Crabs in a Bucket: The Issue with the Underground
- The Setlist
- Oct 7, 2024
- 3 min read
Written By: Asher Mills
Edited By: Bridget Gallagher
Photo Credits: Eli Imadali @eliimadali.jpg on instagram
We have entered a new epoch for music. Just two decades ago, popular music
was defined not just by who had the most star appeal, but who had the biggest backing
monetarily. Radio was king of the musical landscape, and all-seeing, all-hearing record
labels loomed over the industry like money-hungry corporations.
Back in the days of vinyl, music wasn't some ubiquitous commodity, but rather an
investment. You couldn’t just listen to any song or album whenever you wanted to. You
had to go to the store to buy it, listen to it on whatever radio station you had, or get a
strange new MP3 player to buy it digitally.
This inherent aspect in the industry of constraining the music one could listen to
had a name: gatekeeping. Soon, gatekeeping became a part of one’s identity. Coalitions
of fans would form to support a certain genre or artist, and a new underbelly of music
would peak out, called the underground.
Photo Credits: Newcastle Chronicle
The underground was filled with neglected or overlooked artists. They made
music that didn’t, and wasn’t meant to fit within the current mold of record label-backed
popstars. With the recent evolution of digital music, streaming services, and social
media, one has to beg the question: is there even an underground anymore?
We see it time and time again, artists who belong to a certain community being
launched into stardom by “parochials” and outsiders, not fully comprehending the depth
of the art they appropriate. Despite those success stories, there is a plethora of unsung
martyrs; artists trying to break through who are bogged down and constrained by people
who believe their art to be less than.
New-age gatekeepers have decided that, instead of opening up their doors,
they’ll close them tighter. They will try to prevent any mainstream success from coming
to their beloved artists, and ensuring that the art they don’t identify with remains buried.
In the modern era, parasocial relationships have become concerningly
commonplace.
The barrier between artist and listener has thinned to the point of
quasi-nonexistence in the face of social media. As such, artists have become virtual
“vessels” for their listeners, embodiments of those who support them. A negative
outlook on the fans can very well become a negative outlook on the art itself.
However, dislike and ostracization from the cultural conscience isn’t the only
potential issue in regards to new and upcoming artists. Due to this newfound
intimacy between artist and listener, audiences have also become more possessive.
They are now ambassadors for this artist, and any newcomer is seen as taking away
their “equity,” thus reducing their value as a fan.
Photo Credits: Erin Feinberg https://erinfeinberg.com/
So what do these fans do when faced with a growing audience and a lowered
status? They bring them down. Crab mentality is something that is incredibly pervasive
and almost entirely embedded within Western society. Its name is derived from the
behavior of crabs in an open bucket. When one crab tries to exit containment, the other
crabs pull them back in, ensuring what is essentially total group destruction.
We are not so different. When a gatekeeper sees their artist—their
muse—becoming successful, or even an artist they don’t see the appeal of reaching
over the sides of the bucket, feeling the warmth of the sun, the acceptance of a larger
fanbase, they can do nothing but try to pull them back down and halt their escape,
ensuring obscurity for the rest of their careers.
Has this trend tangibly damaged artists? Or has the internet done away with it
altogether, reducing the power of gatekeeping to almost nothingness? We repeatedly
see well-respected, Grammy-winning, masters-of-their-craft musicians suddenly being
labeled nothing more than a “TikTok artist” after one of their songs became popular on
the platform. The fans will essentially do away with certain artists who have gained too
much popularity in the wrong spaces. Music critics will even be harassed online for
rating certain albums or showcasing artists with particularly obsessive fans.
This outrage and disdain comes from an inner pride that many fans have. This
recurring, “I understand this thing better than you do,” mentality that allows them to
maintain their superiority over those who are only now finding these songs. In some of
these online and underground areas, music is no longer an art form meant to be shared
and appreciated, but a tool for your identity and social status. Something meant to be
guarded closely and hidden from those who may depreciate it.
Regardless of the opinions of these fans, good music will find a way to rise. The
internet is such a vast landscape, and thankfully, no coalition of guards can stop music
from being appreciated.
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