04. The Making of a Bad Gig

What does a fan-centering concert look like?

Hi there. Welcome to Active Faults.

Last night I went to see the Taiwanese pop rock band Accusefive (告五人) at Troxy. Despite the stellar performances delivered by the trio on the closing night of their Euroamerican leg, it was arguably the worst concert experience I’ve had in London since I moved here. So much felt off about the production, the set-up and the general organisation it made me wonder: what does a fan-centering concert actually look like?

Today, let’s talk about the logistical decisions of concerts, the attitude towards fandom they entail, and everything a fan event organiser could do to ensure that fans would stick around. Most of it won’t be feasible or profitable but, Alas, a girl can dream.

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As with many of my past issues, I started typing this one out in my Notes app with a kind of fury that couldn’t wait until I got home. However, I do need to stress that this is not a hate piece on Accusefive themselves. Fellow “Honeydew Melons” (their fanbase name) don’t have to come at me, because I’ve been a listener since 2020 when they were still indie ingenues posting demos on Streetvoice, a Taiwanese Soundcloud-adjacent listening platform. They are as talented as I imagined, whose stage presences came with so much banter, humility and heartwarming charm. What irked me was everything else.

The concert fell on London Marathon Sunday, which, dare I argue, is a planning faux-pas that was somewhat preventable. It didn’t help that the roads around the venue were directly impacted by traffic control measures, on a weekend after four days of Tube strikes that stalled the city significantly. And, God forbid, it was sunny. The commute to the venue was overstimulation nation with limping marathon finishers, their close-to-heatstroke loved ones, overwhelmed tourists, screaming school trip children, and what felt like every single Londoner who decided to come out for the good weather. The event organiser as well as the band members themselves have warned on their social media accounts that Doors time has been pushed back, and that fans should arrive much earlier to leave ample time for entrance. However, the information on the ticket seller app, Dice, was not amended accordingly. There was also no mention of any change of timings in the reminder email Dice sent to all ticket-holders that morning.

The result was that many fans ended up queuing around Troxy for over an hour in confusion. I saw a girl on Xiaohongshu who similarly had a “speechless concert experience” at this gig, citing that she and many others bought food outside because of the long wait, only for it to be forcibly discarded at the security checks. In defense of the venue, such a policy is not uncommon. But it also doesn’t make sense if you shut down the food kiosk inside the venue and only serve overpriced drinks to famished fans. The friend I went with ended up not eating anything until 11PM.

Already I spotted several age-old fandom debates that underlie these hiccups, most notably the problem of when and where an artist should play a show. Could the artist management team have foreseen the date clash with one of the world’s most renowned and attended sport events? I’d say absolutely. The ballot and dates of marathons are opened and announced a year in advance, right around the time the company orchestrates a tour. Even if things fall out of alignment and they couldn’t have avoided the clash, it could’ve been better communicated prior to and on the day of the event.

Beyond Accusefive, last-minute changes to a concert schedule are almost always miscommunicated for every artist ever. My not so conspiratorial theory is that it’s deliberate. I’ve written about SEVENTEEN and their cancelled sound check, where they waited until it’s too late for fans to back out to announce it.

Most recently, I saw on my timeline how Zayn called off a special performance the night before and even some of his most devoted fans felt disheartened at how poorly handled it was. This came after a previous cancellation in 2024 when he pulled out of performing in Newcastle minutes before showtime. They rightly protested that if he had a serious and chronic health issue, the symptoms would’ve been long-present and he could’ve at least not wasted anyone’s time by giving them an earlier heads-up. That would’ve potentially led to huge financial losses on the artist’s end as well as a costly fandom uproar, which is much more unacceptable than having the goers absorb the price of travels or accommodations at their own expense.

Accusefive is indie enough to be safe from criticism of preferential treatment when it comes to their selection of tour stops. They hit the usual metropolises with enough flair to take a liking to alt music, including Berlin, Paris, London, LA and NYC. The same cannot be said about K-pop groups and their clear, continuous neglect of European countries on their tours, even when their popularity here can sell out stadiums in an instant. The reasoning behind this has been exposed by many fans, which is ultimately an issue of money: the companies won’t get as much revenue out of ticket sales in Europe compared to, say, the United States, where dynamic pricing reaps astronomical numbers. Instead, they much prefer to play a dozen shows in Japan for a month straight, where an exclusive, brand new merch line will be pushed out without fail for maximum profit. The end result is fandom infighting that escalates to bigotry, where the Europeans hate the Americans who hate the Chinese and Koreans who hate the Japanese who hate the Southeast Asians. Again, fandom is seen as an emotionless revenue stream. It absorbs the shocks of administrative and logistical decisions made by the artist and the companies. These splinters are not of immediate concern of the industry because cash is still pouring in regardless, but dissatisfaction and resentment will only reduce long-term loyalty.

