U2gliness—By PJ
Screaming Green Bono (watercolor, manipulated at Photomosh.com) by Kelly Eddington, 2009. Based on a photo from Q Magazine’s “U2 Are Back” cover story, Feb. 2009.
U2gliness
PJ DeGenaro
Well, This Will Probably Get Me Blocked.
I wrote an earlier version of this small diatribe before Christmas, then got cold feet about publishing it when everyone was in such good spirits. But now that additional dates have been announced for Stories of Surrender, I think it’s become timely again.
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Happy New Year, achtoon babies! I hope you all had lovely, warm, and joyful holidays. And wasn’t it a gift to see U2 all together at the Kennedy Center, having a laugh and sitting politely while other people tortured their songs?
But the holidays are over now, so I’m going to get down to business and write about something that’s been buggin’ me.
I have tickets to see Bono at New York’s Beacon Theater on May 3, which is as of now no longer the final night of his “Songs of Surrender” tour.
I considered not bothering this time, because I was there for opening night in November. And you may remember that Kelly and I had an amazing experience at the New Yorker Festival interview in October. But I live just a short train-ride from midtown Manhattan, and if Bono is playing right in my front yard, I’ll at least try to go see him.
I got my tickets in the presale. In the fall, I’d opted for the lower balcony. But I’ve been working my ass off, I just got a raise, and YOLO or something, so this time I went for orchestra.
I was number two in the queue for May 3—again, the last night of the tour, and a Wednesday to boot. Even so, the first five or possibly 10 rows seemed to be unavailable. I did my best and pounced on Orchestra Row O (as in Bon-Oh). The entire transaction took under five minutes.
I won’t lie; the tickets are expensive.* If I wanted to see Wicked that same night, from a similar seat, it would cost about half of what I paid to see Bono. On the other hand, Wicked has been on Broadway for nearly 20 years, and there are multiple performances every week. Supply and demand? (Also, I do not want to see Wicked.)
I’m no fan of the shadowy entity that is LiveNation/Ticketmaster, currently under investigation by the Department of Justice. I’m not a lawyer, but it seems to me that the very existence of this mega-corp must violate some anti-trust laws. Possibly even the Clayton Act! Unfortunately, as we are all too aware, the DOJ moves in mysterious ways operates according to its own timeline.
I’m reasonably sure that Bono chose to do a residency at the Beacon because, while it isn’t in New York City’s theater district, it’s at least adjacent to it. It’s also just a few blocks away from his NYC pied-à-terre. I understand the frustration of fans who live far away from New York, but after all, this isn’t a U2 tour. It’s a theater piece that Bono developed, thoughtfully and painstakingly, as something more substantial and compelling than a standard book tour. It’s analogous to Springsteen on Broadway. Perhaps if it were called Bono on Broadway there would be less resentment.
Yes, the tickets are too expensive. Yes, the public sale appeared to be subject to “dynamic pricing,” even if they’re not using that phrase, a practice which seems designed to favor the wealthy, soak the desperate, and leave everyone else waiting to see if prices will drop closer to the day of the show—which is no help at all if you have to travel. Yes, the entire system is set up to be a scalper’s verified reseller’s wet dream.
That said, I’m just not sure it’s worthwhile, in the Year of Our Edge 2022/3, for any of us to sign into our u2.com account(s), attempt to buy tickets for every single date of Bono’s tour, and report our outrage back on social media—which only drums up more outrage and changes nothing. At this point, is there anyone who doesn’t already know how these sales are gonna go down?
The DOJ is investigating LN/TM. Might make more sense for us to help them maintain focus.
And once again, this isn’t a U2 tour. The show is designed for a small venue. There is no GA, and there are no nosebleeds. Even if you get the shittiest seat in the Beacon, you’ll be close enough. I didn’t want to be a spoiler after opening night, but while I have you here, I will say a few things. If you don’t like salty language, or saltiness in general, navigate away.
One more time: This isn’t a U2 tour, so you won’t be seeing (or missing out on) a U2 show. Larry won’t turn up at the end to dispense drumsticks.
Stories of Surrender is something like a one-man play with musical interludes. Bono does not read from his book. Like an actor, he has his lines committed to memory. He is brilliant, touching, and funny as hell. If you harbor any reservations about his personality or his modus operandi, don’t hurt yourself trying to get a ticket.
If you do go, you will have to sit your ass down and shut the fuck up so everyone else can see and hear.
Shutting the fuck up means not singing loudly, because this isn’t a U2 show, and Bono isn’t gonna do the song the way you expect it. So you will end up flubbing the words and feeling awkward. Also, you are not in a 40,000 seat arena, so everyone can actually hear you, and no one overpaid for tickets for that particular joy.
Shutting the fuck up also means not yelling out shit like “Hi Paul!” to show what a big U2 fan you are, because Bono’s real name isn’t a state secret, and this isn’t a U2 show.
Do not rush the fucking stage. This isn’t a U2 show.
My apologies. I’m angry and frustrated about a lot of things right now. The world is ugly, unstable and scary, and I’m so happy to have just one little weeknight event I can look forward to for the next five months. I’d like to be able to enjoy the anticipation of seeing Bono again without constant reminders that I’m a victim of late-stage capitalism. Yes, when it comes to ticket sales, there are clearly shenanigans and monkeyshines afoot. But that doesn’t excuse the ever-present whiff of entitlement from certain quarters. It just doesn’t.
*Full disclosure: For opening night, in the presale, I paid $100 (plus fees) for a lower balcony seat. For May 3, also in the presale, I paid $350 (plus fees) for an okay-enough orchestra seat.