You’re at a live show, the lights are dimming, and a hush falls over the crowd between songs. You brace yourself, knowing it’s coming. It’s the punchline to a joke that never lands, the meme that refuses to fade. In that awkward silence, as the band swaps instruments or tunes up, it pierces the air like a rogue guitar pick flung into the audience.
“Freebird!”
There it is. Again. The cry for Lynyrd Skynyrd’s epic anthem has become a ubiquitous, and for many, irritating aspect of the live music experience. It’s so deeply embedded in concert culture that it’s almost expected at any performance, regardless of genre. But where did this bizarre tradition originate? Why do people persist in yelling for “Freebird Song,” even when it’s clearly inappropriate? And is there anything the discerning music lover can do to silence the shouts? We delve into the history and psychology of this phenomenon to understand its enduring, if grating, legacy.
Tracing the Roots of the “Freebird!” Yell
Like many cultural quirks, the precise origins of the “Freebird!” yell are shrouded in a bit of mystery. For many concertgoers of a certain age, it seemed like a natural, albeit exaggerated, extension of the age-old practice of requesting songs. Think of it as request culture amplified to the point of absurdity, long outliving its relevance, especially considering the tragic plane crash in 1977 that decimated Lynyrd Skynyrd.
In the late 1970s, when classic rock was king, bands often relied on crowd-pleasing covers to energize their sets. Two songs, in particular, rose to prominence as go-to covers: Led Zeppelin’s majestic “Stairway to Heaven” and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s sprawling “Freebird song.”
These choices might seem peculiar in retrospect. Both are lengthy, emotionally complex tracks that build from gentle beginnings to soaring guitar-driven crescendos. Imagine the surprise of unsuspecting slow dancers suddenly thrust into a whirlwind of 70s rock guitar pyrotechnics. Yet, these were the anthems that resonated with audiences, the songs that seemingly every guitarist felt compelled to learn and perform, with varying degrees of success.
Both “Stairway to Heaven” and “Freebird song” boast instantly recognizable chord progressions, guaranteed to elicit cheers and raise beverages in dimly lit arenas across the land. They were, and arguably still are, perfect anthems for a rowdy crowd. However, “Freebird” ultimately emerged as the undisputed champion of cover songs, the “Grande Dame” of requested tunes. But why? And more importantly, why do some concert attendees still feel compelled to yell for it at bands that are stylistically miles away from Southern rock? Does anyone genuinely expect an indie band to suddenly launch into a Steve Gaines-esque guitar solo?
One compelling theory about the “Freebird!” phenomenon points to a specific moment on Lynyrd Skynyrd’s iconic live album, One More From The Road. During a break in the performance, Ronnie Van Zant famously asks the audience what they want to hear. The overwhelming response? “Freebird!” Some believe that the contemporary tradition of yelling “Freebird!” is a peculiar, often ironic, homage to this very interaction.
Contrast this with Led Zeppelin’s approach. Zeppelin was never a band to solicit requests from the audience. They were musical titans, dictating the terms of engagement. As Tom Clark aptly put it in a discussion forum from the depths of internet history:
You see, Skynyrd was a much more egalitarian band. They encouraged the fans express themselves freely, no matter the personal disgrace. This is obvious to anyone who’s ever been to a Skynyrd show, and, to a lesser extent, an Outlaws show.
Zeppelin, on the other hand, were an entity unto themselves. There was never any “How can we please you” chatter from Mr. Plant – the Mighty Ones were just going to pummel you with the Hammer Of The Gods(tm) and you were gonna like it.
This difference in band-fan dynamics might explain why “Freebird song,” rather than “Stairway to Heaven,” became the ubiquitous concert request, both genuine and sarcastic. Skynyrd’s perceived openness to fan interaction, even if on a live album recording, arguably opened the door for this long-lasting, and often misused, tradition.
The Persistence of the Yell: Humor, Mockery, or Just Plain Annoying?
So, we may have some insight into why “Freebird song” became the go-to cover request. But why, decades later, does the tradition of yelling for it persist? And more crucially, can anything be done to stop it? It’s widely acknowledged that it’s now more of a joke, a cultural reflex, than a sincere musical request. Or is it?
Seeking answers, we turned to online music communities and even reached out to self-confessed “Freebird!” yell culprits to understand their motivations. Why continue an action that has long surpassed its entertainment value? It’s akin to perpetually sporting a mullet haircut knowing full well it’s become a symbol of outdated style and the target of countless jokes.
