“Why isn’t my favorite band more popular?”
I frequent various music forums and sites. One comment I always see is a complaint; depending on the person, it will look different, but the message is the same: “Why isn’t my favorite band more popular?”
Music is deeply personal. It speaks to people on both a conscious and subconscious level and often expresses what words cannot. That’s a big reason why people get so passionate about a song, album, or band. (The more shallow aspects of the music industry, such as looks and fashion, can only do so much.) So when a group that a fan connect to in such a visceral way doesn’t quite connect to the general public at large the way it did with them, I think it could be seen as a personal slight to those fans.
They might scream lack of taste from the public at hand, poor marketing from a label, payola, lack of payola, you name it. (These criticisms and excuses are easy to come by on the internet—especially the dregs of humanity that are online comment sections.) But what those fans need to realize is that “stop liking what I don’t like,” and, conversely, “listen to only what I like” is stilly and unrealistic. The real world doesn’t work that way. People are going to listen to what they like. You can make the world’s greatest argument as to why you should like a band, but that doesn’t mean other people are going to start listening to them.
This all boils down to one thing: taste is relative. Every person is wired a different way. And you know what? That’s the way it ought to be.
The way each musician and artist approaches music differs than the next because no two person thinks alike. Two groups might release a similar song about falling in love, but they’ll go about it in a contrasting way. One might be in a major key and the other minor, one ironic and cynical and the other punch-drunk and sentimental.
Just as how people create differently, people consume differently as well. If that wasn’t the case, we’d live in a world where everyone had the same tastes, thought and believed the same things, ate the same foods, watched the same shows and movies, spoke the same language, listened to the same music. Imagine living in a world like that—it would almost be as boring as watching a film of paint drying for ten hours. (Which is a real thing, by the way.)
This leads me to the most ridiculous part of that aforementioned question: why should you care what other people think? If you like something, like it. If you don’t, don’t. That’s fine! Taste is relative. (That’s why I never understood the idea of guilty pleasures, but that’s another discussion for another day.) When it comes to musical preferences, you should only worry about you, and you alone. When your favorite band isn’t selling out arenas, you get to see them in more intimate settings without having to deal with tickets being sold out.
There’s one other thing to think about: maybe other people haven’t heard of your favorite band, or only know one or two songs. That should be seen not as a slight, but as an opportunity to share your passion with others by introducing those people to your favorite group. It’s easier to do so now than ever thanks to the internet—not to mention Music Aficionado. I for one love to hear my favorite bands through new ears and eyes; their songs will always sound new and fresh to me, even if I’ve heard them a thousand times.
At the end of the day, in the words of Oasis, it’s just rock ’n’ roll.
