The glare of cellphones is obliterating the live concert experience

It happens at every show. As soon as the band or artist appears on stage, audience members reach for their cellphones in unison to record the first song. What should be a powerful collective moment focused on the music is lost in a sea of cellphones. At concerts and clubs, cellphones used to be a minor annoyance, with people snapping the odd photo to capture the moment. But the annoyance has become a scourge. It's all too common to see people holding up their phones – blocking the view of people behind them – and recording an entire set. Sometimes they livestream it on social media or share their stream with a friend via video chat. At clubs, people snap selfies or record clips of the DJs or dance floor. The culprits are brazen and unapologetic. Other concertgoers and clubbers are often annoyed – but then they wonder, should they record the moment too? The trend is degrading the experience of listening to live music. Concertgoers, musicians and venues need to find ways to break the spell of cellphones by eliminating or limiting their use at events. In a fragmented world, where mass broadcasting has been eclipsed by social-media algorithms and time-shifting streaming platforms, concerts are a rare event where a group of people are together in the same space, sharing the same experience. Perhaps that's why they can be uncomfortable for so many. People seek the familiar reassurance of being on their phones, which have become their lifeline and connection to the world, even in the midst of real experiences. People have gotten in the habit of recording anything with any emotional resonance or the smallest novelty – an unusual dish at a restaurant, or a beautiful site on their travels. It's a way of capturing the moment in their personal archives so they can remember it, and boast about it on social media. A quick photograph at a concert is not a big deal, as it only creates a momentary distraction. But recording entire songs or sets takes things too far. It degrades the experience for concertgoers for little gain, as it results in wobbly, poor quality video that is unlikely to ever be watched. It's tempting to blame younger generations, but they aren't the only culprits. Older people are also quick to whip out their cellphones, in search of validation from their Facebook friends. Instead of enjoying life's sweet moments, people are getting bogged down in documenting and broadcasting them. We are stopping to smell the roses, but instead of breathing deeply, we are using them as a backdrop for a selfie. Many attendees at the recent Jack White show at the RBC Amphitheatre in Toronto found the experience refreshing. Fans had to put their phones, smart watches and smart glasses into pouches made by a company called Yondr. The patrons keep the pouches, but they are locked during the event. If attendees wanted to access their phones, they could go to designated phone use areas in the venue. Many comedians, as well as artists such as Bob Dylan, Madonna and Paul McCartney, have used Yondr pouches to prevent unauthorized recordings and distractions at their shows. After the Jack White concert, many fans raved about the experience. The crowd was more engaged and more connected to the performers, they said. People felt more present and there were less disruptions. Some people fretted about their inability to be reached in case of an emergency, or what would happen if there was an emergency on site, but most found that life went on despite their anxieties. The cellphone pouches are a good approach, particularly for big-name artists who have clout and aren't in need of social-media exposure. There are some practical considerations, such as the additional staff and entry time needed to get people's phones into the pouches, but it's effective and provides options for people who want to leave the show briefly to check their phones. Other models have taken root in privacy-conscious Berlin, where bans on using cellphone cameras in bars and clubs have been standard for years. Many venues put stickers over their patrons' cellphone cameras, so people can access their phones but not take photos or record video. In Berlin's bars, it's common to see signs warning people not to take photos, and staff aren't shy about enforcing the rule. Rather than acting as a drag on nightlife, these rules have been a catalyst for creating a world-famous environment where people can let their guard down. In Toronto, a new club called Complex19 has a no-camera policy, billing itself as a safe space for queer people to act without inhibition. Some other one-off parties in Toronto have banned camera phones, and a company called Before the Internet helps event organizers go device-free. More venues and events should follow their lead and ban or limit cellphone use. Even if the trend doesn't become mainstream – device rules at restaurants and cafes grab headlines, yet haven't been widely adopted – attending 'analogue' events can enrich our lives, providing respite from the online world. This is important, given that heavy social-media use has been linked to depression, anxiety and loneliness. Some artists have found creative ways to make keepsakes for fans who don't have access to their cellphone cameras. At a Fred Again concert in London earlier this year, black stickers placed over camera phones included the show's location and date. Professional photographers captured the concert, and the images were made available for fans to download after the show. These souvenirs can help fans remember and share their experiences. Regardless of a venue's rules, fans should make an effort to keep their phone use to a minimum. Instead of staring at their screens, they should focus on the moment and be present. Not only does this make the experience more pleasant for other concertgoers, but it will improve their own experience. Instead of seeking validation from people on the internet, fans will tune in to the emotions in the crowd and on stage. By focusing on the music and being fully present, fans won't need a video to remember the experience.