A guide to a better concert experience as someone with autism

When I tell people that I love going to concerts and that I am autistic, they are often confused, as these two things can seem very contradictory. I very much understand their thought process: concerts contain many components that many people with autism usually struggle with — things like crowds, loud noise, and new places. However, concerts are also a source of immense joy for me. Nothing makes me happier than being at a show.

Despite it being overwhelming, happiness is always worth it to me. Over many years and concerts, I have found some things that can help me to have a better concert experience, and in honour of autism awareness month, I have tried my best to summarize these, creating a non-exhaustive guide to enjoying concerts more as someone with autism.

I do want to add that this is written from my personal experience, and every autistic person is different, so certain things may not apply to everyone. Still, I hope these insights can help some. Whether you’re autistic too, or otherwise feel overwhelmed during shows. Or if you want to support a concert buddy! A few of these are tangible things to do, others are things to think about regarding the overall experience. A lot of these thoughts may seem obvious to me now, but they were not for the past few years, and I wish I had known and realised this all earlier. 

Sensory tools

I only recently realised that the noise before the show starts — like everyone trying to talk loudly over the pre-show playlist — can be just as overwhelming as the show’s sound. Nothing wrong with wearing earplugs even during that time, or doubling up with noise-cancelling headphones over these. This can be very helpful to save your energy for the show. 

During the show itself, earplugs are crucial to avoid hearing damage anyway, but concerts are loud enough that if you feel more comfortable wearing (noise cancelling) headphones over these still, you can usually hear great anyway. If you’re sensitive to lights, sunglasses or wearing a hat can reduce the intensity (bonus: you look cool).

Fidget toys or something small to hold can be grounding. At more energetic shows, I usually regulate through movement. At calmer shows, I like having something in my hands — for me, it’s a tiny Sylvanian Families bear. Find what works for you! 

Know your tolerance and transition time

A thing that is useful for you to think about is what arrival time works best for you. This is usually a balance between your sensory tolerance and how much time you need to mentally transition into a new environment.

I know people who prefer only coming into a show right before or after the support act to minimize overwhelming environments and not having to deal with the crowds and lines. But for me, being early helps a lot. It gives me time to adjust to the space, settle in, and switch my brain into ‘concert mode’. Entering too late means my brain has a hard time flipping that switch. Others may be quicker in this — the key is knowing what balance works for you!

Find your spot in the crowd

Another insight I wish I had gotten way earlier is that while being in a crowd will always be overwhelming, there are less intense spots. The sides of a crowd are almost always less dense than the middle of it. Especially if a venue has its doors on one side of the hall, the opposite side will have fewer people, and less movement from people coming in later, too. Many venues have spots like balconies or steps on the side, where people tend to be less close to you, sometimes having space for only one person on a step. Also, be cautious of where you position yourself concerning doors and bars, as being close to these will mean there is more movement around you, which may be a lot. 

If I’m going to a venue I haven’t been to before, I usually try and find someone on social media who knows the place so I can ask all my questions beforehand. You can also email a venue. Most are happy to help answer accessibility-related questions. On occasions when a venue closes the balcony because a show isn’t sold out, it can be worth a try explaining your situation to the staff in the venue, and they may let you on the balcony anyway.  

Another option is to be at the front, despite this seeming contradictory, because you are right in the middle of it. However, having no people in front of me and a barricade to hold onto ends up making things feel way less overwhelming for me. If that is something that works for you, many venues offer disability accommodation, early access to a venue, which helps to beat the crowds going in too. Don’t be afraid to use accommodations when you need them — they are there to help you.

Talk to your friends before the show

Advocating for what you need is not always easy, especially in the moment. That’s why talking to the person you’re going with beforehand can make a big difference. Now that my friends know I find being in the middle of a crowd hard, it’s much easier for us to pick a spot that feels comfortable. I don’t have to stay quiet and anxious once we’re already in the middle anymore. 

This goes for anything that helps you. Explain it beforehand when you have the space and clarity. It’s so much easier than trying to do it inside a noisy, packed venue.

Processing afterwards is part of the experience too

This is the one insight where a switch in thoughts has helped me feel much better about concerts. Truth is, no matter how you accommodate yourself, concerts are simply an overwhelming experience. Information processing can be different or slower for autistic people, and being overstimulated can lead to delayed processing.

For me, this has often led to feeling like I “wasted” a concert experience, because I am never able to be fully present in the moment or process things as they happen. The insight that processing afterwards is just as much a part of the concert experience as the actual show has completely changed this for me. The time after the show — be it hours, days, or even weeks later — when I’m still reflecting, replaying moments, or discovering new feelings, is just as much a part of the concert experience as the show itself. This is something to accept, but also something to savour: you get to extend the experience much more than someone who may be more present in the moment and then is done after the show!

I love writing about a show in my journal and thinking about what I felt all over again. This leads me to situations like grinning like a madman in a long cross-UK bus a day after a concert because I got the time to process things and realize that I am happy! To feel this feeling all over again and process all the details later is something I can now cherish very much. Writing can really help with this, but so can simply talking or thinking about the show, or watching your videos again. 

It’s not just you — crowds have changed

This is the insight I want to end on as some sort of reassurance: A lot of autistic people I’ve spoken to recently feel like concerts have gotten harder — and we’ve all had the same thought: “I used to be able to handle this better.” 

While the development of crowd behaviours is a separate essay in itself, which I will refrain from now, I feel like I can say that, depending on the show type, crowds have changed, too. There’s been a growing lack of spatial awareness or consideration from others at some shows. This can make everything a lot more overwhelming.

The solution to this I do not know, but don’t beat yourself up about it if you’re having a harder time with crowds now than you did a few years ago. You’re not alone.

A final thought

Being autistic can make concerts challenging, but it can also mean we get to experience them and these emotions on a whole other level that can be incredibly special. 

You deserve to feel as safe and supported as possible while doing something you love. Accommodate yourself in whatever ways you need, and I hope some of these insights can help.

Written by: Marieke Weeda

Edited by: Ilse Muis