In an era where playlists are perpetually exchanged and viral sounds dominate social platforms, music has increasingly transformed from a shared joy into a competitive arena. The focus now lies on who discovered the artist first or who can claim superior taste. This shift raises the question of when music became a battleground rather than a unifying force. Historically, gatekeeping in music fandom has existed, but the rise of social media has amplified this behavior, turning everyone into guardians of exclusive clubs they wish to preserve. Platforms like TikTok have made it easier for songs to gain rapid popularity, yet this success often sparks resentment among original fans. Ultimately, this competitive mindset hinders the true essence of music, which should be about collective enjoyment and emotional connection.

The transformation of music appreciation into a competition is not a recent phenomenon. For decades, enthusiasts have guarded their favorite artists as if protecting sacred territory. However, with the advent of social media, this behavior has escalated dramatically. According to Geoff Durso, a psychological scientist and assistant professor at DePaul University, this trend is deeply rooted in identity. Fans don't merely enjoy the music; they derive a sense of "coolness" and authenticity from it. This group identity leads to a mentality where being a "real" fan becomes more important than the music itself. Urban Outfitters' Nirvana t-shirts and debates over Taylor Swift’s fan base exemplify this dynamic, where enjoying music becomes less about personal pleasure and more about proving superiority over others.

Social media platforms like TikTok have revolutionized how music spreads, allowing songs to achieve overnight fame. Yet, this newfound power often incites indignation among initial fans. Jerome Dixon, a senior film major at DePaul, observes that TikTok opposes the exclusivity that gatekeepers desire. It democratizes discovery, letting anyone find and enjoy artists previously reserved for niche audiences. Once an artist goes viral, early fans rush to assert their precedence, labeling newcomers as "basic." In a society obsessed with individuality, anything mainstream is deemed unoriginal, creating a paradox where standing out has become its own trend. People strive to appear unique, yet this pursuit often results in conformity.

This competitive spirit extends beyond just discovering new artists. Music has become intertwined with personal identity, making it a tool for social validation. Courtney Wilbur, a freshman communications major at DePaul, notes that social media has intensified this rivalry. Individuals feel compelled to prove their uniqueness by aligning with lesser-known artists, fearing judgment from peers. This mindset transforms music into a contest of bragging rights, where being the first to discover an artist trumps genuine enjoyment. Durso adds that many fans gravitate toward certain genres not because of a deep connection but due to the social currency it provides. Music, therefore, loses its artistic value and becomes a status symbol.

Ultimately, music should foster unity, not division. The rise of social media has turned what was once a communal experience into a social battlefield. Instead of reveling in the joy of discovery together, we engage in contests of social superiority. To reclaim the true essence of music, we must shift our focus from competing over who knew an artist first to appreciating the art for what it is. As Durso suggests, enthusiasm for sharing beloved music can bridge gaps and bring people closer. Let us remember that music's true value lies in the emotions it evokes and the connections it fosters, not in who claims ownership first.