Vegas will always be Vegas. When taking the exit off I-15, one is met immediately with the kitschy grandiosity for which the city is known: audaciously themed casinos, bright LED screens advertising the latest residency, and of course, the 24-hour strip clubs and wedding chapels whose exteriors look as tired as their employees feel. What has always made Vegas “Vegas” is that not only is it a mirage in the middle of the Mojave, a hedonistic escape for bachelor parties and girls gone wild, but that it has glorified the spectacle, a rare city not asked to be self-effacing in its disconnect between luxury and the material reality of most Americans.
This, perhaps, makes Las Vegas the only logical home for its latest marvel.
September 29th saw the opening of a new type of cultural experience, both for Vegas and the music industry. MSG Sphere, a $2.3 billion dollar project, is an entertainment destination unlike any other. With its domed structure, capacity of 20,000, and its internal and external light displays covering 160,000 and 580,000 square feet, respectively, the venue is literally not to be missed. While Las Vegas begins to glow the moment day turns to dusk, Sphere shines, beckoning audiences and passersby as it transforms into spherical objects like an eye, an astronaut helmet, and above all, a living, breathing advertisement for the night’s performance.
The moment The Edge picked up his guitar on stage, the walls of Sphere came crumbling down. This is hardly an exaggeration, as the LED screens that make up the venue walls turned from a believable projection of concrete and stone to TV static, the members of U2 suddenly larger than life and all-encompassing, deifying the band in a way regular concert screens never before could. What followed were hours of visuals nothing short of jaw-dropping, mesmerizing, and at times, terrifying, as the illusory ceiling came pushing down, imaginary fire burned all around, and the venue became swallowed by its immersive art. If the hypnotizing quality of the screens were not enough, the sound as it reverberated through Sphere was unparalleled. Boasting “the world’s largest beamforming audio system,” Sphere’s speakers made the music palpable, turning an auditory experience into a tactile one. To quote the guy behind me who kept kicking my chair, “Oh my fucking god, oh my fucking god, holy shit.”
The overwhelming experience of attending a concert at Sphere could only be mediated by the straightforward performance from U2. Sphere, while a marvel of science, is not a venue where one seeks to commune with the music. Though the immersive experience is impressive, Sphere’s sonically driven visuals overwhelm the ability to truly hear U2’s work. In fact, U2’s decision to perform the entirety of Achtung Baby at Sphere is odd considering the impersonal and stark nature of such a venue. This might be why, in between playing the two sides to the album, U2 chooses to cut the act, so to speak, and opted to perform a short set in the middle sans visuals. It was during this period that U2 finally connected with the audience, the emotionality of the songs not only heard, but felt.
With Sphere’s sleek surfaces, blue and pink neon lighting, and lack of sharp corners and edges, entering feels like beaming up to a spacecraft destined for another world. It’s hard not to look around and wonder if this is the direction the entertainment industry is going, the MSG-backed venue and its $1,450 tickets a far cry from the grit and authenticity of its independent counterparts struggling to keep their doors open across the country. If this is the future of music, it won’t be for everyone. In fact, it begs the question: Can spectacle and artistic integrity coexist? Can the overwhelming visuals support a real emotional connection? Because this time, with the introduction of Sphere and the onset of a new industry standard, what happened in Vegas will not stay in Vegas.
This content was originally published here.
