Tuesday, October 30, 2012


Supply and demand, people. Supply and demand. The most basic business principle since the first prostitute thought "Ag, why the hell not..."
If the Bon Jovi tickets are too pricey for you, just don't go. I guarantee you the tickets will be sold out regardless of your bitter complaints. The minute a concert doesn't sell out is the minute the tickets are overpriced. Otherwise it could be argued that all things beyond your financial grasp are overpriced. Yet you don't see me bitching about not owning 24 Ferraris.
Big Concerts is a business, not your personal gateway to the stars.

Personally, I can say with absolute certainty that I outgrew Jon, Richie and friends roughly 24 years ago. I can still sing along to all the hits off Slippery When Wet and New Jersey, though.

And although I abhor "It's My Life", you can't deny the slick cool of Richie Sambora's intro to "Wanted Dead Or Alive". I foresee a bunch of middle aged people singing along to "Livin' On A Prayer" at the top of their lungs, having the time of their lives. Then heading off halfway through the third encore to pick up the kids from Grandma.

I'm saving myself for bands that don't wear cowboy boots.

I wonder if our next generations are going to moan as much when aberrations like Nicki Minaj travel here when they're washed up? Oh wait, hang on. That could be much sooner than we think, since the average longevity of current "Pop stars" is roughly as long as it takes to download their YouTube video. I say fuck everyone, give me Lemmy Kilmister or Keith Richards any day of the week. They will never die and they epitomise cool as fuck and rock 'n' roll's indomitable spirit of up yours.


NGDG: I love that my friends have a child called Neal. I read about his adventures and pretend that it's MY life in which I shit on rugs and head butt people for fun. This kid is more rock and roll than I'll ever be.

Spread The Love. You Can Even Give It A Bad Name. Like Bieber.

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