In a disturbing trend shaking the live music world, concertgoers are increasingly resorting to defecating on the floor to secure their spots in the crowd, a phenomenon driven not by illness but by an obsessive competition for the perfect view. This was starkly illustrated at a Devilskin gig in New Zealand this week, where a fan defecated in the middle of the pit, causing chaos and a chain reaction of vomiting as human waste was spread on shoes and legs.
The Devilskin Incident: A Case Study
Witnesses described the scene in graphic detail. One told Kiwi outlet Stuff that the man "proceeded to shake a log down his leg" before attempting to kick it away. Another recalled seeing a woman "with vomit in her hair, s**t on her legs, and just crying, crying, crying." While organisers later referred to it as an "unfortunate medical incident," the frequency of such occurrences suggests a deliberate pattern.
Just last month, Olivia Rodrigo admitted she can sometimes smell fans wearing nappies at the front of her shows because they refuse to leave the barrier. "People wear diapers so that they can be front row," she said on KISS Radio. "That's been an experience as a performer that I've smelled." She added, with a shell-shocked look, "I think about it kind of often."
Beyond Illness: The Rise of "Pit Diapers"
Singer Noah Kahan has also pleaded with fans after human waste was reportedly left at one of his concerts. "If you have to poop at a show please dear god just go to the bathroom lmao," he wrote on X. "I've pooped my pants as much as the next 29-year-old but you guys gotta understand there's a venue worker out there with a 1000 yard stare after dealing with that."
Reports have circulated of concertgoers urinating on fellow fans, human waste found at 5 Seconds of Summer gigs, and enough discussion around so-called "pit diapers" that they have become a recognisable part of modern concert vocabulary. This behaviour has become, if not normalised, at least widely employed.
The Root Cause: Obsessive Competition Over Fandom
What's fascinating is not just the extreme lengths people go to, but their willingness to sacrifice their own experience and the comfort of others. For years, we've treated these stories as examples of obsessive fandom, but they're actually examples of obsessive competition. Modern concerts have become detached from the music itself; fans compare who got barricade, whose videos blew up on TikTok, who made eye contact with the artist, who got the surprise song, who left with the best story to post online. The concert has become something to win, and enjoying yourself has become secondary.
This mentality doesn't stop at nappies. It fuels elaborate queue hierarchies, policing of places in line, screaming at strangers for moving an inch, or telling Rihanna to sit down at a Mariah Carey concert for blocking someone's view. Everyone else becomes an obstacle rather than an essential part of the experience.
The Social Contract of Concerts: A Lost Collective Spirit
This shift is especially depressing because concerts have always relied on collectivism. They're one of the few places where thousands of strangers agree to put up with inconvenience for something bigger than themselves. You shuffle aside for someone returning from the toilet, accept the half-hour Tube queue, tolerate elbows, queues, tall people, and spilled pints. That's the unspoken social contract: everyone compromises a little so everyone has a brilliant night. The crowd isn't an inconvenience; the crowd is the point. If all you wanted was a perfect view and flawless sound, you'd stay home and watch the concert film.
Twenty years ago, wearing an adult nappy to keep a place would have been mortifying, not just for embarrassment but for being fundamentally inconsiderate. Doing a poo in the middle of a mosh pit would have been unthinkable. Now the calculation is simpler: if it gets me closer to the stage, everyone else can deal with the consequences.
Content Over Experience: The New Concert Mentality
Perhaps this is inevitable when concerts become less about participating and more about collecting evidence. We're no longer preserving memories; we're producing content. The night itself has become secondary to the footage proving we were there. That's why people refuse to leave for the toilet, scream at strangers for dancing, and see hundreds of fellow fans as obstacles to the perfect TikTok.
Ironically, in trying so desperately to have the best concert experience imaginable, some people have forgotten the one thing that made concerts worth going to in the first place: everyone else.
