When exclusive access isn't inclusive
When exclusive access isn't inclusive
A renaissance in ticketing and disabled access is sorely needed
I went to Beyoncé in Cardiff (via Bristol) last week, and I am left totally baffled as to when this woman sleeps or just how many people she has working under her. A total fever dream of a concert, it’s an odyssey of Kubrick proportions that leans into the concept of her being an Alien Superstar that lives on a totally different stratosphere.
A concert within a cinematic universe, no split second goes by without a cultural reference, a celebration of Blackness or her terrestrial life force.
When you are not impressed by her tenacity as a performer who dons different character and facial tics for each song, you are lost in the accompanying visuals, later to be trolled by the intro to Formation: “You’ve asked for the visuals. You’ve called for the queen – but a queen moves at her own pace, bitch! She decides when she wants to give you a fucking taste!”
That’s us told. The album’s visuals will come when she’s good n’ ready, so pipe down. Until then, go see the show. Honestly, if you can afford it, go. If you have some other engagement, cancel. If you’re getting married, don’t. Of course, we can watch the tour unfold each night via other people’s Instagram stories, but this is worth it, if you can afford it.