I’m furious I missed out on Oasis tickets

Dynamic pricing seems so unfair

September 3, 2024 4:02 p.m.

My youngest son came back from Reading Festival a couple of weekends ago, carrying a bag of dirty laundry and the remains of a tent. He was sunburned, his voice was hoarse from all the singing and he was about to go to bed for a 16 hour night, but he had time to tell me about the highlights of the trip.

Gerry Cinnamon was brilliant, as were Catfish and the Bottlemen, but his eyes lit up when he talked about Liam Gallagher, who was headlining the final night. He loved the songs, the sing-alongs, the chats between Liam and the crowd and, best of all, the pictures of Liam and Noel together were on the giant video screen – which meant the reunion was happening, it was happening. Oasis were getting back together, playing a few shows and my two sons had to be there, given that the last time Oasis played together as a band, my boys were two and five respectively.

Their enthusiasm for Oasis reminded me of my own nearly 30 years ago. I saw the brothers in 1996, at the height of Britpop, and it was at Maine Road, Manchester City’s stadium at the time. There were 40,000 people there, Noel was playing his Union Jack guitar, Liam was smoking on stage, and the night started with ‘Swamp Song’ and ended with ‘Cum on Feel the Noize’. I’ve always kept a diary, so I dug out what I’d written for 28th April that year; it won’t win any awards for creative writing, but I loved the evening and may have used the word “ace.”

I’m glad we’re a musical family. We go to a lot of gigs and I admire the fact that my sons’ generation love good music, they don’t care if it’s trendy or old. My eldest son loves Elbow almost as much as Taylor Swift and my youngest will have Drake and Billy Ocean on the same playlist. So Operation Oasis was on the cards for the Derbyshire house on Saturday morning.

We all signed up, filled out the anti-bot questionnaire, made sure our Ticketmaster account information was up to date and working, set alarms (my sons are 17 and 20 – getting up at 8am on a Saturday is always a bit of a drag) and settled in to join the 9am queues, slightly annoyed that the pre-sale tickets were being resold on secondary sites before we were even allowed to try.

You probably know the stories: getting kicked off the site (tick), being told there are 412,000 of you in the queue (tick), trying to buy tickets only to be told they are no longer available (tick) and finally, finding out that the already extortionate £150 tickets are now £355 and seated tickets are almost £500. The tickets were described on the site as “high demand” – well, thanks for that Ticketmaster, I would never have guessed that. It was “dynamic pricing” in action.

Apparently, the logic is that raising prices for in-demand tickets will discourage touts and the artists will make extra money, rather than organized opportunists looking to cash in. Bruce Springsteen—who, like the Gallaghers, has the image of a blue-collar, common man—made this argument when he authorized it for his American tour last year: “Hey, why shouldn’t that money go to the guys who are going to be up there sweating three hours a night for this?” he said.

I guess it’s up to you to decide whether you feel better knowing that all that extra money is going to the band, but either way, the customer loses out on what could be considered an “official” promotion. Former Ticketmaster CEO Fred Rosen said after the Taylor Swift ticketing controversy, “I have no sympathy for people who complain about high ticket prices… They’ve helped create this situation where artists have to make all their money on tour.”

So it’s our fault, and the ticket agencies pretend that we accept dynamic pricing in other aspects of our lives. Just look at the cost of booking a holiday during school holidays: why is it any different? The argument could be that if I want to go on holiday to Spain and airline A’s tickets are too expensive, I can usually try airline B or C. But it’s not the same for concert tickets.

Why don’t ticket agencies tell us in advance that the prices originally listed are only indicative? Tickets will certainly not be cheaper than that, but they may be three or four times as expensive. Or they might tell us not to try at all in the first place, because that means they will be “in high demand” – sure, you can always try a week later, they might advise us, but they will probably be so “in high demand” that there won’t be any left.

Or maybe the artists could issue a statement saying that they agreed to “dynamic pricing” and that it’s because they want the extra money and don’t want touts getting their hands on it. For many of us, not getting a ticket is one thing – it’s just the way it is, it’s a fluke – but finding out that I could get a ticket but it’s going to cost me a fortune and I won’t find out the real price until I get to the box office seems a little, well, underhanded. Legal, yes, but not fair.

I’m sure the negative feelings will have long since faded by the time the band takes to the stage next summer. And I’ll try not to be too disappointed about not being able to attend what will be a great concert and community event. Taylor Swift’s experience in the US has sparked political debate and discussions about legislative changes, and I’m glad the government here is at least looking into it, if not banning it.

But no matter how much we love an artist, how close we feel to them, how much we feel we have shared memories, Oasis, Bruce or Taylor don’t owe us anything and if we have a problem with that, we can always go see someone else.

Victoria Derbyshire is a BBC journalist, presenter and broadcaster Newsnight And Ukrainecast