Behind the Music: Why Therapists Need Better Training to Support Touring Artists
When I was invited by Backline Care to give a talk on mental health in the music industry, I assumed I’d be speaking to a room full of touring professionals, managers, and industry leaders. Instead, I found myself presenting to a room full of therapists! I suppose I could’ve asked questions about who would be in the room instead of making assumptions, but Mercury was in retrograde and I just went with my thoughts instead. Big miscalculation.
Mind you, the mostly therapists in the room (there was also a podcaster and funders) were well-intentioned, curious, and committed to learning, but it quickly became clear during my presentation how wide the knowledge gap was. When I tell you there were crickets, I mean checks-mic-to-see-if-it’s-on level silence. And I get it, somewhat. The experiences I shared about life on the road inside the “tour bubble’s” blurred boundaries, constant proximity, and the identity divide between home and tour life were completely new to them or they’d heard some of it from a different perspective. Some of the therapists’ questions revealed assumptions rooted not in research or clinical training, but in personal anecdotes: a past relationship with a musician, a friend who did theater once, or a story they’d heard about “groupie culture.”
That moment crystallized something I already knew: if we want to provide ethical, effective support to artists, therapists need more than good intentions. We need training. And why wouldn’t that be the case? We get training for every other population we serve or specialty we have. What makes the mental health profession think that musicians can be lumped into other groups? Sure, we overlap in several areas, but there are specific experiences that need insider knowledge or at least specific awareness.
As clinicians, we all serve people with identities we don’t share. I don’t identify as male, trans, white, Latino, menopausal (yet), or retired. And just because each identity might experience anxiety or depression as does every living person on the planet, I’m not equipped to provide treatment simply because of generalities. When I choose to work with clients from any community, even communities to which I belong or identities that I share, I take trainings, read current research, and seek consultation so I can meet them with cultural humility and clinical competence. “I know someone like you” or “I am like you” is not a substitute for professional preparation.
That tour life.
For touring artists, the stakes are especially high. Life on the road accelerates intimacy, distorts normal routines, and amplifies mental health vulnerabilities. Rates of untreated depression, anxiety, trauma, substance use, and suicidality in this population are staggering. And yet, because empirical data is limited, many providers default to stereotypes or personal biases instead of evidence-informed care.
This isn’t just an issue of professional development! It’s an issue of ethics. When we minimize or misinterpret the lived realities of artists, we risk causing harm to an already vulnerable population.
That’s why I believe organizations that serve musicians need structured onboarding training for new providers. Not a one-time workshop, but a foundation that helps therapists understand the cultural context of touring life, recognize the risks unique to this population, and approach care with humility rather than assumption. Behind the music, there are people navigating extraordinary pressures. If we want to help them thrive, we must do better than piecing together care from personal anecdotes. We owe them informed, intentional, and culturally competent support. And I also believe that in order to continue doing this work, we need ongoing mandatory training in specific areas just like we do with other populations.
Here’s the call to action:
Researchers: Stop treating artists as an afterthought. This population is invisible in too much of our data and invisibility leads to harm. We need rigorous, ethically conducted studies that capture the realities of touring life and examine interventions that actually work. Until then, we’re flying blind and leaving artists at risk.
Therapists: Good intentions aren’t enough. If you don’t understand the culture of touring, you don’t get to improvise care based on stereotypes or personal anecdotes. Do the work. Get trained. Consult. Seek supervision. Approach with humility, not assumption. If you wouldn’t wing it with a veteran, a trauma survivor, or a trans client, why would you wing it with an artist?
Organizations: Make training non-negotiable. If you’re hiring or referring providers to work with artists, onboarding should include cultural context, clinical considerations, and accountability measures. Stop assuming that proximity — “I dated a musician once” — qualifies someone to provide care. It doesn’t.
Artists give us their creativity, their vulnerability, their brilliance. The least we can do is show up with the competence and respect they deserve. Anything less is negligence.