None of the above are news to fandom, of course. What really aggravates the fans is hypocrisy and double standards, since the artists are not completely shying away from Europe or other unfavoured continents. They seem content enough to do one-off music festival appearances at Coachella, Glastonbury and Lollapalooza, flying to places like Saudi Arabia and Mexico for these gigs to somewhat pacify the fanbase. But it’s all about the publicity that comes with the “titleships”: the first group to play to a X number of crowd, the first group to headline in the Arab world, the first group to step foot on LATAM soil. In reality, most genuine fans are still excluded from seeing them live, lacking the means and desire to attend an exhausting, expensive festival at which their favourites play for 40 minutes or less. I haven’t been a Carat for long, but in this short period of time I’ve witnessed such an onslaught of fan disappointment expressed both online and offline about this greedy and fan-decentering inattention, which has driven them away from SEVENTEEN.

My TL:DR for the event organisers:

• Do more research. Get some expertise from locals at every tour stop to inform decisions regarding timings and dates. Generally avoid weekdays, holidays and major national events to minimise travel disruptions.

• Communicate. If there’s a way to blast fans with promotional junk emails every week, there surely is a way of blasting a change of plan via multiple channels.

• Feed us properly. If you lack the capacity to pump out quality food internally, invite and host smaller restaurateurs for residencies. Partner with on-the-go vendors around the premise for cheaper, tastier and more diverse food options. I’m so tired of eating 17-dollar unseasoned chicken tenders and fish fingers burnt by soulless vegetable oil. Be less fucking greedy for once, and it will go a long way.

• Equalise shows across continents. I recognise that there might be obstacles with booking stadiums that are very concrete and inviolable, but if you’ve got the resources to run endless urban spectacles that involve turning a ferris wheel a certain colour for a couple of hours, surely you’ve got ways to materialise your singers in more cities.

Dice represents a shift in the industry that I’m mostly optimistic about. Their tagline is concerts “done differently”. A global lineup of artists including Paloma Faith, Woodz and other Taiwanese bands like Sunset Rollercoaster have been partnering with this app for ticket sales that supposedly protect the fans better. What I must commend is their effort to reduce scalping, mainly through releasing the ticket QR codes a mere two hours before the show starts. Billie Eilish has done the same thing for her O2 shows last year. It is a slick move which makes them a worthy opponent against the man-spreading monopolies of Ticketmaster and AXS.

Unfortunately, the side effect is that genuine fan resellers with no intention of scalping could be wronged and mistrust could breed within the fan community. At the Accusefive show, three girls sat behind me who didn’t know each other beforehand. They all got resale tickets off of another fan, who they thought was a scammer because they couldn’t provide the QR codes in advance. I had an identical experience at Billie, where my reseller travelled from Italy for the show, didn’t speak much English, couldn’t figure out data roaming and couldn’t send me the tickets after they became live. I was already on my way out and stressing my head off. Luckily everything was resolved just in time, but I could see how these preventative measures add an element of anxiety to an already arduous journey of concert-going. As much as I find it endurable for the sake of anti-scalping, I just know that it won’t exterminate it once and for all.

Lee Youngji, the Korean rapper I’ve written about, was recently viral for her sweary callout of scalpers despite her best antics to keep them at bay. She said that she “tried everything she can” and even reduced the ticket price by 10,000 won on her end, but it was still inflated against her will. Other artists are generally less vocal about scalping, which results in inflation into the five and six figures. Alongside scalpers there is a new trade on the horizon called the booker (代拍), who is someone that secures the tickets for you for a smaller additional fee. Bookers for the latest BTS tour were charging 3000 RMB for this act of booking alone. There’s also blatant platform collusion that was called out by none other than the Jack Antonoff.

jackantonoff@jackantonoff

you caught you?

Ticketmaster @Ticketmaster

An update on ticket releases for Harry Styles Together, Together in NYC! We caught scalpers with tickets, took action and we are working with Harry and his team to get them back to fans at the original price. 🎫 Scroll for more info.

10:46 PM · Apr 22, 2026 · 2.82M Views

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536 Replies · 6.56K Reposts · 78.5K Likes

I wonder if there could be a feature of generating evidence of a valid ticket before the official release to aid fans in their reselling. I wonder if artists could rally together to actively discourage scalping. But mostly, I’m wondering why there still aren’t sufficient technologies or legal instruments to target scalping, and who’s benefitting from this dearth.

We sat down at our seats, t-40 minutes. I noticed the lack of standing GA, which didn’t seem like much to me at that time. We were in rear stalls, a slightly elevated section about 15 rows down from where the partition was with the front stalls. I thought I would get a decent view based on the price I paid, but I realised I was gravely mistaken. The overhang from the upper circles is claustrophobic and obstructive, like we were watching Phantom of the Opera, except with much worse acoustics due to the architecture of Troxy. Why auditorium shaped if not auditorium sound?! Throughout the entirety of the show, I was struggling to hear the performances, but I (begrudgingly) caught every single snippet of the conversations people were having around me. None of the auditory textures from the performances were able to reach our section. Meanwhile, the digital screens played visual effects instead of camera close-ups. Fair enough, it was pretty standard for a rock band to not have a film crew and face cams. But why sell idol-style lightsticks for £12 if not idolmaxxing? The end result was all of us feeling like we were too far away from a high school talent show to pretend we are emotionally attached, which would explain all the chit-chatting.

