The Excessively, Embarrassingly Online Amanda Palmer
I am eternally amused by clueless boomers who respond to concert listings on Facebook with comments like, “Gene, Paul! I am the world’s biggest Kiss fan! Kiss Army, represent! I can’t wait to see you! My buddy and I went to all of your tours in the mid-1980s, but then I got a hip replacement a few months ago, so I have to be more selective in terms of physical activity, but we’ll go to at least one of the shows in October.”
Rock stars are extremely busy people. They travel around the world performing for ecstatic fans. They eat at the finest restaurants and stay at the nicest hotels. They act in movies and record albums and have their own lines of tequila or skincare.
They sleep with groupies and consume drugs and alcohol in mass quantities.
Rock stars are too busy to read the comments on Facebook ads for their tours. Yet that somehow does not keep fans from writing comments directly to rich celebrities as if they’re old pals excited to be reunited, not strangers with a one-sided relationship where one party is a huge fan, and makes fandom a big part of their life and personalities, and the other party is someone who spends lots of time, money and energy supporting the lives and careers of people they’ll never meet, and who will never know they exist.
A good definition of Manic Pixie Dream Girl is “Woman with a ukelele covering Radiohead
At least, that’s how things usually work. There are always exceptions that prove the rule. I encountered one while doom-scrolling through Facebook, an increasingly toxic, right-wing, and worthless social media site.
I was surprised to see concert dates for Amanda Palmer. She’s the focus of unwanted attention due to a flood of ugly accusations directed at her ex-husband, Neil Gaiman, and her apparent complicity in his crimes.
Palmer has cultivated an image as someone open and vulnerable towards her fans, who stands naked before the world, literally and metaphorically. She promises intimacy and exposure. She wants to remove the barrier between artist and fan.
This has gotten her into trouble with critics who see her openness as calculating and pragmatic, particularly after she infamously made seven digits on Patreon from superfans, then "paid" backup musicians with hugs and good vibes.
The stories about Gaiman’s fall from grace depict Palmer as someone who, at the very least, knew that her husband was a serial sexual predator yet made no real effort to protect the vulnerable young women he abused.
If I were Palmer, I would wait until the tumult surrounding my relationship with my ex-husband subsided before playing live again.
Ever the provocateur, Palmer chose a different route. She decided to play a pair of upcoming solo piano gigs. She can pay herself with hugs and good vibes.
I wasn’t the only one surprised and concerned at the timing.
Many of the comments were supportive of Palmer. Others asked why she’d do concerts now when the whole world was talking about the horrible things the formerly beloved fantasy writer and self-styled male feminist she was married to was credibly accused of and her role in his destructive and hypocritical existence.
Palmer was not passive. If the Facebook verification system is to be believed, Palmer devoted a substantial amount of time, energy, and effort into personally responding to many comments on a post about her shows.
She thanked commenters who gushed over her and applauded her greatness, oftentimes using rose emojis. When people asked when she’d make a statement about her ex-husband and their relationship, she said that she couldn’t say anything while she was still amid custody hearings.
It’s possible that “Amanda Palmer” was an AI bot or an intern. If so, it did an excellent job of replicating her voice.
One commenter said that they hoped that there were vigorous and honest Q&A sessions that were shared online. Palmer thanked her for the comment, with an emoji or two, before she clarified that she’d misinterpreted her comment as being far more positive and supportive than it was.
It was damage control in real time. Palmer was so eager to salvage what’s left of her reputation and her career that she waded into a simultaneously supportive, critical, and conflicted comment section and defended herself on a person-by-person basis.
She was extremely careful and deliberate. She tried, and failed, to strike a tricky tone that would placate critics and skeptics without coming off as overly defensive.
It was weird and sad. If I worked in PR I would have seen it as unprofessional, counter-productive and more than a little desperate. Palmer was so thirsty for praise and validation that she seeked it out on a comment-by-comment basis while delicately steering clear of the abundant anger of former fans and people who never liked her anyway.
Famous rock stars ALMOST INVARIABLY refrain from reading and responding to comments from randos on Facebook.
Palmer unwittingly illustrated why that’s a good idea, particularly during times of crisis, with her cringe-inducing social media strategy.
Nathan needed expensive, life-saving dental implants, and his non-existent dental plan didn’t cover them, so he started a GoFundMe at https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-nathans-journey-to-dental-implants. Give if you can!
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