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You Give Gigs A Bad Name

November 2, 2009

Since the plug was pulled on The London Paper last month, I’ve been avoiding the London L(Sh)ite like it’s a man with the pox. But every now and again, I brace myself, snap on the latex gloves and pick one up. I picked up a copy today and found a little story on page three about the forthcoming Bon Jovi gig at the O2.

I accept that ticket prices for concerts are expensive now. The biggest names can command the highest prices. After 25 years, you should expect Bon Jovi to have the clout and the confidence to name their price, but Mother of God… £1,3000 for a front row seat?! Actually, it’s one thousand, two hundred and seventy five pounds and three pence, to be precise. The three pence is very important here because a big rich band like that needs every penny it can get. Every time I quoted that price to myself, my voice got higher and higher to such a pitch that only dogs can hear me now. Even Barbra Streisand was only £500 top wack at her last London gig and we all thought at the time that Dick Turpin must’ve been her agent.

I don’t like Bon Jovi’s big haired girl-rock. If you handed me a free ticket on an ermine trimmed velvet cushion and stuffed £10,000 in my back pocket for turning up I would go nowhere near, but for the many fans who have followed them for most of their career I think it’s bang out of order to expect them to pay the kind of prices you reserve for corporate schmoozers or Russian Oligarchs who would see it as small change.

Shame on you, Bon Jovi, Shame on you.

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