The future of arena gigs: does London need another mega concert arena like The Sphere?

It’s genuinely astonishing, yes, and at $2.3bn phenomenally expensive to boot, but as Michael Hann finds out, ‘the capital’s music ecosystem is incredibly fragile at the grassroots’ and this billion-dollar technological marvel could turn the lights off on it for good

(AP/Getty/Sphere London)

The images – it’s been hard to avoid them – are stunning. U2 are specks on a tiny stage, dwarfed by what surrounds them. For “Where the Streets Have No Name” they appear to be playing in an amphitheatre deep in the desert, the sands and skies stretching out behind them, around them. For “Even Better Than the Real Thing” they are centred in a vast, fantastical playground of neon, for “The Fly”, flashing random letters and numbers encompass everything. Welcome to the most technologically advanced rock show in history, at its newest, most expensive venue, The Sphere in Las Vegas. Not to put too fine a point on it, it makes previous stage spectaculars look amateurish: Muse at Wembley Stadium, drones and all, suddenly looks about as advanced as that indie band in the back room of a pub.

The reviewers were duly overwhelmed by the spectacle the band and the venue presented. The screens provided “a sequence of genuinely astonishing visual effects”, the Guardian noted. “The screens are bewilderingly good, so good that it’s impossible to take your eyes off them,” reckoned the Evening Standard. The whole thing “will change live entertainment forever”, said the Daily Telegraph (it’s a measure of how much is invested in this project that reviewers were flown in from outside the US to the opening night; and there was a special incentive to impress British reviewers, which we’ll come to later).

The great revolutions in rock and pop aren’t just the result of visionary musicians; they’re often caused by technological or economic change. To take just one example, the entire shape of pop was determined in 1948, with the launch of the 7in and 12in formats: the single became the teenage telegraph, communicating urgent messages in three-minute bursts at a pocket-money-friendly price; the album was the chosen medium to display artistry, to leave a legacy. Without the 7in, no “Good Vibrations”, or “Ghost Town”, or “Virginia Plain”. Without the 12in, no Sgt Pepper, or London Calling, or What’s Going On.