The problem with stadium concerts

Conor Bezane

They take the stage with the words “Are you ready to rock?” and conclude the concert with the big radio hit. They show off their musical prowess with extended self-indulgent guitar solos and say things like “Without you guys, none of this would be possible.”

Who are they?

Creed- and nearly every other standard, radio-ready rock band that has toured the sports stadiums and amphitheaters of the world.

Every time I see a concert in a huge arena, I swear to myself I’ll never do it again.

Masses of preppy suburban kids wandering around in overpriced $30 concert T-shirts they bought just to prove they were there. Over-the-hill burnouts who came to the show just to smoke some pot while hiding in the anonymity of the crowd. The stench of stale nacho cheese permeating the place, detracting your attention from the music.

These are just the minor problems — the idiosyncrasies that define the typical rock concert.

They were magnified to the highest degree Friday as Creed, Sevendust and 3 Doors Down performed at Hilton Coliseum.

Sure I’ve been to my share of stadium shows. I’ve seen Smashing Pumpkins, R.E.M., Stone Temple Pilots, countless Lollapaloozas, and even Bon Jovi (don’t tell).

But Friday night’s Creed show was my first full-fledged stadium rock concert. I mean that in the cheesy, rock clich‚ sort of way.

Loaded with pyrotechnics, explosions, flames and gleaming stage lights, Creed’s performance fit the typical rock concert formula more than any concert I’ve ever seen.

Creed frontman Scott Stapp walked up and down the stage, reaching his hands into the audience and giving them high-fives. He tried his hardest to sound deep and profound when introducing his songs. He told the audience what they wanted to hear, kissing up to them by saying the Cyclones rule.

Here’s my biggest problem with arena rock shows — they’re impersonal to the point of boredom.

A line of division exists between performer and audience that can never be broken at a stadium concert.

To the guys up on stage, the fans are just heads in the crowd — another $27.50 in the bank.

As I sat and watched all the fans get excited when the band broke into their mega-hit, “Higher,” I longed for the intimacy smaller venues can provide, and only hoped a nice, 1000-capacity venue would open one day in Ames and attract a diversified body of artists.

Maybe there are some bands out there that can actually pull off a large-scale stadium concert. I have yet to experience one first-hand.

Still, while it may have been a bit on the ordinary side, not breaking any boundaries or charting new territory, the Creed show gave the massive crowd at Hilton Coliseum something to get excited about.

For what it’s worth, that means something.


Conor Bezane is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Chicago. He is arts and entertainment editor of the Daily