As a music journalist, I tend to look at legions of fans with only professional interest — what they mean to the industry and how I can make sure they don't find out where I live. Last week, however, I suddenly had to face the fact that I'm in one — and have been for the past 35 years. And I realized that many creators may need to change the way they think about cultivating and maintaining superfans.
I went to Stockholm last week to see Bruce Springsteen, one of my favorite artists, for at least the 30th time. I stayed in a hotel near the venue, which was full of people like me — by which I mean Springsteen fans of a certain age (ahem) who wanted to see the concert enough to travel from all over Northern Europe and, in some cases, the U.S. Many came with spouses or children, and some planned to see a few shows — or even for a few weeks. One couple said they were happy that Springsteen is now giving himself a few days off between concerts, as it has given them more time for sightseeing during the holidays they arrange around concerts.
These people do not see themselves as part of an army of followers. They do not alias or collect different versions of the same CD. Me neither. Actually, I feel a little cheesy saying that this concert was one of the highlights of my summer, or that I spent a few hundred dollars to go, but I did, and it was worth it. After the show, about two dozen people gathered in the lobby after the show to talk about trade war highlights and stories, and some of them gathered again the next night after canceled flights left them stranded in Stockholm. I feel even more disgusted at how much I enjoyed this.
Whatever. From a music business perspective, that's exactly what superfans do I am doing. One difference between him and most is that Springsteen built his audience the old-fashioned way—with memorable live shows that convinced fans to come back and bring friends (and, these days, kids). The people at my hotel are obviously the exception—I'm talking a few dozen people in a venue that holds more than 50,000—but at this point I think Springsteen's concerts mostly attract serious fans. (Springsteen opened with “Seeds,” which was only released as a live performance on a 1986 box set, so I'm guessing he thinks the same.) And while it's hard to be sure, I think most of them won gigs.
These days, music executives are less focused on live concerts — how live are most pop acts anyway? — and more for hit singles. Armies of fans are created online, usually around the shared experience of hoping a song goes to No.1 or buying extra copies to boost it. But how long will this last? The music you love when you're young tends to stay with you, but going to concerts can have more appeal over time than gossiping about where the charts are online. Cultivating an audience engaged enough to return year after year can be much more difficult — but it can also be more effective.
The problem is that this part of the business is hard to see in the data. Industry executives often talk about how much superfans are worth when it comes to CDs or tchotchkes buy, but the impact of returning fans over the years is harder to measure. I saw one Springsteen show this year and two last year, which doesn't really move the needle. The 30-something shows I've seen would be, of course, but those were over a period of 36 years — starting, if you're curious, with the Tunnel of Love tour in May 1988. (I was already a fan enough to attend two of five shows — and then I was Really hooked.)
What keeps me coming back – and I think what keeps most fans coming back – is that Springsteen delivers concerts that are consistently great and quite different. If he had an off day, I haven't seen it. At the same time, he makes every tour different and changes the setlist every night, with moments of genuine magic — in Stockholm he delivered a haunting “Racing in the Street” and pulled a kid on stage to sing the chorus of “Waitin” on a sunny day. ” Others keep coming back to hear rare favorites – seeing Springsteen play 'Jole Blon' in September 2012 was a profound experience for me, even if most of my friends had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.
You could say a lot of these things about a lot of rock bands – there was a time when playing a different set every night was the rule rather than the exception. And it seems to attract people. Fans love the curveball of a cover, and some even appreciate the flubs – there's a lot more at stake without the artificial perfection that comes from a click track. Communities are built by appreciation, comparison and, yes, understanding different performances. Just read it New Yorker story about Dead & Company to get the idea.
Like any true fan, I will say that Springsteen is different. More than any other artist today, he believes – and makes the audience believe, at least for the time he's on stage – that rock really matters, that there's more at stake on stage than entertainment, that this kind of music can really get you maintain. As I get older, with less time to drive down an empty highway for no reason, it becomes harder to believe. But I would like to. Maybe in a way it needs to — so much so that I'll be back next year and possibly the year after that again.
