A few weeks ago it seemed like the perfect Christmas present from the stepmother that never really loved you, but late last week it was announced that selfie sticks have been banished from a string of UK venues.
The narcissticks, as I think we should call them from now on, have been banned from venues including Wembley Arena, and the Mecca of all of life's wonder, The O2.
"The O2 do not allow selfie sticks into the arena due to safety considerations and so as not to impact the view of other fans. We welcome selfies, but leave the stick at home please," a spokesperson for Britain's largest venue told Billboard, unaware it's somewhat ironic that a venue that is named after a mobile network and has a number of phone shops inside has banned a phone accessory.
Obviously the denigration of the gig going experience has been going on in the mind of 6 Music listeners ever since people started using their phones to register their enjoyment of live music to their loved ones. I can certainly see their point - people who bring outside photography equipment so they can better frame the great time with all their mates might be more concerned with social-media bragging then live music. But then again, having been at some pretty lacklustre backing-track based performances at big venues of late, I'm sure there are plenty of artists who aren't that bothered about "the live experience" either.
For a long time, official gig photographers have only been able to take photos for the first three songs of a performance. I believe the answer to these problems could be solved in a similar manner. An artist comes out, strikes a few poses - gives everyone a chance for pictures. There's then a five minute break to allow for Instagramming and hilarious captions (such as "They're all here to see me!" or "Can't believe I'm missing The One Show for this.") and the show then begins in earnest with phones stowed safely in pockets for the remainder. From then you are only allowed to get your phone out if someone is pulled up on stage, a la Courtney Cox and Bruce Springsteen, and you are actually mates with them (reciprocal birthday party invites or higher) or the artist in question goes on an anti-capitalist/anti-industry/racist/sexist/mentally-disturbed rant and you think you might make £50 selling the video to Gawker.