A fan by definition: What will become of the Northern identities defined by music?

The pandemic had a devastating effect on the music industry. We stand to lose more than just a few good tunes, writes Polly Riggs.

It’s 2011. I’m 15 years old, standing in a dusty field just outside of Reading with my best friend and her long-suffering dad, eyes transfixed on the stage. On swaggers a thin, gangly figure in thick black glasses. The crowd goes wild. I go wild. We’re all swept up in this wave of joy, listening to one of our favourite bands, united by the beat and the smell of three day old sweat on the breath of the summer evening.

Flash forward three years. I’m staying in Manchester for the first time as an adult, queuing for a nightclub on the promise of cheap drinks with my boyfriend and his new flatmates. We get inside. It’s sweaty, the atmosphere is heavy and the floor is sticky with £1 shots gone awry. The Courteeners come on over the speakers: the crowd goes wild. We all jump simultaneously on the dancefloor, everyone singing their hearts out. I think, for the first time since seeing Pulp at Reading festival three years earlier: “I’m home.”

When talking about music and identity, it's these two moments that stand out for me. Certainly when I was in my formative years, music played a key role in how I defined myself (ie. ‘an Arctic Monkeys fan’). Being a teenager or young adult is tough: you really don’t know who you are or what you’re supposed to be doing most of the time, and music provides a flag in the ground you can hold onto and say “this is me”.

For many people, music plays such an important part in defining their identity that it can change behaviours entirely. I put a call out on Twitter asking for stories of people who link music to their identity. Steff Hanson, from Worcestershire, described how music can shape her personality: “I find that I am a lot more confident when rock/alternative music plays, and more emotionally reflective when listening to classical music.”  

“It’s like there are two different sides to my personality, and both are shaped by the music I listen to,” she added. Similarly, music can go some way to healing emotional scars for many people. Singer BBFeenix explains “music helped me escape domestic violence and heal from PTSD, cope with grief and build my self confidence back to its natural state.” Clearly, music can play a key role in shaping personalities and providing an outlet for emotion.  

I moved to Manchester for the music. From my little town in East Sussex, the grit and passion of the city that had produced Oasis, The Stone Roses, Joy Division, Happy Mondays - it was just cool. Northern cities have long defined themselves by their musical heritage. The link between music and the identity of a city seems more prevalent in the North: Deby Jackson, editor of That Leeds Magazine, notes that “music that we hear on the streets of Leeds certainly gives it character.” The same can be said with a visit to Manchester or Liverpool - music is part of the lifeblood of these cities.

When we finally emerge from the pandemic, blinking in the sunlight, what will have become of the teenagers who need music, particularly live music, to help shape their identity? American-born Nicole Russin-McFarland is clear about the importance of live music to young people in particular: “a live performance is life-changing for everyone who sees it. It inspires you in some way. If the immediate future is only long-distance, audience-free performances, that is the saddest thing ever.”

Not everyone is as pessimistic about the consequences of the pandemic on the live music industry. Jackson notes that “people will be incredibly keen to attend concerts” post-pandemic, and the soaring demand may reverse some of the closures of live music venues we have seen across the country in recent years.

With live music potentially headed online for at least the short term, “future generations will have available music in a way we never had before,” BBFeenix says. The pandemic could see music become accessible to more people than ever before, no longer the exclusive club of those who can afford gig tickets and arrange travel.

One thing is for sure, young people need music. In my experience, it can act as something of a liferaft for the teenager who’s still trying to figure out who they are and what it all means. We can only hope that the rise of performance live streams and the increased demand for concerts post-pandemic will be enough to begin to reverse the damage 2020 inflicted on the music industry.

Otherwise, we risk leaving a whole generation of young people to struggle to define their identity, without the crucial support of their favourite band.

Words: Polly Riggs

Make sure you check out our Only A Northern One Spotify playlist here.