Impatience is forever mulled over by mankind as we detest the concept of waiting. We’ll constantly check the time, just for the seconds to move even slower, each tick a reminder of the fragility of our conscience and the dichotomy between tolerance and restiveness. However, hand us a concert ticket and we suddenly become calculated machines willing to wait in the cold, rain, or excessive heat. 

Concerts, whether in an arena or small venue, are performances that most people long to experience. Your body is exposed to sounds, colours, and varied denominations of people, all of which share the same singular interest as you - that artist. Through such a bond, there is something so strangely intimate about going to a concert. Despite your exposure, you feel safe around those you can relate to, and a lot of people even make new acquaintances or relationships through these interactions.

Because of this sensation, I’ve found myself front and centre in many gigs by my favourite artists. Over the years, I have experienced different variants of concerts - tiny venues, huge football stadiums, and fields. In 2022, I attended Liam Gallagher’s Knebworth anniversary performance. There, rowdy men doing all kinds of drugs surrounded me as we sang to the iconic music of the late 1990s. But still, I enjoyed it. In 2023, I saw Gracie Abrams perform at the Manchester Academy venue. It was hot and I couldn’t see a thing. But still, I enjoyed it. Earlier this year, I was lucky enough to attend Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour at Murrayfield. It was a six-hour drive, I argued with an arrogant family during Karma, and I had an important exam the next morning. But still, I enjoyed it. 

There is one recurring reason why my dopamine stayed high throughout those three concerts and all of the others I have attended: the artist showed up. But wait, you may wonder, that sounds like a necessity for a concert, right? I thought so too, but until you experience the cancellation announcement through a venue's speakers, you don’t even consider the possibility. And I’m not referring to artists cancelling their stage 48 hours before doors even open. My problem is targeted towards those who cancel their event whilst everybody is already in the venue, waiting, and excited about what they’ve spent their entire day preparing for. 

On September 28th, at exactly 21:30, The Last Dinner Party cancelled their concert in this god-forsaken way. As well as that, throughout the short-lived event, many people have reported discriminatory experiences based on pure prejudice, most of which prevented them from even seeing the opening acts. Here is my perspective of what happened:

At 17:30, my friend and I joined the queue outside of The Engine Shed. It was a short queue, eventually being split into two which allowed us to progress towards the front of the line. Our hopes were high - barricade is always a dream when it comes to concerts and I have only reached such proximity once before. Doors were set to open at 19:00, so throughout that period of wait, the line popularity thickened and it bent around the small square outside the venue. The atmosphere was very friendly - people of all ages were in the queue and nobody gave out a single hint of animosity (bear that in mind, it’ll prove to be important as the anecdote expands). We managed to make acquaintances with a lovely girl in the line and stuck with her for the majority of the experience. 

Naturally, the doors did not open at 19:00. It took around twenty minutes prior to the promised time until we actually entered the building. I was wearing a skirt, a short-sleeved top, and immediately had my mood diminished by the cold, excessive waiting time. I’m not a complainer - I usually see the positive beneath situations, however, this did introduce a few red flags that were proved to be illuminated over time. Luckily, we managed to place ourselves one row behind the barricade. The view was perfect. The openers were amazing - Kaeto had such a joyous stage presence that we practically begged the security to hand us a setlist. However, that was all the show was. Openers.

Left: Kaeto - Right: Lucia & The Best Boys

Holding two crinkled setlists, we began to wait. And wait. And wait. 

From what I’ve gathered in the past, there is usually a consecutive schedule between every small gig. Doors at seven. Openers at eight. And then the main act at nine. So, when there was an hour-long wait with little information after Kaeto’s exit at 20:30., both my friend and I found our joy dwindled. Concert venues are warm, stuffy, and overwhelming. They are not the kind of places where you can wait longer than you have to without any real stimulation. The Lady Dinner Party, keeping up with their aesthetic, play classical music as their pre-show playlist. In the 18th century, that may have been enough to get a jig out of somebody. But, in the modern day, the crowd and I were so numbed by the unattractive sound that all we could focus on was the excessive heat and our dying need for the toilet. Had the show started on time, it would’ve been bearable, but it didn’t. The extra hour of wait proved to affect the crowd negatively.

The staff at the barricade were great, passing cold water out very sufficiently, and we would also assist with passing it to those who needed it. Looking around, I noticed a lot of people putting the water over their faces, holding the cups to their foreheads, and looking genuinely distressed. With a live performance, your dopamine levels rise to a point where issues such as heat and urination are pushed to the back of your mind. But, in those moments, there was nothing to distract us. Our physical distress was all we could think about. Only minutes before the cancellation, a young girl had to be helped by the security, who had clearly found these conditions to be limiting her. I have been to venues with worse heat and horrific security, however, that is not what I am picking at. The moments we all began to struggle, the main act was supposed to be on stage. The wait is my issue. 

The announcement came out of nowhere. Not a single soul came on stage to inform us that the show was cancelled. Instead, it was said through the speakers:

“Tonight's performance at Lincoln Engine Shed has to be cancelled at late notice due to illness. Fans are urged to keep hold of tickets and a further announcement will be made as soon as possible. Please make your way to the exits and security are here to guide you.”

