There’s a study that shows about 50 per cent of all teens who play an instrument drop music lessons by the time they turn 17 years old. While gen Z Americans are exposed to playing a wider range of instruments than previous generations, it’s often a pursuit that ends with graduation. I myself played violin all through middle and high school, only to put the bow down and never pick it up again. By 18, it felt like there was no time for my once beloved hobby in my new life – one where I was dating, navigating college and working long hours to pay rent. This is the quiet curse of growing up: once adulthood takes hold, the days of sinking into long, uninterrupted stretches of creativity feel like they’re gone for good. That is, unless you decide to continue playing an instrument into your early 20s or take up a new one – and gen Z are increasingly doing both. 

On TikTok, you’ll find young people posting about buying an omnichord as their new “adult hobby”, using their “free will” to learn the violin, discovering instrument rental services for the first time or maintaining no contact with an ex by picking up a trumpet. At a time when many of us are struggling to put down our phones, there’s a desire to pick up something more tangible instead. This is partly down to niche hobbies making a comeback, especially on social media, where you’ll find young people learning taxidermy, playing the harp or studying mythology. But the specific type of instruments that young people are drawn to also signals another layer to the shift. In an age defined by endless scrolling, instruments like the harp, piano or violin have come to capture a yearning for ancient, analogue crafts.

The appeal of the harp, in particular, seems to be connected to a wider return to mysticism. As one of the oldest stringed instruments in the world, the young people (mostly women) who are picking it up today often post themselves playing it outside among the trees, their long hair flowing down their backs – it's an aesthetic that recalls The Lord of the Rings. Parker Ramsay, a harpist in New York, knows his instrument is hot right now. He first noticed the shift during COVID lockdowns, when he’d speak to instrument dealers who said, “We can't keep enough harps on the floor”. 

Ramsay puts gen Z’s renewed interest down to a few factors: harps have become relatively more affordable in recent years, and there’s an abundance of content online now teaching you how to play. Also, social media is reshaping and opening up the classical world. “I think the internet has been this great equalising force in the harp world,” he says. “Harpists in Paraguay, Venezuela, Argentina and the wonderful harp playing traditions in South America are getting exposure.” Because of this, harpists across the world are now dealing with what Ramsay describes as a “hunger” for long pieces, while existing on platforms that fuel low attention spans. 

For those outside of the classical world, there’s an almost transhistorical pull towards the harp – it’s become associated with the divine feminine, a spiritual concept that’s gained traction in recent years as part of gen Z’s interest in alternative spirituality. “People are starved for real experiences, things that they can’t get online, and the harp [offers] tactile immediacy,” he says. “There’s no bow, there’s no key, there’s no mouthpiece. It’s your skin against, usually, the guts of the dead animal – it’s death revived meeting the fingers.” 

“People are starved for real experiences, things that they can’t get online, and the harp is tactile immediacy... It’s your skin against, usually, the guts of the dead animal – it’s death revived meeting the fingers” 

Fashion has long had a love affair with musicality (Jeremy Scott once sent models down the Moschino runway wearing life-sized guitar dresses). Given that the cylical nature of trends, it’s no surprise, then, that instruments have broken back into popular fashion and culture in recent years, for example the influx of classically trained harpists at fashion parties. This has also bled into fashion designs themselves: Vaquera’s violin bag comes to mind or Hodavoka, at the brands AW25 show, sending a model down the runway dressed as a cello. Meanwhile, in the music world, some of the most influential electronic and experimental artists of our time – such as Caroline Polachek and Oklou – draw heavily on their classical backgrounds and training.

In many ways, young people’s current interest in traditional instruments is aesthetic, part of the current social cachet you can gain online by associating yourself with high-brow culture or ancient crafts like pottery and blacksmithing. In today’s digital age, there’s a growing anxiety around our shrinking attention span, which is backed up by research – notably, a 2023 study indicated that as our attention spans diminish, our perceived stress levels and heart rates rise. Playing an instrument can offer a kind of pure absorption that’s difficult to find elsewhere, with all the health benefits that carries. But there’s also a draw in being able to share the beautiful mahogany and strings online. In the same way that posting classical literature or a Letterboxd review of a three-hour-long film has become a status symbol, playing an instrument signals to the world that your attention span is longer than most.

This revived interest in traditional instruments has led to the emergence of several breakout stars. Precious Renee Tucker, the Solange-approved pianist, is one of them. Her experimental piano playing has gone viral across social media; she’s played at Saint Heron events and packed New York’s Telfar store to the brim. But, as with all trends that predominantly exist online, it’s worth asking how much of the harp tutorials and violin-as-a-hobby TikTok videos are actually leading gen Z to go out and listen to these instruments live. We know young people’s interest in ballet led to more people in their 20s and 30s attending NYC Ballet performances, but is that the case here? Ramsay says mostly no in the traditional classical music world, but spaces like PS21, a centre for contemporary performance in the Hudson Valley, New York, are attracting a truly intergenerational crowd.

Matthew Gold, music programs director at PS21, which is in the midst of its extensive and varied summer programme, says he’s witnessing the post-pandemic musical renaissance in real life. After years of both listening to and recording music alone in their bedrooms, young people are showing a renewed interest in physical instruments and attending live shows. “There’s a real excitement about doing a hands-on thing and feeling like they’re making up for lost time,” he says. “There’s a willingness to be more disciplined, and to have a lot of patience, which is very much the opposite of what we have with most of our outlets – there’s a return to craft, to making things, and the different sort of gratification that goes with that.” 

You’ll find this pull towards the physical, says Gold, not just in the videos online of 20-somethings picking up a violin for the first time, but in the music young people are listening to, like the live instrumentals on Olivia Rodrigo’s latest album, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love. “That seemed to capture something about where people’s ears are right now,” he says. It’s why I’ve found myself lately scrolling through the violin section of eBay, wondering if picking it up once more would feel like riding a bike again. I see these screechy videos of 20-somethings picking up a bow for the first time, and I want to join them.