In today's fast-paced live music scene—where the energy of youth often takes centre stage—a curious debate has emerged: When does the love for music risk being complicated by age?

Recently, at a gig headlined by The Last Dinner Party, an incident sparked fierce discussion. With a mostly teenage female audience in attendance, members of security approached a few older men, asking them what their favourite song was and why they were attending the show alone. Ostensibly, this precaution was meant to safeguard a vulnerable crowd, but many have argued that it was a clumsy, ageist measure that robbed these concert-goers of their right to enjoy an evening of pure, unadulterated music.

This incident raises important questions about the evolving demographics of live music shows. Traditionally, it’s common for people to grow out of the scene as they age—whether by personal choice or because the music itself carries memories of a bygone era. Yet, for many, attending live gigs is far more than mere nostalgia. It's a rejuvenating experience that reignites the spark of youth, a momentary escape from the passing years. But when a predominantly young audience creates an environment where older fans—whether in their 40’s, 50s, 60s, or beyond—might feel out of place, at what point does the celebration of live music become exclusionary?

The situation at The Last Dinner Party’s show is emblematic of a broader conundrum: Should there be an age limit at gigs or festivals when the core demographic is explosively young? On one side of the debate, some argue that younger audiences, particularly vulnerable groups like teenage girls, require extra layers of security and sensitivity. On the other side, many believe music is inherently democratic—a passion that should remain unbounded by age. After all, a live show has the power to awaken a long-dormant part of our soul, proving that the magic of music isn’t reserved solely for the young.

There is also a reflective side to consider. As we grow older, many of us might “outgrow” the club scene or raucous concerts, yet here we are, drawn back to the raw energy and spontaneity of live performances. They serve as a lifeline to the dying embers of our youth, a portal that allows us to momentarily recapture the joy and abandon we once knew. But in doing so, are we challenging the unwritten cultural codes that say live music should be the exclusive playground of the young?

How do you draw the line?

Should live music shows be defined exclusively by the passion of their youthful audience, or should every music lover—regardless of age—be free to experience the magic of the moment?
Is it fair for security personnel to single out older fans simply because they don’t “fit in” with the predominant demographic?
How do we balance the need for safety and the genuine inclusivity that music promises?

We invite you to join this debate. Share your thoughts on whether gigs, festivals, and live shows ought to have de facto (or even de jure) age limits, or if the joy of music is a universal right that must be preserved regardless of the calendar.

Have you ever felt judged or out of place at a concert because of your age? Or have you witnessed similar incidents? We want to know your perspective—let’s open up the floor for a thoughtful discussion on the intersection of age, culture, and the enduring power of live music.

Join the conversation in the comments below. What does "too old" mean to you in a world where the beat of a live show continues to appeal across generations?