So, I heard Billy Joel and Sting were playing together in Milwaukee. Seemed like a no-brainer, right? Two legends, one stage. I thought, “Yeah, gotta do this. Been a while since I saw a proper big show.” Figured it’d be a good story, something to tell the grandkids, if I ever have any who care about ancient rock stars.
The Whole Ticket Mess
Man, oh man, the tickets. That was the first sign this wasn’t gonna be like the good old days. I remember just walking up to a box office, maybe waiting an hour, tops. Now? It’s like a military operation. I was there, finger on the button, the second they went on sale. Bam! Gone. All of ’em. Or so it seemed. Then, minutes later, they’re all over those resale sites, costing an arm and a leg. My arm, my leg, and probably a kidney too. I swear, half the seats are bought by robots just to flip ’em. It’s a racket, I tell ya.
Eventually, I bit the bullet, paid way too much for a nosebleed seat from some anonymous reseller. Fine. Then getting to Milwaukee. The flight was okay, nothing special. Hotel was, well, a hotel. You know, the kind where the coffee machine looks like it’s seen better decades. But I wasn’t there for the luxury suite. I was there for the music, or so I kept telling myself.
Showtime in Milwaukee
The show itself? Billy Joel, he’s still got it. Sting, class act. They played the hits, everyone sang along. But you know what? It felt… I dunno… processed. Like a really well-oiled machine, but maybe too well-oiled. And the crowd! Everyone just staring at their phones, recording every damn second. Are you even watching the show, or are you just making a bad video nobody will ever watch? I saw one guy near me livetweeting the whole thing. Seriously? Put the phone down, enjoy the moment!
It just got me thinking. It’s all become such a big business. It’s not really about the music anymore for a lot of these things, is it? It’s about:
- The merchandise stands everywhere, pushing t-shirts for fifty bucks.
- Those VIP packages that cost more than my first car, just for a slightly better view and a cheap lanyard.
- The “experience” that’s carefully curated to make you spend more money at every turn.
I remember seeing bands in tiny clubs, sweat dripping from the ceiling, feeling the bass in your chest. That felt real. This Milwaukee thing, it was big, it was loud, but it felt… distant. Like watching it on a very expensive TV screen with a bunch of strangers who are also on their phones.
It’s funny, because I was telling my nephew about it, and he just didn’t get it. He’s grown up with this. For him, paying a fortune, fighting bots for tickets, and watching half the show through someone else’s phone screen is just… normal. Made me feel old, I guess. Or maybe just nostalgic for a time when things felt a bit more straightforward. I almost wish I’d just stayed home and played their old records. Probably would have saved a bunch of cash and a whole lot of hassle. But hey, at least I got a story out of it, right? A story about how I went to see Billy Joel and Sting in Milwaukee and mostly just got annoyed by the modern concert experience. Not quite the legendary tale I was hoping for.
