours later, I was off.
In the car ride there I was asked my favorite Still Woozy song. I couldn’t recollect a single title, even with my two hours of pre-concert cramming. I commonly might have skirted around this question, with an “I like them all” or a quick under-the-table Google search. Instead, I confronted it, “I don’t know,” I said, “I just started listening today.” I half expected the car to skirt to a halt on the side of the highway, and kick me out. They did not care at all. “Oh cool,” the driver said, “this will be fun!”
The concert featured openers of Paw Paw Rod and Gus Dapperton, who opened the stage with hits like “Hit Em Where it Hurts” and “Prune, You Talk Funny.” These tunes rang vaguely familiar in my mind. I’m sure I had heard them on a friend’s car radio, or my TikTok FYP at some point. As the crowd filtered in, I relaxed a bit as I saw they were as familiar with the openers as I was. We all swayed along, as unfamiliar lyrics filled the air and seemed perfectly content with learning and listening to these songs at the same moment.
This same mentality took me over as Still Woozy took the stage. As my friends shouted “I love this song!” as the first two chords were played, and sang along to every lyric, and I humbly bopped my head along. Still, no one cared. I left that night, having discovered a new artist I like, and my friends left having seen one of their musical idols. We all had a great evening.
While I may not recommend conducting this same experiment at The Eras Tour, I don’t regret the time and (small amount of) money I spent at this show. I got to try out a beautiful venue for the first time and experiment with some great new music. I quickly learned how irrational my fears were. After all, wasn’t it a bit narcissistic of me to think people would be looking at my motionless lips, rather than the show in front of them that they paid to see?
In a world that often pressures us to be experts in everything, it’s easy to feel like a “poser” when we don’t have all the answers. But putting ourselves in those situations that make us feel othered (like attending a concert with no prior knowledge, or writing an article reviewing a concert with very limited musical knowledge) can be liberating. Authenticity isn’t about knowing it all–it’s about embracing what we like, even if we’re just discovering it.