There are said to have been times when the start of advance sales for big concerts was a nice, collective experience. The cliques agreed to meet up at the ticket counters at the Düsseldorf Philipshalle or the Hamburg sports hall at five in the morning. People had cassette recorders and sausage sandwiches with them and scrounged cigarettes from others in line. Every now and then Peter Maffay himself came by, served coffee and signed 20-mark notes. If you believe the old stories, buying tickets must often have been more fun than the later concerts.
Absurd concert prices for Pearl Jam, Adele, Taylor Swift: My ticket, my ruin – culture
