Right now, the most contentious age-gap debate is the one about who gets to go to Sombr concerts. Last week, a 25-year-old named Meg posted an eight-minute review of her experience at his D.C. show—and in short, she did not have a very good time. She didn’t love the frequent “67” references, or any of the suggestive crowd work, and most notably, the fact that she was one of the only adults in the room (she compared the audience makeup to that at “a middle school dance”). Her video, now at over six million views, inspired a wave of takes weighing in on the situation. Some blamed the show’s young crowd on a general lack of tween-focused media, while others questioned if performers like Sombr should have to self-censor for an underaged fanbase they never asked for. On another hand, many questioned whether it’s even fair to expect a mature crowd at Sombr's show, given that he’s only 20—something he addressed in his official response to the drama.
But Meg’s post also started a conversation about why it can be frustrating to be on the older end of the spectrum at a show. That experience isn’t unique to Sombr sets; plenty of popular artists attract school-aged fans who still benefit from their parents’ disposable income, and their live show attendance reflects that. Now that I’m firmly in my mid-20s and have finally accepted that I’m no longer the youngest person alive, I can speak to the haunting realization that you might be one of the more mature fans at a show. You arrive at a concert ready to disconnect and enjoy some lovely live renditions, only to find yourself surrounded by equally eager fans barely out of middle school. At best, it’s just a reminder that time comes for us all. At worst, it distracts from the show you paid good money for. The nagging worry that you’re chopped and have aged out of what you enjoy (plus the questionable etiquette of younger fans who don't yet know better) can pull you out of the moment.
Before you spiral and rip off your 21+ wristband in existential despair, know that I've collected some guidance on how to handle this. Here are some easy tips on how to stay present and enjoy the show without resenting younger attendees who have the right to enjoy it with you.
Leave the pit alone
If you like being pushed, shoved, and spilled on, go ahead and claim a spot by the barricade queen. But if you'd like to protect your peace as an elder member of the crowd, I suggest you opt for a seat. It can offer just as good a view, room to move, and a place to rest your legs. Most, if not all, post-concert rant videos cite a lack of personal space. Avoid the stage-side chaos and pop a squat.
Take advantage of the short bar lines
I will admit this is a minor consolation. But if the majority of your fellow concertgoers are years away from the legal drinking age, you’ll only be in line with parental guardians and your fellow elders. You’re less likely to miss part of the set waiting for your tequila soda. A small but lovely perk.
Make fun of yourself
The “Am I too old to be here?” TikTok audio is almost exclusively used by concertgoers in this very predicament. Because the situation itself is comical. Being 25 and overhearing a fellow crowd member’s pre-algebra woes is the stuff of sitcoms. If nothing else, get some good content out of the situation. Make the aforementioned TikTok. Do some live reporting on the state of Gen Alpha on your close friends story. Shamelessly mine this for clout.
Remember (and this is corny) that enjoyment has no age limit
Teenagers online may act like 23 is retirement age, but you’re not immature for loving the music that makes you happy. Aging brings more than enough pressures, so why add arbitrary limits on fun? Don’t let your fellow concertgoers’ average age dictate your ability to enjoy a show. Focus on your experience and don’t let that ticket money go to waste. As a wise soul on Reddit put it: “The time to stop going to concerts is when you're dead.”