Jeff Sabatini, a writer for GLONO, has jokingly embraced his reputation as a committed “Freebird!” yeller. Known for his booming voice, his shouts are legendary, impossible to ignore at any show he attends. We contacted Sabatini to get to the bottom of his seemingly disruptive concert behavior.
DP: Why do you still yell “Freebird” at shows? I am genuinely curious. I might use your answer for an article.
Sab: I don’t yell it anymore. You made me stop, remember? The reasons I used to yell it were mostly about irritating or mocking the performer. And, secretly, I actually like the song and wouldn’t mind hearing more bands play it. How’s that for honesty?
DP: Have you really quit? Irritating/mocking the performer? You’ve yelled it at every one of my shows. Are you mocking me?
Sab: With your shows, it was purely for irritation. You know I’m just envious because I never achieved my rock star dreams.
DP: I understand the feeling…
Sabatini’s confession reveals a motivation rooted in playful antagonism, a desire to poke fun at the performers. But is this the sole reason behind the enduring “Freebird!” yell? Another respondent in online forums admitted to yelling it simply to be disruptive, an act of general mischief rather than targeted mockery.
Kimberly Mays, responding to an inquiry on the CMJ message board, confessed, “I have done it (only once or twice) and not just at shows (basketball games, class presentations) because it’s so unexpected and crazy. If something moves me to just be an ass, I too yell, ‘FREEBIRD!!!!’”
Mays’ inspiration wasn’t even Skynyrd’s live album but a more contemporary, and perhaps more absurd, source. “At the end of a Lunachicks CD (I think Pretty Ugly) some guy is clapping and is like, ‘shit… c’mon… Freebird!'” Mays explained, “I lost it! I thought it was the most hilarious thing.”
This anecdote raises a concerning possibility: is a new generation embracing the “Freebird!” yell, finding humor in its sheer absurdity? Are we, as a society, so devoid of fresh humor that we cling to jokes that have long overstayed their welcome? Or is the author simply out of touch, unable to appreciate the ironic humor in a joke that perhaps was never genuinely funny to begin with?
The answer, for many, leans towards the latter. It’s often perceived as annoying and disruptive, a relic of a bygone era of humor, akin to someone still relying on outdated catchphrases and pop culture references. Are we destined to endure this seemingly endless concert cliché, or can we reclaim the live music experience from the “Freebird!” hecklers?
Fighting Back Against the “Freebird!” Fury: Strategies for Silence
Fortunately, some bands and venues are taking action to combat the “Freebird!” phenomenon. Phil Ajjarapu of the Chicago band Dry County shared a rather direct, if somewhat extreme, approach his band adopted. They decided to play “Freebird song” every single time someone yelled for it, regardless of how many times it occurred during a single performance.
“I can only remember once that we played ‘Freebird’ like 3 times in one set, and it didn’t take long for the crowd to take the offending party off the premises where we presumed that he was picked up by cops or something,” Ajjarapu recounted.
However, the “Freebird Tactical Response,” as it might be termed, is a risky strategy. It could backfire, escalating the situation and potentially inviting further disruptive behavior.
“We also played ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ every time that was requested, and of the two, ‘Sweet Home’ was the more requested song,” Ajjarapu added. “Playing redneck music will introduce you to a lot of colorful people though, that’s for sure. But that’s a different crowd, the whole place will dance to Skynyrd, and when you’re in a band, isn’t that what you want?”
Perhaps audience engagement is the ultimate goal, but for many, the relentless “Freebird song” yell transcends playful interaction and becomes a genuine nuisance. Surely, most reasonable people can agree that this senseless act needs to be curtailed.
Another, perhaps more sophisticated, tactic is the preemptive strike. Indie band Clem Snide once cleverly diffused the situation by unexpectedly launching into a powerful rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” as an encore at a Chicago show. This preemptive cover served as both an acknowledgment of the anticipated “Freebird song” request and a decisive silencing blow to any would-be hecklers. All further requests, sarcastic or sincere, ceased immediately.
Drawing wisdom from an unlikely source, a 9th-grade teacher named Jim Rex once declared that a joke is only funny the first and third time you hear it, and never again. If only this principle could be universally applied to the “Freebird!” yell.
UPDATE: A thoughtful response to this article arrived from Emily, a reader from the South, who shared a different perspective on the song, highlighting its deeper personal meaning for her and her father: One More From the Road.
