The 10 Types of People You Meet at Music Industry Events

Thanks to social media, the Music Industry Event is no longer the elusive, mythical gathering that it once was. Release parties, product launches, and listening sessions are documented now more than ever—in real-time, no less. But what's not put on display are the personalities who populate these parties.

If you work in the record business, or any field in close proximity to it, you know who we're talking about: the thirsty blogger, the jaded old guy, the groupie, and any other number of music industry event archetypes. However, this cast of characters is less familiar to the average person whose only exposure to these nightly affairs is the reviews and recaps they read the next morning.

Not anymore. Without further ado, Complex presents The 10 Types of People You Meet at Music Industry Events. You should've never invited us anywhere.

Written by Ernest Baker (@newbornrodeo)

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Your encounter with this person will be brief, but you will definitely run across them. They're outside of the venue, wearing a blazer, and pacing, on an imaginary phone call with a publicist who doesn't know that they exist. In between these fruitless calls, they will appear to be texting, but since they don't actually have a contact at the event, that's not what's happening. Instead, they're on Twitter and Instagram obsessively checking for updates on the event and will likely contribute with something along the lines of: "The door at this party is a ZOO!"

There will be tension between this person and the bouncer after several failed attempts at entry, and at some point, the publicist working the door will begin to completely ignore them. They will you ask you and everyone else who's actually on the list if they can get in as a +1, and if that doesn't work, you can catch them eating a lonely meal at the nearest diner—still checking Twitter and Instagram.

Jay-Z, and every other celebrity. Worse yet, this person will @ these celebrities, too. Really, the entire night is an exercise in social media abuse for this individual. Live tweets of every single event detail, from the hors d'oeuvres to the decor, will be shared with their clueless Midwestern followers. Event-related hashtags will be used in excess, and Instagram will become this person's personal photo album for the evening.

If this person manages to get a photo with a celebrity, they will spend the rest of the night orgasming over the thought of how many Likes it will get when they make it their Facebook profile picture. This person will also @ you 30 seconds after your 30 second conversation, followed by another mention after the party when they shout out everyone they saw at the event.

A retweet from Elliott Wilson by morning is this person's ultimate goal, and there's nothing you can do to stop them.

This person doesn't even know what the event is for; they were forwarded an email in which an open bar was advertised, and they jumped at the opportunity. They won't tip the bartender, but they will ask him for an extra drink for their "friend," then quickly chug it to avoid the embarrassment of being caught double-fisting.

This desperate individual will also post a photo of their poorly-made cocktail to one of their social media accounts and hashtag the alcohol brand. Count on this person to sniff out marijuana smoke with the enthusiasm of a 15-year-old and act like they just freebased OxyContin after one hit.

The next morning, they will tweet about how "crazy" the night was, and post a picture of themself doing an overly-calculated pose in the back of a cab with their struggle friends.

Some industry girls are definitely celeb-thirsty, but they're not really fucking any of them. Usually. The real groupie is the chick at the party who you, nor anyone else, even knows. She's not on the list, but of course she'll get in because her dress is very short and she's fine as fuck in that ratchet, Nicki Minaj circa 2008 way.

The same magic that was used on the person working the door gets this girl past the bouncers guarding VIP as well. They know she's supposed to be in there, and once admitted, she behaves like a pro within the proximity of famous musicians. She'll sit at Rick Ross' table with the comfortable "I'm going to suck your dick later" rapport these women often share with their targets, but she won't interfere with his activities.

Her night consists of an occasional joke with the artist she's pursuing, shutting down broke but confident journalists who attempt to court her, and texting with the 37 other male suitors on her roster who are unfortunately not aware of the fact that she will later fellate the Bawse.

Unless you have a mutual friend, you and this person will never speak, but you will share several awkward glances. There's a certain silent agreement that, yes, you recognize each other from your 100x100 avatars, but why speak in real life when you can just tweet at each other about the new Kendrick Lamar album the next day?

The next time you communicate on social media, there will be zero acknowledgement that you kinda, sorta met, but there is the shared comfort that this Internet "friend" is, in fact, a real person and not an overweight 42-year-old who masturbates to Selena Gomez pictures with Cheeto-stained fingers. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

In the event that you and this person do speak, be prepared to dickride each other about awesome things that either of you wrote.

The glory days of the record business are long over, and this person will be sure to let you know that. Multiple times. All night long. Beyoncé could be pussy popping on a handstand six meters in front of them and they'll still find a way to tell you how the game was so much better a decade ago.

Apparently, back then, everyone was paid better, cocaine was far more present, and the Perry Ellis tracksuit they're wearing was an acceptable form of attire. During their heyday, the music was hotter and none of your current cavorts will ever compare.

This person is mostly bitter because they haven't had sex in 11 months, but they'll never admit that.

This individual shines during 2 Chainz's verse on "Mercy," Drake's chorus on "HYFR," and whatever Vol. 3-era Jay-Z songs the DJ decides to go with that night. You can't be mad at a person for enjoying music at a music event, but you can wonder if these parties are their only remaining outlet after a failed career as a rapper.

This person is more prevalent now than ever thanks to a multitude of easy-to-execute dances that have become popular in recent years. First, it was Lil B's "cooking dance" which evolved into the "spastic pull-ups" dance that currently dominates.

This person, usually a male, also prevails because no women are required. You'll find him in a huddle screaming lyrics with a group of dudes, feeling freer than he ever did high school. Let this guy tell it: Life can't possibly get any more "turnt up."

The first thing you think when you see this person is: "Shouldn't you be at home working?" They claim to freelance, but no one has seen their byline in four years.

The only thing this person has going for them is their social media presence, which is largely propped up by their former reputation in the industry. As a result, they know everyone, but it's clear that they've seen better days. In a rare moment of compassion, you genuinely worry about this person and how they sustain income.

You're trying to hear B.I.G. and some cuts from Nore, and they keep talking over the beat like Clue. This person can be a rapper, publicist, or struggling writer. Regardless of occupation, they're trying to sell you on something and they will be relentless about it. They'll whip out their phone and follow you on Twitter on the spot, and you'll pretend that you intend on following back sometime before the year ends.

Their enthusiasm is appreciated, but it'd be better suited for a more business appropriate setting. You're six whiskey gingers deep and really just waiting for the DJ to play "Love Sosa." If only they knew that relaxing and behaving like a normal person could actually lead to a real, beneficial relationship, then maybe they'd chill. Until they learn, just take the business card you didn't ask for and keep it moving.

While engaging in pillow talk after sex with a publicist and/or Twitter groupie, you became privy to information that this person actually isn't best friends with Kanye West, but just sells insurance somewhere in New Jersey. They're nice, so it's not a big deal—plus, who gives a fuck how someone else is earning—but their perceived cool guy anonymity will begin to annoy you.

It's like when Gretchen Weiners screamed "You can't sit with us!" at Regina George. Every time this person begins to talk for too long about some amazing behind-the-scenes experience that they had, the dickheaded part of you wants to reveal to the room that this person is a borderline wannabe.

But you won't do that. Not right now at least. That's something you save should you ever encounter Twitter beef with this person because they talked shit about your publication. Until that happens, plan on seeing them at every single industry event in the foreseeable future.