EDITORIAL Buffett experience underscores hassles of concert experience
For at least the last decade or so, people who make their living off the concert industry have been fretting about the health of their business, even though tickets have never been more costly and revenue from sales in North America hit $8 billion last year.
The reason? The wrinkles and crow’s feet on the most reliable draws. Bruce Springsteen will be 70 next year. Paul McCartney just turned 76. The combined ages of the four remaining members of the Rolling Stones comes to 297. Elton John is on an extended farewell tour, and Paul Simon announced he is leaving the road this year. Even artists a generation removed from these 1960s and 1970s stalwarts, like U2, have members fast approaching 60.
One agent told Rolling Stone earlier this year, “It’s extremely worrisome. Once these artists really do retire, who will be the replacements?”
But many concertgoers might be tempted to bid adieu to the whole scene even before “Born to Run” or “Let It Be” ring out for the last time because of what happened at KeyBank Pavilion outside Burgettstown July 7. Thanks to bottlenecks at security gates, apparently caused by freshly installed and over-sensitive metal detectors, hundreds of fans were prevented from entering a Jimmy Buffett concert until well after it started.
Some reported standing in line for 90 minutes or more. Others said they were able to get in only by the time Buffett was down to his last three or four songs. Some apparently gave up and just went home.
Stephanie Henderson, a Washington resident who was there, was succinct in her description: “a disaster.”
In fairness, Live Nation, the operator of the venue and many others across the country, offered apologies in the immediate aftermath and, by last Tuesday, was offering “concert cash” for Buffett fans who were left standing at the gates when Buffett was serenading his primarily middle-aged audience with songs about wasting away in Margaritaville and otherwise slacking off. There were also no reports of excessive waits in line at the show pairing 1990s bands the Pixies and Weezer Tuesday night.
But the whole fiasco crystallized many of the things customers find so off-putting about the concert industry today. Of course, ticket prices that have far outpaced inflation can be nettlesome, as can onerous parking fees, concession-stand meals as pricey as those at a five-star restaurant, and scrambling to get your hands on tickets in the first place before they reach the secondary market and become even more expensive.
What is perhaps most disheartening, though, is the feeling that the concert industry today is run not by people who love music, but by people selling a commodity. A product. They might be just as happy selling shoes or life insurance policies, except in the concert business they have the advantage of being a virtual monopoly enterprise, at least when it comes to the biggest shows.
You can shop around for shoes or insurance. You can’t shop around for Springsteen tickets. If you want to see the Boss the next time he comes to the local arena, you’d better be prepared to fork over the cash, put up with the hassles and accept customer service that frequently ranges from indifferent to hostile. After all, how else are you going to see Springsteen?
The powers that be in the industry would counter that no one is forcing anyone to buy tickets, that you can just stay home if you want and skip the whole thing.
After what happened at the Buffett concert, more people might be inclined to do just that.