This is old, but it still makes me giggle.
If you are in a band, you are going to be lusted after by fans in the audience. Being a “sex symbol” is on page one of the job description – and fitting any narrow definition of conventional beauty is immaterial: even Thom Yorke is sexy when he’s dancing like a loon.
I do recall a friend, when I was in my early teens, vowing to “never wash again” when she was splashed with the sweat of the lead singer of the band we were watching. The same girl accidentally sent Richie flying when she burst into the Manic Street Preachers’ dressing room, gasping that she “really respects their music”, while really meaning that she wanted to do things to him that monkeys wouldn’t do to each other. Bless her! She was just 14. That lust, even underaged and unrequited, is part of the job – as was the obligation to scribble an autograph and politely send her away.
Even so, there are boundaries to the expression of said adoration. I don’t think anyone would advocate groping band-members of any age or gender, because really it’s just not on. What’s a guy to do, go on stage with a Do Not Touch notice pinned on to his hairy chest? Sometimes you can get away with stuff at a gig that you couldn’t outside the venue, but sheesh. Nick’s hilarious, spot-on reaction earns my eternal respect.