Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.Who’d have thought a band reuniting would be front-page news when the world is in such turmoil? After 15 years of bitter feuding, Oasis is reforming for a tour of huge stadium gigs.The clamour for tickets is real. My WhatsApp groups were ablaze with people declaring they were entering the ballot. Hotel prices in Wembley, Cardiff and Edinburgh promptly soared for the nights of the gigs — in what appears to be a remarkable bit of price gouging. A Maldron hotel in Manchester has been accused of cancelling pre-existing bookings for the weekend of the Oasis concert so they can resell them at a higher rate (the hotel denies this).Will I interrupt my Saturday to drain my bank account in order to secure tickets to jump on this bandwagon and see Noel and Liam live? Definitely . . . not.I missed out in 1996, when I tried and failed to get tickets to one of two Oasis gigs at Knebworth House — they sold 250,000 tickets in minutes, with a reported demand of 2.5mn. Back then, a ticket would cost you £22.50. At Wembley next year, standing tickets are £151.25. And if the recent Taylor Swift gigs are anything to go by, expect VIP packages, travel and “merch” to nudge total spends into the thousands. And that’s before you’ve had a refreshing pint of warm lager served in a plastic cup for £7.85.The acoustics are terrible — made worse by 90,000 fans who know all the words and sing along while waving their phones aloftIn recent years, the big stadium gig has become a place to be seen — in 2022, Wembley hosted as many gigs as it did football matches: last summer, big London gigs by Harry Styles and Beyoncé were the hot tickets; this year, the cultural juggernaut of Taylor Swift’s Eras tour.As “I was there” moments, they may be overtaking the Glastonbury festival in the UK (ticket price £355), and Coachella ($560) in California.But the fact of the matter is stadium gigs are generally awful.Travelling to the venue you’ll endure rammed public transport — don’t even attempt to get an Uber. The chances are your seats are so far away from the stage that the only way you’ll see the act is on a big screen — or if you have an Access All Areas pass. And when it’s all over, you’ll be herded for hours through massive queues as muppet transport companies run an evening schedule ignoring the big event on stage.But there is a more fundamental problem: stadiums are set up for sporting events. The acoustics are terrible — made worse by 90,000 fans who know all the words and sing along while waving their phones aloft, recording the whole thing.We all know this. So why do I — why does anyone — keep buying tickets to these things?I suspect it’s a kind of nostalgia; always trying to recapture the magic of gigs gone by. I’ve been to a lot. I went to the old Wembley to see Michael Jackson perform one of his few UK live events. It was the only pop concert I ever went to with my three brothers. With only three of us siblings left, that experience sadly cannot be repeated.I paid far too much to see the Spice Girls reunion gig at the O2. All I remember from that is that “Posh” barely sang, but to the annoyance of the other Spices got larger roars of approval from the audience every time she cat-walked up the stage.Even great musicians can do awful gigs. The Rolling Stones at Twickenham. Appalling. The only excitement was seeing an ancient Mick Jagger stride across the stage, wondering if I’ll be that energetic should I escape my care home at his age. Two of their recent US tours had, as their sole sponsor, the Alliance for Lifetime Income, a trade association that promotes the sale of annuities.Partly, the rise of the stadium gig is a reflection of the changing economics of the music industry. Bands used to tour so they could sell albums; now their songs are streamed for next to nothing so they can build enough interest for a big tour. Taylor Swift — though she’s so popular she makes a killing from streaming revenues — is making an estimated $13.6mn per performance on her current tour.At the grass roots, where performers hone their craft, venues are struggling and arts funding is dwindlingYou might think that I’m not a fan of live music and performance. But you’d be wrong. In 1988, I spent £12.50 on a ticket to see Jean-Michel Jarre perform in a derelict Royal Victoria Dock. The rain poured, but the light and fireworks show in a unique setting was one of the best live music experiences I’ve witnessed.I’m also vice-president of the Royal Albert Hall. I’m biased, but I think it is one of the finest live event venues in the world. You can see the performers; and hear every note. The food and drinks may not be the cheapest but they’re tasty — and, if you’re in a box, they’ll bring them to you. And drinks are served in a glass!And there’s a bigger problem. Top-end performers rake in big fees and huge sponsorship deals. But at the grass roots, where performers hone their craft, venues are struggling and arts funding is dwindling. It’s a far less expensive evening out and you’ll probably have a better time too. But it’ll be gone if we don’t support what’s on our doorstep. And there’s another reason I won’t bother with the Oasis gig. I always preferred Blur, anyway.James Max is a broadcaster on TV and radio and a property expert. Theviews expressed are personal. X, Instagram & Threads @thejamesmax
