I waited hours to be offered Oasis tickets for £700 each – ‘dynamic pricing’ is a disgraceful racket

Saturday was a big day for us in many ways. Not only were we at a wedding, Oasis tickets were going on sale from 9am.

Between us, we had about four or five phones and we were all set up, raring to go. A message from my best friend also told me that she and her husband were trying on their laptops at home. If this was a numbers game, surely we’d ace it…

We had joined the queue as soon as the gates opened. During the ceremony, we dutifully switched our devices to “do not disturb”.

Then, once the bride and groom went to get their pictures taken, we stole a glance at our screens to see how we were doing: “You are 192012901887362 in the queue…” (okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a tad). Still, optimism prevailed as we saw that blue bar creep up, little by little (ahem).

It was then during the wedding breakfast, between starters and mains, that one of us got in: “Wahey!” we exclaimed, before regaining our composure. But by that time, the only option left was standing tickets at £350 a pop.

After a brief consultation, we decided to bite the bullet and proceed. After all, we never thought we’d see the day that the Gallagher brothers would reunite. For that reason, we wanted tickets to the Cardiff show, just in case they had a barney and didn’t make it to Wembley.

But no sooner had we made our selection, we were booted out and given the error message of doom. I frantically tried refreshing my internet browser, only to be told I was a suspected bot. It was a massive blow – and also meant I was out of the running.

Half an hour later, my sister managed to get back to the front of the queue – only this time, the price for standing tickets had skyrocketed – to an eye-watering £700.

It was around this point that the real dilemma kicked in. We were caught somewhere between sunk-cost fallacy (the idea that you’ve waited so long and invested so much time, that you have to see it all the way through – regardless), desire to see the band that had shaped our childhoods perform live and, well, common sense.

Ultimately, we decided the price was just too steep and bowed out. It wasn’t a decision made lightly, and it was made worse by the fact that, technically, we could have gone to the gig. But surge pricing is a racket.

While we didn’t want to willingly bankrupt ourselves for what would essentially be two hours dodging grown men with mod haircuts launching bottles of p*** into the crowd, it’s easy to see why people cave to the pressure when buying tickets.

Your senses are heightened, you are dedicated to the cause and, with the added weight of knowing it will likely never happen again in your lifetime, it all gets too much. It’s essentially a high-intensity poker game in a casino, one with thousands of players betting with huge amounts of money, or, like us, deciding to fold.

Of course, it isn’t just Oasis fans that have faced this predicament. Most recently, although Taylor Swift opted out of “dynamic pricing” algorithms for her Eras Tour, which ensure higher prices when demand is high or supply is low, and lower prices when demand is low, prices were still hefty to say the least. I was lucky enough to bag myself some £75 tickets for Wembley, but I saw other seats up in the gods jump to well over £100 – not to mention the VIP packages up for grabs at £500+ each.

What made things worse was self-proclaimed super-Swifties buying up tickets to multiple dates – which not only forced people to pay beyond their means to buy tickets, but also deprived other fans of the ability to see their favourite artist altogether. Let’s also not forget the many influencers and celebs who were offered prime seats for free, and had the gall to say they weren’t even fans (eesh).

The monopolisation and politicisation of ticket-buying has rankled with me for years. I don’t agree with being bumped into buying “VIP packages”, or hospitality boxes , much less ticket sellers preying on the vulnerable. True fans don’t laud their wealth over others, and true artists don’t go into it for the payout.

Not only does this system push people to stretch themselves financially, it creates yet another barrier for those from lower-income households. When I was younger, tickets had set prices and I knew how much to save in advance. Now, it’s like the Wild West.

Thankfully, culture secretary Lisa Nandy has called for a review into dynamic pricing, which will look into whether the likes of Ticketmaster should be more transparent about its surge pricing. It won’t mean much for Oasis fans who have already missed the boat or paid several times over the odds to stand in a field in Manchester, but at least it’ll provide hope for future gig-goers if they get some kind of reform.

As for me, this whole experience has jaded things. If I had bought tickets, the cost would have left such a bitter taste, I wouldn’t have fully enjoyed the event. Maybe one day I won’t look back in anger – but right now, I am pretty miffed.