In the not-so-distant past, attending a live concert was an experience marked by spontaneity, camaraderie and music itself. The days of purchasing tickets without ripping your hair out over online queues and buying day-of tickets at the box office will never be the same. And Gen Z, with our insatiable appetite for social media and unfiltered self-expression, is only adding fuel to this war.
Battle One: Securing the Ticket
Our transformative impact on concert culture is unmistakably tied to how we’ve harnessed the power of social media. Concerts don’t start when the artist steps on stage- they start when it’s announced on Instagram.
The competition to secure concert tickets is more stressful than my final exams. Most artists now hold presales where “real” fans can buy tickets before they’re released to the general public. You usually receive a code and a super-secret, secure link and you’re in! It’s that easy…said no one ever.
The demand is simply too high. It doesn’t matter if it’s an indie artist you’ve been attempting to gatekeep or an international pop star who will sell out Viejas Arena. The bots and resellers are ready to ruin your life. Nights of showing up an hour before the venue’s doors open to buy a ticket are long gone.
It’s a competition. A long, daunting and merciless fight for tickets.
Battle Two: The Perfect Outfit
Now let’s say you manage to secure tickets. Congratulations! (you are now on my “to-rob” list). It’s time to start planning the outfit. An outfit can make or break a concert, I’ve seen it happen. You have to look good for a few reasons: an Instagram post (of course) and what if this is finally the chance the musician notices you (obviously).
And… it’s expensive. Did I need a feathered magenta mini dress when I saw Harry Styles for the first time? Probably not. It connects to the whole idea of competition. You must get the best tickets, look the best and get noticed. Fans will do anything to have their “movie” moment, making longing eye contact with the artist who definitely can’t see anyone in the crowd because of the blinding spotlights.
It’s war: throwing things on stage, bringing outrageous signs, filming the entire concert to get the perfect viral moment in the perfect outfit. It’s also exhausting. At what point do we stop enjoying the show to become one ourselves?
Battle Three: The Waiting Game
This part begins when we arrive at the venue days before the artist hits the stage. Again, no concert starts when the artist is on stage. If anything, you’ll probably beat them to their own performance. Lucky you! You get to wave the artist in from their illegally tinted tour bus while you fight your fourth calf cramp of the night. Sure, the debate rages on whether camping out is worth the risks. But, there is a general consensus: if you want a spot on that barricade, pack up your lawn chair and REI tent. You’ll find yourself in line at 2 a.m. for a concert starting at 9 p.m. the next day, at least 100 people deep in line. I would like to be positive and say remember this is a marathon not a sprint, but it might be both…at the same time?
Battle Four: The Grand Finale
Finally, it’s time. Your heart is pounding and you let out a scream you didn’t know you could make. You think, this is my peak. This is the best day of my entire life.
Then you blink and it’s over. You blacked out from pure joy, now suffering from post-concert amnesia. All you remember: being dragged across sticky venue floors, a colossal credit card bill and getting line-jumped by seven teenage girls who loudly decided they hated your outfit.
And yet, you’re still smiling. You saw your favorite artist live and screech-sang those lyrics tattooed in your brain. Despite those bruises and cuts, you came out with a win. You survived the war of concert culture.
But wow, does it always need to be that hard?
