JUSTICE AT FACE VALUE: THE GIG ECONOMY FINALLY MEETS ITS ENCORE
Wet Leg (Morris Shamah/Northern Exposure)
It’s official, the UK government has decided that tickets should cost what they say on the tin. No more touts charging the price of a week’s rent for the privilege of standing in a muddy field, craning your neck at a stage the size of a postage stamp. No more “dynamic pricing” that makes capitalism look like a slot machine rigged against the fans. For once, justice arrives at face value.
Of course, the irony is delicious. The same state that shrugs at housing crises and legal delays suddenly finds its moral compass when Radiohead and Dua Lipa complain about resale prices. It’s not that fans were invisible before it’s that the wrong people were being fleeced. When the industry’s darlings cry foul, suddenly the government hears the music.
Meanwhile, UK Music’s annual report trumpets an £8 billion contribution to the economy, as if culture can only be measured in GDP. Yes, jobs matter. Yes, exports matter. But what about the grassroots venues shuttered by rising rents? What about the bands who never make it past the pub circuit because touring Europe now requires a lawyer, a visa, and a miracle? The numbers are dazzling, but they erase the cracks in the stage.
Fans will save an average of £37 per ticket under the new ban. That’s a week’s groceries, or a train fare to the gig itself. It’s not just money, it’s dignity. It’s the difference between music as a communal lifeline and music as a luxury commodity. And yet, the victory feels partial. We’ve outlawed the touts, but not the systems that make exploitation the default setting.
So let’s call this what it is: a rare encore where fans actually get to sing along. The industry will still spin its numbers, the government will still bask in borrowed applause, and artists will still tour under impossible conditions. But for once, the crowd wins a verse. And that, in a culture built on erasure, is worth shouting about.
