Major tours have been cancelled this summer. Music critics are up in arms. Where have all the concert goers gone?
After attending the Dave Matthews Band show at the HiFiBuys Amphitheater in Atlanta Tuesday night, I think I have some answers.
Reserved seats sold out immediately online, although hundreds were available at ridiculously inflated prices from ticket brokers right up until the day of the show.
So we paid $43.50 each for "Lawn Seats" -- except the web site made it clear you could not bring seats, you would sit on the lawn. The tickets said "All weather show" but the website said no umbrellas. I'd been to outdoor shows with both chairs and umbrellas, but I could see the safety rationale. Thunderstorms were forecast, so we packed our blankets, rain ponchoes and binoculars and headed up to Atlanta.
"Parking" was a haphazard field with acres upon acres of cars and no signage directing to the gate and no view of an amphitheater anywhere around. We followed the crowd.
Piles of blankets and ponchoes were already stacked up abadoned at the entrance. "Dave Matthews Band Security says no blankets, no towels, no jackets or raingear are allowed," we were told. "Couldn't you have put this on the web site?" I asked. "It's their rule," the guy repeated as he patted down our party. Apparently he thought that was an answer.
The only apparent danger blankets present is preventing them from stacking people like cordwood in the lawn area, but we were forced to surrender.
Always clever and efficient, Anne had a North Face raincoat that folded into one of its own zippered mesh pockets creating a bundle in her purse not much bigger than my fist. No, the guard said, no raingear. We had to lose the binoculars too.
So my husband made a trip back to the car while we foraged for dinner and drinks in the food court. A six inch plastic "carafe" of margaritas - $18. A bar-b-que sandwich with nearly invisible meat on a cheap hamburger bun $6.50. In an Atkins / South Beach world there was not an entree to be found without bread. Our "meals" were a three-way disapointment tie: price, selection and taste.
My daughter Jennine stood in line for a half an hour for the privilege of spending $27 each on two t-shirts.
We came for the billed opening act, Robert Earl Keen and thought seeing Dave Matthews for the first time would be a bonus.
Some artists use their opening acts to showcase other good bands for their fans and warm up the crowd. Others seem to see them as time wasters meant to make the headliners look better. Guess which DMB was?
Although Robert Earl Keen was likely touring when Mr. Matthews was in diapers and has sold out thousands of shows in smaller venues, he got one set of direct lights and no projection screeen. The guy way down there on the stage sounded a lot like Robert Earl, but without binoculars , and particularly as the sun set, it was impossible to tell. Only the "star" gets lights or projection screens.
Sitting was no longer an option once the headliner came out (with a full light show and projection screens) in that you would be trampled by waves of perpetual motion drunks who never seemed to find a place to stay. Standing for two hours on a hillside had even perfectly fit, yoga-trained Anne sore and stretching.
Between each song the stage went completely dark for anywhere from several seconds to a few minutes, maybe it was meant to be dramatic. What it was -- simply annoying. Just in case the music was starting to take you to a more comfortable place in your head, the process simply had to be halted.
The good news, the skies held back. The only thing the promoters couldn't control was the only thing that went right.
We started edging toward the exit, careful to step over the underage binge drinkers passed out cold, no easy feat without any lighting on the hill. I'm sure the band eventually played "Crash" but we opted to get to the car and get out before the traffic snarled into an undirected knot in the open field.
Last night we saw Lyle Lovett play to a sold-out house at the Florida Theater. We didn't need binoculars there, but could have used them if we choose. A good quality, hooded sweatshirt was only $40 at his merchandise table and there were plenty of people working there... and at the reasonably priced bar. He started on time and played continuiously for the next two hours plus. He put on a great show and the promoter and venue allowed us the opportunity to enjoy it. He'll sell out the next time he comes through town.
It may be a shock to some bands to discover it's not about them or every last cent they can wring out of the audience.
It's about the audience.
It takes a special kind of person to pay money to be punished. I'm not one of them. Unless some of these bands turn their marketing efforts directly to masochists, there are going to continue to wonder "where have all the audiences gone?"

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs