As she becomes the latest superstar in the ranks of Spotify’s Billions Club, Olivia Rodrigo plays an intimate Barcelona show to her most dedicated fans. Fandom never felt so pure, argues Ben Tibbits

I’m fascinated by fandom. It’s something that, as an individual who grew up primarily listening to 60s folk made by now dead people, and then anthem indie bangers from four blokes whose first name I barely knew, the world of pop culture and the stars that rule it barely touched me. 

Until I moved to London, that is, and began working for a magazine that holds these supernovas at the centre. I recall being fairly new to the job; a boozy midweek, sat in the back of a cab on the way to a gig with a One Direction fan and a Taylor Swift fan. Until then, the concept of a ‘fan’ was closer to an appreciator or admirer, less an all-encompassing devotee.  

I, half jokingly, make my less-than-positive opinion regarding these artists known. A foolish endeavour. I used to take joy in slandering the music of those deemed at the cusp of pop culture – as any pretentious music nerd would. But since, a sour taste in my mouth has developed. Hell hath no fury like the rage in that cab. The vehement gaze of these two new friends obliterated my empty-minded, judgmental musings, and I was forced to back away into a corner of silent retrospect. When it comes to arguing about their favourite artist, the fans always, always win. 

In the years since, I’ve grown to respect fandom. I’ve never quite been swept up in its grasp (although I did have a period being mildly obsessed with Saya Gray), but I’ve certainly been equidistant to its advances. From seeing K-pop stardom in the flesh to being up close and personal to the heat of BRAT, I feel well-equipped in understanding the nuances of parasocialism’s sensibilities.  

Now, seeing firsthand the tidal wave of love for an individual, especially within the context of an intimate live show, is mind-blowing and oddly comforting. And so on a sunny Friday night in Barcelona, as Olivia Rodrigo stands in front of less than two thousand of her biggest fans – her ‘Livies’ – and belted out a set of her beloved bangers, everything feels right in the world.  

Winding back a day earlier, late morning. I don’t think I’ve ever been to Heathrow Terminal 4 before. I’m a T5 merchant normally. T4 still has a Wetherspoons, although I don’t have time to inspect its beauty, as I’ve arrived rather late, and must mosey straight over to my gate and onto my plane to the ever-welcoming Barcelona. 

Is there a better city – for food, culture, sport, music? Certainly not this weekend. On Sunday, the city’s football team’s titanic rivals, Real Madrid, are in town for a title-deciding fixture, the El Clásico. But first, tomorrow, Friday, one of pop’s brightest sparks of the 2020s, Olivia Rodrigo, will be the primary entertainment. 

So, you ask, why would triple Grammy-winning Californian megastar Rodrigo be playing to a Spanish amphitheatre of less than two thousand fans a month before the release of her third studio album, and an arena tour already confirmed for next year? Spotify, of course. 

The streaming giant set the pace in more than just listening consumption. For years now, they’ve been an official partner of Barcelona Football Club, placing iconic artists and their logos on the team’s shirt for a key fixture. Prior artists involved – members of Spotify’s esteemed Billions Club (Olivia boasts nine songs with over a billion streams) – include The Rolling Stones, Travis Scott, Rosalia, Ed Sheeran and Coldplay.

Those lucky few in attendance will be her most dedicated fans, invited only, selected through their Spotify listening habits. Oh, and a handful of press, of course. Someone has to philosophise about it, right?

Touching down in Catalonia, I check in at the hotel – the delightful Grand Wyatt – and grab a sandwich (ciabatta, oven crispy, roast veggies and melted cheese… generational). After catching up on some emails, there’s a pleasant evening drink on the hotel rooftop for the travelling party, accompanied by a small plate situ. Some of the meat dishes look mesmerising. Recent veggie regret knows no bounds.

The next evening arrives, and I’m putting on my smartest shirt and enjoying an espresso martini at the hotel. As late-afternoon becomes evening, we’re escorted onto a school bus and driven to the outskirts of the city to the verdant Elysium of Teatre Grec, an amphitheatre in a garden overlooking the city from high. Out of the bus, we walk past a queue wrapping around the upward hill. It’s the Livies, consisting of mostly teenagers and young adults, many in the shiny new Barca-Rodrigo merch. The excitement is palpable. Although some of them throw some shady looks in our direction. Like, who are these old people queue-jumping? It’s a good question.

There’s some time to take in the gorgeous gardens before the concert kicks off. Punters queue for free tacos. The atmosphere is relaxed. Until, at the slightest inkling of noise from the amphitheater, the droves of staunch supporters dart towards the seats as close to the stage as possible. 

I take a seat in the far left corner of the arena. A colosseum of pop. Rodrigo enters the blistering noise from Rodrigo’s pantheon of unceasing admirers. The decibels carry to the ocean, I’m sure. 

The set itself is faultless. Easing through hits from her plucky 2021 debut, Sour and its grungy 2023 follow-up, Guts, as well as “drop dead”, her new single and first glimpse into her forthcoming third studio album, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, set for release on 12th June. Her charisma flows well beyond the bounds of her current theatre; the crowd belongs to Olivia, and vice versa. There’s a symbiosis between audience and artist that doesn’t always happen; something infallible, intimate, and introspective. Spiritual. It’s affecting.

The set flies by. The crowd screams for one last time. I need a sit-down. Am I a newly appointed member of the Livies? I wouldn’t go that far. But there’s a real sense of community within the fanbase, and for an hour, thanks to Spotify and their ambition, I felt a small part of it. Nice one.