Opinion: Who needs Oasis tickets - see a tribute act instead

Or if angsty 90s indie isn't your thing, how about ACDC tribute band, Dirty DC? Australia's finest Geordies were at Wembley earlier this year but tickets sold like the hottest of hot cakes. No I didn't, as you ask. And I'm still not talking to my mate who said he'd get them....

Still, the budget version will be just as good, right? Although I'm not sure there's room on a small stage for ACDC's omnipresent inflatable Rosie.

Kahn is our new Keyboard Worrier and columnist (Image: Contributed) But the piece got me thinking.

Who deserves a tribute act? Who decides? Who wakes up one morning and thinks "You know what? I'm going to spend the rest of my life pretending to be (Australian singer) Bon Scott. (Any Gen Z sorts reading this may want to have Google to hand. I'm not one for up-to-date pop culture references).

Way back in the dim and distant past, tribute bands were new, a novelty. 

I once spent an evening watching No Way Sis (a far better name) at my old university. I didn't particularly want to, especially as I only like one album, but the person I was with was gorgeous and I'd been trying to get a date with her for the whole time I was at university. Sure, we now lived three hours apart, but I had a car and boundless optimism and hope.

And the following morning, at least I still had my car. 

Because the one abiding memory I had of that night was watching a bunch of musicians, and good ones to be fair, turn a covers band you'd put up with down the pub into an actual touring operation people were willing to pay to watch.

And this, dear reader, was at a time when Oasis were still a going concern and dynamic ticket pricing couldn't rob you of your dreams.

I mean, fair play. I'm not here to judge. Most of us have wanted to be in a band at some stage (I could have learnt to actually sing, I could have learnt to actually play one of my five guitars, but we are where we are), so if you get to play to a sweaty crowded room full of people singing along does it matter if you're playing someone else's songs?

That's for others to judge.

Judgey teenage me sniffed derisively. Old man me shrugs and wishes the bands well.

And let's not forget the godfathers of the whole shooting match - The Bootleg Beatles.

Now here, at least, I can see the point. 

Your chances of seeing The Beatles play live have been nil since Macca said no more in 1970 - and they completely evaporated in 1974. So a bunch of Scousers screaming Love Me Do to people actually listening made sense. 

Them headlining a festival in Ipswich in the late 1990s was a bit of a surprise, but hey. At least they weren't likely to be playing Glastonbury at any point were they?
What? Oh...

Anyhow, moving on.

The rules back then seemed to be Bands You Couldn't See Anymore (and Oasis). There was Limehouse Lizzy, Nearvarna; Pink Floyd had a couple (and still do).

But the rules are gone now, and with them the great names of yore. In their place, bands are making a living touring the country as tribute bands (do NOT call them covers bands) for acts you could still see - internet connections and Ticketmaster's whims not withstanding - at an arena near you. 

But what of the artists who don't seem to be worthy of a tribute? Where's a Ted Sheeran? Taylor Swift? Adele 24 (name will need updating annually). Maybe now they've had to retire, it's time to rescue Aerosmith from their job of naming Chinese takeaways - how many Wok This Ways do we need? Boston's finest would surely pack out theatres up and down the land. Rag Dolls, perhaps? Or Dude (Looks Like A Payday). 

I guess the bit teenage me missed is that such bands can bring the music of huge stars (and Bon Jovi) to the masses on a Tuesday night in Sudbury. Spreading the love, the message, and the music that moved the performer enough to want to start their tribute band. 

And if it means some youngsters get to experience live music in the flesh rather than via YouTube, who are we to judge?