Time froze when Beyoncé dropped the Instagram post announcing her upcoming Renaissance world tour dates. I was expecting the news – the Beyoncé hashtag I follow on Twitter was brewing with speculation, and her fans, the Beyhive, are more coordinated and well-informed than the CIA. However, I still felt unprepared and panicked. Post-pandemic, attempting to grab tickets for shows and events is an event in itself, and getting Beyoncé tickets felt like a virtual Takeshi’s Castle. So I mobilised my friends in the group chat, imploring them to focus – this was no time for slow replies or ghosting, and leaving the convo was only allowed under the most extreme of circumstances. For many, the pent-up angst of the Covid era has meant that we are all desperately seeking to live life to the fullest. FOMO is stronger than ever, as is our desire to capture every moment on camera and burn every funny thing that happens into our brains so the in-jokes can go on for years. We didn’t secure tickets for the early release but knew more were coming, so we tried our luck with the next release date. We all signed up for the pre-release and held our breaths when 10am arrived, and our individual queue numbers were revealed. There were 52,000 people in front of me on my laptop, 45,000 in front of me on my iPhone and, by some act of divine intervention, 10,000 people in front of me on my Android. Yes, I attempted it on every device in my home. My friends were way behind, so it fell on me to ensure that I secured the tickets, which I did, falling to my knees when the confirmation email arrived. This will be my first Beyoncé concert (I know, I’m a fraud) – and I am completely beside myself. Having watched her live performances online and practically memorised every transition from her 2018 Coachella set (AKA Beychella), I know this will be a life-changing experience. To be baptised in the stadium lights of a Beyoncé concert feels like a true rite of passage into the cult of Bey. This fervour around Beyoncé got me thinking about our obsession with colossal stadium tours and their importance to music, culture, and politics. These huge tours help cement artists, elevating them to legendary status, while also pushing boundaries through creative performance that engages all the senses. Just over 50 years ago, The Beatles arguably birthed the culture of stadium tours as we know it. “There’s no doubt that The Beatles and Brian Epstein ushered in the modern, large concert we are all accustomed to today,” author Chuck Gunderson told Esquire back in 2014. In case you’re unfamiliar: Epstein, the band’s manager, sought to build demand for the group by turning down huge venues and filling out smaller ones (albeit ones which still held thousands of fans). This eventually led to offers to play in huge arenas and stadiums, and the extreme demand led to advances in live performance tech. Years later, the stadium tour would become a staple for artists, and give way to a new, immersive experience for music lovers. Moments from stadium tours live on for ever in history and art; Madonna was credited with creating “the modern pop concert experience” and made history with her masturbation moment on her 1990 Blond Ambition world tour. It was before my time, but even I know the stories of how the shows drew outrage – notably from the Vatican, who labelled it “blasphemous”. Artists like Janet Jackson curated entire theatrical performances with their shows, and her seductive brand of audience participation has been recreated by artists like Britney Spears and Teyana Taylor. By creating historic moments and kickstarting cultural conversations, stadium tours have become big business – and events that fans such as myself see as invaluable moments we must be a part of at any cost. Who knows what visual feast Beyoncé will serve up at her show, but my excitement cannot be contained. Until then, though, I’ll have to make do with the next best thing to being in the stadium: watching her previous tours on YouTube. Chanté Joseph is host of the Guardian podcast Pop Culture with Chanté, available here with new episodes dropping weekly If you want to read the complete version of this newsletter, please subscribe to receive The Guide in your inbox every Friday