What’s On The Shelf | Games, Music & Culture

The Word That Wouldn’t Die

The term stan has pierced our collective lexicon in the same way all new slang does: by getting shitposted into oblivion online until it sticks. For my old-ass people who may have missed it, a “stan” is an obsessive fan of a particular artist, while “to stan” means to support a certain artist or group. Over time, the word has taken on a lighter, even positive spin — a far cry from its obsessive, almost sinister origins.

To understand that shift, we need to rewind to two songs: Eminem’s Stan (2000) and Tyler, the Creator’s Colossus (2013). One set the template; the other reimagined it in a new era.

Stan — The Blueprint of Obsession

When Eminem released The Marshall Mathers LP in 2000, it became an instant cultural earthquake. Nestled in the chaos was Stan — a track that would outlive the album and eventually outlive Eminem himself in cultural impact.

The song unfolds as a one-sided correspondence from a fan named Stan, who pours his life story into letters begging for Slim Shady’s recognition. At first, Stan sounds relatively normal, rattling off similarities and expressing gratitude. But as the verses progress, cracks appear: paranoia, desperation, and violent undertones creep in until his final “letter” becomes a recorded suicide note. Driving drunk and high, Stan kills himself and his pregnant girlfriend in a horrific echo of his hero’s darkest lyrics.

Eminem closes the song with a belated response — empathetic but oblivious — only realizing too late that the fan he’s addressing is the same man who died in the news story. The verse ends with a gut-punch of understatement: “…damn.”

It’s a haunting piece of storytelling, blurring the line between celebrity and fan. Eminem isn’t just condemning obsession; he’s acknowledging the strange sympathy artists feel toward the people who latch onto them. Later, he revisited the character in Bad Guy (2013), but like many sequels, it lived in the shadow of the original. Stan remained untouchable.

Colossus — Face-to-Face with a Stan

Over a decade later, Tyler, the Creator released Wolf (2013), an album often seen as his creative breakthrough. Nestled in its tracklist was Colossus, a song that wears Stan’s influence on its sleeve but reimagines the encounter for the 2010s.

Where Eminem’s fan writes letters, Tyler’s fan approaches him in person — at Six Flags, of all places. What starts as a casual encounter quickly spirals into an anxiety-inducing monologue. The fan gushes about how Tyler saved his life, quotes Odd Future lyrics, and lists endless parallels between them. The breathless delivery mirrors the spiraling energy of Stan, but here the stakes feel sharper. This isn’t a voice in a letter; it’s a stranger in your personal space.

Tyler cuts in with blunt interjections: “Yo, chill,” “What the fuck?” — his discomfort bleeding through the track. The tension builds until Tyler, overwhelmed, just snaps: “Take the fucking picture.”

Musically, Colossus leans into suffocating beats and uneasy pacing. Unlike Stan, which unfolds like a short story, Tyler captures the real-time claustrophobia of being cornered by an obsessive fan. It’s less tragic narrative, more panic attack.

From Deranged to Digital — The Shift in “Stan”

So how did a word born from tales of obsession and tragedy become a cute way to say “I love Taylor Swift”?

Two things happened:

1. Language Drift: Over time, internet culture co-opted “stan” as shorthand for extreme support, stripping away the original darkness. People call themselves stans as a badge of loyalty, not danger.
   
2. Cultural Numbness: What was shocking in 2000 feels almost tame in 2025. We live in an era where parasocial relationships are everywhere — streamers, TikTokers, fandom accounts. Hyperbole and self-deprecating humor dull the original meaning.
   

But Stan and Colossus remind us of the roots: obsession isn’t cute when you’re the one being obsessed over. Eminem and Tyler both capture the dread of being idolized to the point of suffocation.

Should You Call Yourself a Stan?

At the end of the day, language evolves. If calling yourself a “stan” online brings you joy, who am I to tell you otherwise? But before slapping “Swiftie Stan” or “Barbz4Life” in your bio, it’s worth remembering: the word’s DNA is darker than the memes suggest.

Eminem’s Stan was a tragedy. Tyler’s Colossus was a panic attack. Both are cautionary tales dressed as hip-hop storytelling. So maybe, the next time you proudly “stan” something, take a second to consider what that really means.