After a two-hour drive, a two-hour queueing experience, and a two-and-a-half-hour wait within the venue itself… they told us to go home. It is insane to me how something like this can be done so swiftly and face no backlash. In no way do I blame the band itself for this - the management and production team should’ve made us aware beforehand, or sent the band on stage minus the singularity of whomever was unwell. To be unwell enough to cancel a concert, they must have known for hours, if not the entire day. Leaving the cancellation until the last minute is simply heart-crushing for those who had queued for a long time (a group at the front of the queue had been there since 8 am). Personally, if the band went on stage, sat down, and played eye-spy for the entire event, I would be significantly happier than I am having not seen them at all. A year's worth of excitement and anticipation being crushed by a random man over a speaker is inhumane. 

If you have never been to a concert, let me use an analogy to explain this feeling: you order an item, limited edition and the exact version you want. You wait for the parcel to arrive, open it up, and it’s empty. Completely empty. They offer you a refund and another version of the item, however, it isn’t the variant that you originally wanted and therefore you won’t enjoy it, nor will you feel completely fulfilled each time you look at the item. You want the original. You want what you paid for. That is how both I and the 1,500 other fans currently feel after our experience at the concert. 

Now, onto the aftermath. 

There were a few things in particular that caught my eye. The first was a small quarrel regarding The Lady Dinner Party’s setlist. A staff member had stuck it to the ground quite early on, suggesting that the band was coming out soon, however - considering they didn’t - a few fans on the barricade decided to ask for it as a keepsake. The production team gave them a very stern no. After that, a nice security worker offered to take a photo of the setlist, but when she reached to do so, she was condemned. From what we saw, the setlist was partially crossed out, meaning that the band was likely considering shortening their set to make up for the illness. This means, most likely, the team was aware of the illness for a while. So why did they cancel it so late? Were they trying to waste our time? I believe this is a clear sign of the lack of organisation and professional awareness behind the scenes. 

Something else that particularly stuck out to me was the irony of the merch stands still being open despite nobody at the venue even seeing the artist. We got no apology, no true explanation as to why the concert was cancelled, however, they still make it clear how much they want even more of our money. 24 hours later and there is no mention from the official band’s social media regarding the cancellation. They still have hold of our money with the suggested possibility of a rescheduled show. Again, I am not blaming the band for this. This is the management and production’s fault.

Moving onto The Engine Shed itself, all the information I have gathered going forward has been from X. According to users who attended the concert, a few staff picked out individual men who were attending the gig alone. There, they “aggressively searched and interrogated” certain male concertgoers. Whether this was a method of ensuring security or not, I feel as though the actions they displayed were very immoral.

Dan @alittlebitdan on X stated: “Just arrived at the gig, been funnelled into a dark corner with other men, told I might be a pervert cus I’m alone and then taken into a room alone with a security guard where I was interrogation and searched. Feel sick”

This tweet gained traction, allowing many other men who were at the gig to describe their very similar experiences. Like I said before, I, as a teenage girl, felt no animosity from anybody in the line. For a venue such as The Engine Shed, it has to be expected that individual men would attend a gig considering it is a venue linked to the University. To single people out just because of their gender and brand them as “perverts” is both prejudiced and discriminatory when it comes to the physical search. 

Paul @Hazy_Rhythms said: “I got asked how long I had liked them for, and to name my favourite song”

Dan @alittlebitdan replied to that: “I was asked my favourite song too and she didn’t seem to like my answer”

To deprive somebody of leisure - a human right - and quiz them purely because they are a lone man isn’t something that should be looked past. The Engine Shed released a statement regarding the issues, however, it offers little explanation and is more of an apology to try and erase the accusations altogether. The mental impact of such an experience can evoke a range of negative emotions. Embarrassment, resentment, and especially self-doubt. With such an unwarranted label, a person can begin the question their behaviour, outward appearance, or altogether safety when alone. The general fortitude it takes to attend a concert by yourself is impressive, so an unexpected thing like discussed would leave a person feeling wronged and anxious about the future.

When leaving, I also saw a lone man with a bloodied eye standing outside the venue with people seeming to help him. I was told by a TikTok user that this man was pushed against a metal gate by a security guard. I’m unsure of the true context, however, I can assume that this is related to the “pervert” accusations and the aggressive discrimination described by others. I assume that this man was standing up for himself, or attended the gig not knowing any songs (which is reasonable, I’ve been to concerts without knowing lyrics) and was therefore seen as having bad intentions. But, just a reminder, that is an assumption.

In a reply, Dan states that “the venue staff told [him] it was at the request of the touring party and it wasn’t their usual policy”, however, I struggle to believe that the management directly told The Engine Shed to call male fans “perverts”. No matter their excuses, once again, this is a flaw from the management of The Last Dinner Party. 

As a fan who spent money on the tickets, travel, and merch, I demand more outreach than a simple apology from the venue. We deserve to know what went wrong, and how we will be reconciled because of those mistakes. I love this band and don’t target any of my anger towards the members, but rescheduled shows cause timetabling issues, and now I’ve found myself worried about whether I will be able to attend.

We should not have to wait any longer than we already have.