Belonging in the Crowd – What Live Music in Paris Reveals About Class and Culture

Paris is a city of many faces — and many frequencies. From the refined hush of La Philharmonie to the sweaty roar of a rock basement in Belleville, music scenes here are cultural microcosms. They tell you a lot about who feels comfortable where, who belongs, and who watches from the sidelines.

As someone who finds beauty in both Bach and the moshpit, I often find myself reflecting on what our musical spaces say about us — and how class runs silently through it all.

The Affluent Silence of Classical Music

La Philharmonie de Paris is one of my favourite venues in the city. The acoustics are incredible. The music is transcendent. And the crowd? Older, refined, visibly affluent. That's not a judgement — just something I notice during intermission, when the clink of wine glasses and the murmur of privilege float through the foyer.

But once the music begins, the art takes over. Recently, I saw Wagner performed there — my first time seeing his music live. Conducted by the incredible Nathalie Stultzman, the performance shook me to my core.

Well — almost. It was a condensed version of the Ring Cycle, which normally runs over 12 hours. In this 90-minute version, I found the power of the piece diluted, even chaotic. Wagner isn't meant to be rushed. Choose a section and let it unfold at its own pace. Like any great story, it reveals its truth slowly.

Wagner is a complex figure — often unfairly maligned because of how the Nazis later co-opted his music. But I saw something healing that night in Paris. The applause, the warmth — it felt like a reappraisal. A reclaiming by an audience of Parisians who have a historically complicated relationship with German authoritarianism.

(🔗 If you're curious about the deeper context of Wagner's work, Bryan Magee's Wagner and Philosophy is a brilliant analysis that deconstructs the misunderstandings that underpin the way Wagner has been mis-remembered by history.)

Loud, Proud, and Working Class

On the other end of the spectrum, I also go to a lot of rock gigs in Paris. These are a different crowd entirely — beer in hand, leather jackets, unapologetic rowdiness. It's a scene that is grounded, immediate and deeply working class.

This isn't the France you usually see exported in cinema — the chic, refined, bourgeois France that shows like Emily in Paris want you to believe this country is about. This is moshpits, DIY merch, and voices that don't care about being polished.

Some of my favourite gigs in the rock venues of Paris have been British acts: Delilah Bon, Waxhead, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs. These musicians perform like they have nothing to prove and everything to say. It's messy, raw, and beautiful. Their pride in their own identity, including class, is electric and French audiences connect with the artists on this level. You see class solidarity bridging national divides.

What These Spaces Teach Us About Class

As an Australian living abroad, I notice how class expresses itself differently in different cultures. In both classical and rock spaces, I'm reminded that belonging isn't just about taste — it's about who's allowed to take up space, who feels invited, and who feels seen.

Reflection Activity

Take a moment to reflect on your own cultural comfort zones:

1. Where do you feel most "yourself" in public spaces?
2. Are there cultural spaces (concerts, galleries, lectures) where you feel out of place? Why
3. How does class show up in these experiences—for you and for others?

Cultural Recommendations

Renaud – "Hexagone" (1975)

A raw and poetic critique of French society from the perspective of the working class, this chanson became iconic for its biting honesty. Renaud, a beloved voice of the "petit peuple," doesn't sugar-coat his view of France — and that's precisely why his music resonates so deeply.

"Ils s'endorment le soir, en rêvant d'leurs vacances / Moi j'rêve de crever, en écoutant Renaud" – said many disillusioned youth in the 80s and 90s.

Reflection Question:

• If you were to write a protest song about the society you grew up in, what would it say? What would it sound like?

La Vie Est à Nous! (2005, directed by Gérard Krawczyk)

A lesser-known gem that follows young people navigating precarious jobs, racism, and identity in suburban France. It offers a nuanced, often underrepresented view of working-class life beyond the clichés — without falling into hopelessness.

La vie est à nous, meaning "life belongs to us," is an echo of dignity in a system that often forgets them.

Reflection Question:

• What aspects of your daily life or upbringing were never reflected in mainstream culture or media? How did that affect your sense of belonging?

Closing Thoughts

Music is more than entertainment — it's a mirror. It reflects not just our preferences, but our social stories, our inherited messages about where we belong. In Paris, these stories are everywhere. And I'm still learning to listen.