For music appreciators across the globe, the conversation about "who exactly is the greatest band of our generation" is a much-argued one. For my friends and me, it's Brand New. When they announced the tour on their Facebook profile, over 3,000 people liked the status update.
There is arguably no moment sweeter than when a band announces tour dates, but it's made that much sweeter when St. Louis, Miss., just four hours and six minutes away, has a spot on that list. It has been five years since Brand New has made their way anywhere near Memphis (a date I have committed to memory.)
One coy user commented, "May the odds be ever in your favor," foreshadowing the struggle to come.
The tickets went on sale at noon. I ducked out of my class and my hands began to sweat. My stomach twisted into knots. I was a mess.
11:59 a.m. "One minute," I thought to myself. And then it happened. The moment I had been longing for through so many back-to-back listens of their albums. I was finally going to see one of my favorite bands. I was going to see Brand New.
That is, until Ticketmaster's website crashed. A minute into purchasing tickets, and it was a failed attempt. "High demand" repeated with every refresh of the page.
My entire Brand New-lovin'-friend group texted me right away.
"We made it through," one wrote. "I can't believe we're finally seeing Brand New."
Facebook was littered with the accomplishments of so many people that I knew. Twitter was flooded with all capitalized tweets of excited exclamation. But for me, and for many others, the odds were not in our favor.
Nearly 800 people commented on it, sharing similar problems about Ticketmaster's faulty website. Some people, like Ashley Riehl, simply couldn't get through to buy tickets.
"I tried getting STL tickets and they were gone in 30 seconds, " she wrote on the band's status.
Others, like Hannah Shue, refreshed their way to success.
"I finally got two tickets," she wrote. "It took me 25 minutes of refreshing."
On Ticketmaster, tickets sold for $29.99 a piece before an added service fee of $7.10. I could stomach $37.09 per ticket. I don't understand it, but I'll do it. Unfortunately, tickets sold out just as fast, so I turned to StubHub, a different beast altogether.
If I'm Mario, StubHub is Bowser. After 30 minutes of missing class and constantly refreshing the page, I turned to StubHub. Tickets ranged from $70 to a whopping $330.90 a piece. I didn't have time to sigh. I bit the proverbial bullet and came out with a single ticket for $78. Looking at the website now, the lowest price for a single ticket is $101.95.
StubHub - "Where Fans Buy and Sell Tickets," according to their website - isn't illegal but it is unethical. It's a home for greedy, grease-fingered scalpers that have no plans to see my favorite band. I imagine that they, much like me, stared like hawks at their computer screens waiting. They bought up to four tickets at a time - the maximum that Ticketmaster allows you to purchase during one transaction - and I can see their Cheetos-puff-stained fingers selling my precious ticket.
These are not fans. These are not robots. These are not people who have spent so much of their lives delving into a musician's work. What kind of fan buys tickets in bulk and ups the price? They want my money, and they want more of my money than Ticketmaster wants.
I can't blame the band. How do you blame the band? You can't blame the artist for having fans. You can't blame the fans for wanting to see the band perform.
However, you can blame the faulty system that is online ticket sales. I wish I had the answer to fixing this, but, as of now, it looks like Ticketmaster's imperfections and StubHub's evil ways are more of an institution than an option. Perhaps I'm just upset because I was the victim on this occasion, but I'd argue that my anger is justified. I'd willingly pay $100 to see Brand New, but having to snake through secondary ticket marketplaces irks me more so than anything else.
At the end of the day, I'm seeing Brand New with my friends, a moment I've long anticipated. I feel for the fallen fans that will not be joining me.
Still, we must find a solution. Generation Y is gifted with the luxury of not having to do much without the assistance of our computers and smart phones. It is integrated into our daily lives. So it's natural that we all rush to the one place where we can buy tickets. We have to suffer through the fees and prices of scalped tickets. But I envy my 52-year-old father. An avid showgoer in his youth, he has many stories of camping out at concert venues for KISS tickets.
Those days are long gone.