I was briefly furious at the lack of concert etiquette exhibited by my countrypeople, but I now think that we aren’t the ones to blame. The seating plan has completely failed to engage the audience and immerse us in the scene. The rows of red banquet chairs gave off vibes of a corporate convention, a company function that you’d try and fake an illness for. The bars and bathrooms located near the rear stalls did not turn off their lights, which meant that the section was well lit like a movie theater before a film plays. We couldn’t see much of the stage and we couldn’t hear much of the songs, so my proximity became the back row in a classroom where the teacher couldn’t tame. I felt as if it was a patch of lawless land, where some of us were conversing and sipping on drinks, scrolling Douyin on speaker, texting with their screens on maximum brightness. Any other built structures—stadiums, arenas, appropriately-sized livehouses and bars—would have created a better ambience and lulled us into the right headspace. The bizarre mongrel of Troxy’s capacity, interior design and decor has resulted in a stiff sense of “none of us are in the right place”.

Unzoomed view of the show.

The awkwardness peaked when the setlist got to the hype songs. A lot of people in the rear stalls made a run for a strip of standing space near the partition that gave them a closer view and a more immersive, “GA pit” experience. The venue staff stopped them from pushing into the front stalls, so they ended up squeezing between the barricade and the chairs, blocking the views of everyone who stayed seated. When the hype song finished, the staff ushered them back to their seats as the next song began to play, but did not interfere when they inevitably ran again later on. These runners chit-chatted on their way “home”, again drowning the performance for everyone else. I was laughing at the ridiculously funny commotion, the to-and-fro, the voracious sprint and the tail-tucking retreat back to our respective Hobbit burrows. Accusefive themselves even commented on this, joking that they can wait for everybody to get back to their positions before resuming. The front stalls had a similar situation, where people further away from the stage pushed from behind and herded the front rows into a strip next to the sound equipment, right under the feet of the artists.

I enumerated these pedantic details because you need to note just how many moving parts go into a concert setup, how much you need to consider. This chaos is caused by 1) inappropriate spacing of seats and 2) a lack of proper barriers/segmentation. It also owes much to the fact that Troxy has the wrong layout, which needed either 1) to eliminate rear stalls and expand front stalls or 2) no seats on the floor, period. I am certain that the artists have not sat in the rear stalls before the show to put themselves in our shoes. I am also convinced that the local event organisers are not familiar with the oeuvre of Accusefive, the effects their music evoke, or the behaviour patterns of its fanbase. It makes perfect sense to me that of course fans will run when they see an opportunity. Of course they will want to stand up and dance to a pop rock band. There is no fault in that. The cacophony was predictable, but this logical sequence of happenstances won’t register to the people in charge.

I cannot emphasise enough that so many concerts and fandom events are run on an apparent ignorance of its audience. The more horrifying truth pill to swallow is that they simply don’t see fans as human beings, nor care enough about our basic needs. We starve, thirst, hold in our pee and use the same tampon. It is assumed that we have all the time in the world, we set aside a whole day (sometimes two) and we can always magically pull up with ease. We get told to arrive early and queue (sometimes in extreme weather), which is so often framed as a voluntary act that the company discourages from. We faint and pass out, over-pay for the ticket, get scammed, get on red-eye flights and share a hostel room with a stranger. We risk getting assaulted by the staff, insulted by other fans, robbed on our way out of a stadium too remotely located. Every concert veteran I’ve spoken to has told me something along the lines of “you never know how strong you are until you’ve been to a show”. We talk about it like extreme sports athletes. We’ve been Hyroxing before the term even existed.

Many might call the modern fans “snowflakes” and claim that these physical feats have persisted for decades in the memories of every music lover. I’d argue that much more labour is demanded of the modern fan, where much less reward or joy is ensured and promised. It’s this disproportion and inequity that we’re contesting with. Relatedly, a comment under my last issue on Chinamaxxing suggests that every other country is equally flattened on social media, because that’s just how the platforms work. My point is that China has already been warped by Orientalist recounts for centuries, othered with an exacting purpose of justifying its political, economical and social alienation. Any further reduction and simplification of the country in today’s age cannot be amnesic to this context. Chinamaxxing won’t ever carry the same connotation as Francemaxxing or Italymaxxing, just like how romanticising a Western country is never the same as romanticising the East, and the underlying message of celebrating the Global North is different to when you celebrate the Global South.

My TL:DR for the event organisers:

• Do something about scalping, for crying out loud. Do something about bots and other illicit tools. Lower prices. Further limit the number of tickets purchasable at checkout. Track and flag and blacklist suspected scalpers. Recall tickets at their face value if fans can’t attend and want to return them. Do a waitlist. Set up a walk-in queue on the day of the show for fans without a ticket and redistribute the unsold ones.

• Canvass the venue thoroughly. Devise the seating plan bearing in mind fan tendencies. Hell, consult the fans themselves.

• Think of fans as real people with real lives.