A month ago I got an e-mail alert from Tokyo Police Club saying they were headed to L.A. again, playing the Troubadour in July. I’ve already seen them live; shortly after we moved here last fall I drove across town for their Sunday-night concert at The Echo. For a $5 cover charge I was treated to the kind of energetic, intimate performance that reminded me of my early concertgoing days back in Dallas, when I ‘d go see really great local bands still so pumped up to even have screaming fans that they were hell-bent on giving the best show they could. I didn’t expect to see that same level of energy at this show (or again, really), but I do really like the TPC and wanted to take D along for the ride.
I made it all the way to the “purchase” page on the Ticketmaster site (regrettably, the only way to get advance tickets to Troubadour shows) but just couldn’t pull the trigger. Between all the convenience fees and venue fees and service charges, two $12 tickets were going to cost $50. Something inside of me just couldn’t do it, so I decided that I would stop by the UCLA Ticketmaster outlet next time I was near campus, in hopes of dodging at least some of the rape fees by purchasing in person.
Well, I didn’t go near campus over the next few weeks. And then last Sunday as I was driving home from LA Angst (another post that needs to be written) I heard “Citizens of Tomorrow” on that most hideous of pop stations, KROQ. And unsurprisingly, the show is now sold out.
Part of me is OK with it–I saw the kids when they were fresh; now that they’ve got eight months of touring behind them I doubt it would be a great show. And if I’d really really been desperate to see them again, I would have paid the Ticketmaster rape fees from the get-go. But the whole episode makes me lament the days when you could buy your tickets for face value at the venue box office, and the days when you could count on seeing a band live a few times before their popularity went supernova.
And then I realize I have turned into a curmudgeonly old rock fan, which is one more thing to lament.