"The only way you can sell 10 million Britney Spears records is to convince kids that it's something they need to have as part of their identity. It's not about the music at that point," said Jeff Tweedy of the band Wilco in The Big Takeover magazine.
It's the "if each Dorito isn't an equilateral triangle, I'm suing. And believe me, one of my people will have a protractor" attitude.
I think I may be giving them too much credit.
Some friends and I ventured down to Tucson last Saturday to see a favorite artist of ours, Devendra Banhart. Over two hours and five anxious fans later, the venue's doorman is asking for identification.
It's a bar.
(This may be the only time someone complains about the drinking age for the sake of concert going and not, well, drinking's sake.)
Too bad we're all under 21. We walked around back, felt even sorrier for ourselves and wondered what to do.
Luckily, Banhart caught wind of the situation and came over to apologize to us. We suddenly found ourselves grinning and peeing our pants.
He figured the only way to get us in the club was to have us "be in the band" for song number four. Every girl in the "I'm with the band" Urban Outfitters (or maybe that's from Wal-Mart) tee was so jealous of me right then.
Introduced by Banhart as his "underage friends," we sang along to "This Beard is for Siobhan" in front of a multitude of drunken, picture-taking people. And it was amazing.
I think what was more spectacular though, was simply Banhart.
He wasn't in the backroom throwing fits about what requests of his weren't filled.
Instead, Banhart spent time helping out a few newfound friends: a couple of younger fans that seemed to be out of luck.
And here a bridge -- one usually missed in mainstream pop -- is filled.
I mean, sure, it's nice of Britney to sign CDs in the midst of a two-day long marriage. And I'm sure pop divas have responded to sob stories much worse than the one presented by me on Oct. 8.
But to tell you the truth, I can't seem to dig up any sort of charitable actions from the "better than thous." You can decide whether the media's lack of positivity or my forgetfulness contributes at all to this.
Really, how much sincerity can anyone attribute to those types of actions anyway? That's right: none.
I suppose it would be somewhat difficult to be close to your fans when there are a bazillion.
But, Eminem doesn't seem to even have the desire: "It'd be stupid for me to sit here and say that there aren't kids who look up to me, but my responsibility is not to them. I'm not a baby sitter."
Oh my.
So as a musician, who exactly is your responsibility to?
Artists like Banhart demonstrate that there is more to a musician than the ratio of red-to-green M&Ms in a dressing room.
They have managed to still fit their heads through the door, all the while loving their fans. This is why I can regularly e-mail my favorite artists and know they'll remember me.
This is why I managed to drive 120 miles without knowing the club is three years my senior, but still had the best night of my life.
They've really got my back.
Celeste Sepessy is a pretentious journalism and Italian freshman. You can reach her for music recommendations at celeste.sepessy@asu.edu.
