I am the type of fan who immediately and gleefully buys your albums the day they are released. I set aside time to focus on and immerse myself in your latest offering. I know all the lyrics, and every note, on every album, I even sing along in the car. I am the type of fan who enthuses about your music at every opportunity, I am always recruiting new fans. I go to your concerts, I sing, I scream, I even jump when you tell me to.
But I am a terrible fan. I am sorry. If you offer a Q&A, I am not going to ask you what your favorite color is, or if you prefer blondes. I am going to ask you about the inspiration behind a favorite song, how you achieved that glorious sound, or simply express my appreciation for that amazing drum, bass line, or guitar solo. Perhaps I will ask about the ongoing diversity in sound across the album. How you must hate me.
I don't know a lot about your personal life, and I don't mean to be rude, but that's not my business. I just love your music. That's what brought me to you. I suppose I confuse you.
I am not going to cry at the mere sight of you, I am not going to keep my hand unwashed evermore because you touched it. And if you throw your water bottle out at me...I am not going to drink from it. Also, I don't like being spit upon. I am ungrateful.
I think you are just people, very talented people that have touched my life, but people just the same. I expect any business transactions between us to be fulfilled, and I am not the sort of fan that will be happy that you even bothered to show up at a Meet & Greet. I am the sort of fan that expects you to. I have respect for myself and my money. I wouldn't willingly pay $500 for a 30 second pic with you. I am the worst fan.
I can see why you would be confused, I meet so many fans that would overlook any obnoxious behavior you indulge in simply because you are you. I am sorry. I can't be one of them. Your presence doesn't send me in to hysterics. I am wired wrong. Clearly we disappoint each other.
So musicians beware. We walk among you, blending in to the crowd, completely unidentifiable aside from the lack of tears and hysteria. At first glance you will assume we are part of the herd because we sing along and scream, but don't be fooled. We won't ask you about your dating preference or for your number, we will ask you about your music.
We are terrible fans.