// November 2nd, 2009 // Me, NaBloPoMo
I love going to concerts; feeling the atmosphere, meeting fellow concert-goers, buying overpriced drinks and merchandise. But I’m apathetic. I hear stories of people travelling across cities and sometimes even countries to see someone perform – I think one of my friends travelled to Liverpool to see Elvis Costello live last year – but I’ll never be that person. I’m quite laidback when it comes to seeing musicians I like. And I mean, really, really like. Artists I only slightly like don’t make the cut.* Unless I’m in the area for another reason already, then NEVER, EVER IN A BILLION YEARS will I go further than a few miles to see anyone I listen to perform.
It may be, no, probably is, someone I love listening to (if I wasn’t sure about loving them, then I wouldn’t even consider buying tickets). It may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It may even be the last chance I’ll ever get to see them alive. But unless I can get there and back within an hour or two for about £3, then it’s not worth it.
The furthest I’m willing to travel for my favourite performer is the length and breadth of London – well, as much as my Oyster card covers. Anywhere I can’t touch in/touch out in London? I’m out.
The average gig (or what usually happens to me)
7pm – You have paid £10-£50 for the privilege of coming here, being felt up, and having your ‘professional’ camera confiscated whilst everyone else is allowed to keep their point-and-shoots. You may have also parted with £1 – £3 of your money for a cloakroom charge, depending on whether you’ve had bottles of water/bags/cameras taken off you.
7:30pm – £2.50 of your money disappears as you buy a drink.
8pm - £1 vanishes as you get a tiny packet of crisps.
8:30pm – £25 goes for a T-shirt that you just had to have because everyone else in the crowd has bought one each, and you don’t want to be the only one not wearing one.
8:45pm – Another £3 drink! [Prices have gone up because everyone wants one now]
9-9:30pm – The show might begin. Otherwise you’re left chanting the singer’s name whilst they’re on the loo or getting drunk backstage.
11:30pm – The show finishes. You may have made some new friends, had the night of your life, etc., but you are exhausted, your knees and feet could kill you, you’re thirsty and could really do with a drink without being ripped off.
If you’ve travelled from far away to be there, add about 4 hours each way for travel, or fork out another £50 to stay overnight at some crummy B&B. Travelling is tiring. And you’re never gonna feel as comfortable sleeping on a train or a bus than you are in your own bed. Why should I waste several hours of my life travelling back and forth for a few hours of entertainment?
The way I see it is if musicians want my money, they should come to me (or at least somewhere I can easily get to). If the artists I like have gigs near me, I promise that every gig they do, I’ll be there. I’ll buy their overpriced drinks, their T-shirts that don’t fit properly, and won’t throw that much of a fit when they confiscate my camera again. But please don’t expect me to travel for anyone. If I won’t travel for a close friend, why would I do it for a stranger who doesn’t even know me or care?
The best example of a concert venue for me is the Shepherd’s Bush O2 Empire. It may be dirty, the food may be of dodgy quality and pictures may be banned, but there’s a bus stop right outside with a route that deposits me in front of my house. This is the lazy girl’s dream. Whenever someone has a show here, all I have to do is get on a bus half an hour before, and saunter up when it’s time to go in. Who could ask for more?
I’m lucky in a way – I live in a big city, and most of the people I want to see come here after doing a big tour. But I know some will never have the budget or the time to, and this means I’ll probably never get to see some of my favourite performers live. And I’m pretty much cool with that, if it means I can get a few hours extra sleep at home.
*My one exception to this rule is if it’s free. I’ll see anyone within the borders of London, or wherever I am, if it means I won’t have to pay for the ticket. This is why I love the iTunes Festival so much.
