The Frontlines of Discovery: Why the Opening Act Deserves Your Full Attention
I’ve lost count how many times I’ve seen an opener and thought, “They could’ve headlined this show.”
Most recently? I went to see Sleep Theory at Summit Denver. Solid band. Great live energy. Tight set. Amazing performance in every way. But then their opener, Oxymorrons, hit the stage like they’d just been shot out of a cannon. I don’t even think the crowd was ready.
Oxymorrons, Summit Dener | Photo by Andrew Ortega
It was one of the most high-octane, chaotic, and fun opening sets I’ve seen in some time. The type of performance that makes you feel like you’re in on a secret.
And yet, most of the crowd was still getting drinks or glued to their phones, waiting for the “real show” to start.
Openers usually get the short end of the stick. They often play to half-empty rooms while people casually walk in, stake out rail spots, then turn around with their backs to the stage to talk, scroll, or flex for IG stories. It’s like waiting in line at a rollercoaster and ignoring the fireworks because you’re saving your screams for the drop.
And listen, I get it. You came for the headliner. But if you’re at a show and the music has started, you’re already at the show. The least you can do is act like it. I will admit, Colorado seems to do a pretty solid job of showing up for the openers but this isn’t always the case. And I’m well aware that some of these shows have crazy early door times and we all have jobs, but this isn’t what I’m talking about.
If you’ve ever posted, “I saw [insert mega-famous artist] before they blew up,” then congrats, you probably paid attention to an opener.
Ari Abdul, Fillmore | Photo by Andrew Ortega
Opening acts are where discovery happens.
They’re often personally chosen by the headliner or management, and they’re grinding for every single pair of eyes in that room. These aren’t just filler bands to pass the time. No, they’re auditions for the world.
The openers are often times hungrier. Louder. Riskier. Less polished but in the best ways possible. There’s something raw and real about watching a band or artist give it everything they’ve got, knowing half the room doesn’t care yet.
That’s punk rock. That’s hip-hop. That’s metal. That’s the spirit of every movement in music. Start small, go hard, make headlines.
This idea and push to support smaller acts doesn’t stop at concert attendees. A quick word to my fellow industry peeps: photographers, bloggers and tastemakers, we know better.
If you’re in the pit or covering a show and you’re ghosting the openers, you’re missing out on meaningful connections and possible historic moments. These are the sets that artists remember and feed off of. This is the grind they will mention when being interviewed for your favorite magazine. These sets could even be the ones you might wish you had in your archive later in life when they’re headlining Red Rocks years later.
Some of my favorite sets came from openers. Artists like Rivals, Convictions, Boundaries, Currents, Thrown, and Zinadelphia, just to name a few. They all had a killer set. They all were opening for someone “bigger”. Yet most of these artists could and are touring their own headlining shows now. They’re doing what those before them did to help them. Putting new or underrated artists on their bill in hopes to bring these artists to more fans.
Rivals, Bluebird Theater | Photo by Andrew Ortega
Here’s how to support the artists playing first without spending a fortune:
Show up early (when you can). The best moments aren’t always saved for last.
Pay attention. Even if it’s not your genre or you’ve never heard of them, you can still respect the hustle.
Tag them. If you take photos or videos, give them the credit they deserve.
Buy merch. Seriously. That $40 tee might feed the band. Merch often supports them more than your ticket does.
Say hi. Openers are usually at their own merch table after the set. You might end up meeting your next favorite artist, and you’ll definitely beat the rush of everyone pretending they liked them later.
Some of the best sets I’ve seen didn’t have lasers, pyro, or an encore. They had a hungry band, a brave stage presence, and a room of people who weren’t too cool to pay attention.
So next time you’re at a show, do yourself a favor: watch the opener. They’re not background noise. They’re not the warm-up act. They’re the start of something.
And if you blink, or scroll, you might just miss it.
