The Art of the support act

Written by Sophie Lee . Founder and Editor . 23/06/26

Support acts are a necessity. Before the sold-out tours, festival headline slots and chart success, every artist starts somewhere. Nobody emerges fully formed to a crowd of thousands chanting their name. Instead, they spend years playing to rooms full of strangers, trying to convince people who didn't buy a ticket to see them that they're worth paying attention to.

Support acts are often treated as an inconvenience. We've all seen it. People arrive late, stay at the pub for another drink, continue conversations through entire sets or simply decide that the night doesn't begin until the headliner walks on stage. It is an odd contradiction. Music fans are constantly searching for the next artist to obsess over, yet many skip one of the easiest opportunities to discover them.

One example that always makes me laugh is Five Seconds of Summer opening for One Direction in Croke Park. At the time, they were the support act. Years later, they have built a career that has outlived the band they were opening for. On the other hand, stories of audiences talking through Paramore's support slot for Taylor Swift feel almost impossible to comprehend. Paramore are one of the most influential alternative bands of the last two decades, yet even they once stood on a stage fighting for the attention of a crowd waiting for somebody else.

Being a support act might be one of the hardest jobs in music.

A headliner walks on stage to a crowd that already loves them. The audience knows the songs, understands the references and has spent weeks, months or even years waiting for the moment to see them.

Support acts don't have that luxury.

Instead, they are given thirty minutes, maybe an hour if they are lucky, to win over a room full of people who are focused on someone else. It feels a little like standing in front of a group of strangers and delivering a presentation where nobody chose to attend. The challenge isn't just performing well, it's convincing people to care in the first place.

Every song becomes an introduction. Every crowd reaction becomes a measure of whether the connection is working. In an age where artists are judged instantly and attention spans are shorter than ever, that is no easy task.

The reality is that every major artist was once the name printed in smaller letters on a poster.

Artists such as Chappell Roan, Sam Fender and Fontaines D.C. spent years building audiences through support slots, smaller stages and festival appearances before becoming some of the most celebrated names in music. Nobody starts at the top. Careers are built one audience at a time.

Support slots provide something that social media and streaming services cannot replicate. They place artists directly in front of people who may never have chosen to listen to them otherwise. While algorithms often feed us music that resembles what we already enjoy, support acts can challenge our expectations. Sometimes the artist you end up talking about all the way home is not the one whose name was on the ticket.

Music discovery isn't linear. It doesn't only happen through Spotify recommendations, TikTok trends or carefully curated playlists.

Some of the most memorable discoveries happen by accident.

Maybe you arrive early to avoid the queue. Maybe your friend insists on seeing the support act. Maybe you simply decide to put your phone away and pay attention. However it happens, there is something exciting about hearing an artist for the first time without any expectations.

In a world where so much of our listening is guided by algorithms, support acts offer an increasingly rare experience.

Maybe that's why I have always had a soft spot for support acts. They represent possibility. The audience doesn't know whether they're watching a future festival headliner or a band that will never play a stage this size again. For those thirty minutes, anything feels possible.

The next time you're tempted to skip the support act, arrive a little earlier. The artist standing on that stage may never become a household name. Then again, they might become the next Sam Fender, Fontaines D.C. or Chappell Roan. The only way to find out is to listen.