How exorbitant ticket prices are impacting K-pop fandom
Are concerts really that much more expensive to produce, and why is the buck, so to speak, being passed onto fans?
Rising ticket costs are affecting K-pop fans and concert culture as a whole.
Graphic by Ryan Quan
Words by Kayti Burt
Under capitalism, parts of music fandom will always be a competitive experience. But, in the era of worsening wealth inequality, dynamic pricing, and fandom as identity in the United States, concertgoing in particular has begun to feel like a blood sport in which, even when you “win,” the literal price you paid can make it feel like you lost.
This vibe shift is not specific to K-pop acts or K-pop fandom. The live event ticketing system in the United States—which may or may not be a monopoly, depending on whom you ask—is designed to squeeze out every last penny (R.I.P.), and then some, from consumers across industries and tax brackets. However, for a music culture like K-pop, where fandom is baked into the business model and experience, the shift can be particularly jarring.
“Concerts are one of the most powerful sites where K-pop fans make their fandom real to themselves and to each other,” says Sam James. An assistant professor of communication at Auburn University who studies K-pop fandom as a transnational, digitally networked community, she took time to speak with JoySauce about how fans mobilize across platforms and in offline spaces. “Because so much of K-pop fan culture happens online, concerts act as a material performance for their emotional investment, digital labor, and fan identities to come together effectively.”
James is currently working on a project about K-pop concerts as a form of “place-making,” a participatory process for shaping public space. “Fans use symbols like lightsticks, fan chants, and coordinated outfits to affirm belonging and negotiate identity within these fannish spaces, as well as create those spaces in broader culture,” says James. “Concerts are not just about seeing the artist; they're about seeing each other, performing fandom collectively, and temporarily creating a space where passion is normalized rather than questioned.”
There have always been limitations on who gets to attend pop concerts. Because I grew up in a working class, rural family, I didn’t go to my first pop music concert until well into adulthood. Some fans live in countries or continents that K-pop tours have never once touched foot in. A fan who isn’t able to take part in concert culture is not less of a fan because of it, but it does mean they don’t have the chance to participate in this potentially place-making part of K-pop fandom.
Are concert tickets really more expensive?
Yes, at least in part because everything is more expensive. Inflation surged between 2021 and 2023 and hasn’t totally settled. The U.S. inflation rate was at 2.4 percent over the last year—slightly higher than the two percent rate the central bank aims for. K-pop concerts, which are known for spectacle, cost a lot to produce. Venue rental fees, labor, and other production costs have gone up along with everything else, resulting in higher ticket prices for fans.
Andrew McMahon, frontman of Something Corporate, broke down the average ticket cost from a musician’s perspective in an excellent CBS Mornings piece from early 2025. While the band sets the initial price, half of their potential profits will be deducted for venue-related show costs. Then, two-thirds of the remaining profits will go toward management and travel and crew costs. The additional fees added onto a ticket price (usually by the ticket distribution company) do not go to the musician. In his example, off of a $70 concert ticket, the band will get about $10 to split five ways between them. As summed up by the CBS Mornings segment’s producers, every dollar of a concert ticket price is fought over by artists, venues, ticket companies, and scalpers. The buck, as it were, is usually passed onto the fan.
“It’s fairly typical for these big tours at this point to find tickets in the $1,000s, $2,000, etc., especially for those really valuable seats,” Billboard editor Taylor Mims said in a recent conversation with Vox about how concert experiences are turning into luxury goods. “It’s been slowly going up over the years, but it really became normal following the Covid-19 pandemic. Concerts were so in demand, still are in demand, and people really want to be there. They will pay good money to have a good seat at a good concert.”
But the demand isn’t always there, especially for smaller or even medium-sized acts. The United States is seen as a place where pop musicians can make a lot of money, but many K-pop shows have been canceled in the past few years, often due to low ticket sales. In a K-shaped economy where the top 10 percent of earners are responsible for nearly 50 percent of the spending, most Americans can’t afford a few hundred dollars on a concert ticket—or, if they can, they are going to save it for their “ult” group. If they can’t, they may just purchase an expensive ticket anyway. According to a 2025 Billboard Pro article, approximately 60 percent of Coachella attendees purchased their tickets through “Buy Now, Pay Later” services. It’s easier than ever to go into debt for a concert experience that you really can’t afford.
Mathieu Berbiguier is a visiting assistant professor in Korean Studies at Carnegie Mellon University who researches the power dynamics within K-pop fan communities. Talking to JoySauce about the current state of K-pop concert culture, he points out that, when fans have the conversation on rising prices, we are often looking at the most expensive tickets. He posits that the greatest price surges have been in the “VIP experience” category, which might involve a closer seat, sound check, or even a meet and greet with the artist, reminding me of the recent news that major K-pop company HYBE is developing a “new experience model based on scarcity.” “Entertainment companies take advantage of (this demand for more intimate experiences with the idols) and gouge the prices because they know that those tickets will sell out first,” Berbiguier says.
Scarcity sells. James notes that, while there are more K-pop acts than ever touring in the United States, in some cases, fans can still have a scarcity mindset. “The ‘FOMO’ of it all is intensified by the fear that this kind of show from this artist might never happen again, whether or not that's the case,” she says. “Add to that the inflation surrounding concert venues when they're booked, and fans aren't able to go to multiple tour stops the way they might've in the past. While high prices don’t push people out of the fandom entirely, they do push them out of certain modes of participation. The cost intensifies in-fandom hierarchies that already existed around things like VIP perks or hi‑touch events.”
Competitive consumption over creative community
So how does this impact all of us as fans? In some activities, like concertgoing, it can encourage fandom hierarchies that don’t always feel great and can take away from the experience you paid for. “Even by paying, for example, the price for the most expensive tickets, there is actually no guarantee of getting what is promised,” says Berbiguier. “I remember going to NCT 127’s show in Newark with a VIP1 ticket and having to ‘compete’ with the other people of the same tier to get to talk to the members during the send-off. I remember not enjoying at all this feeling of competition, and the experience in itself was very disturbing.”
When a consumer experience costs a good chunk of money, it can increase the pressure for that purchase to have been “worth it.” For some fans, this might just mean letting loose and having a good time or getting aesthetic shots for social media. For others, it may lead to feelings of entitlement that have them prioritizing their own experience at the expense of the experiences of fellow fans. When fandom becomes a competition rather than a community, we lose something in the transition.
As James points out, there is so much more to the K-pop fan experience than concerts. “I think it’s important to note that K-pop fandom exists in the same hybrid space that we do in our daily lives,” she says. “So much of what influences our experiences of the world is what we see on social media. Fans are expert planners and co-consumers of their fannish object, in this case K-pop. So whether that’s through digital watch parties, cup sleeve events, streaming goals, fan-made merchandise sharing, or underground economies, fandom has always been about creativity and connection, not just consumption. I would like K-pop companies and ticket hosting platforms to realize that watching the show is only part of the fan experience.”
Published on March 2, 2026
Words by Kayti Burt
Kayti Burt (she/her) is a pop culture journalist based in Worcester, Massachusetts. Her areas of expertise include Korean entertainment and fan culture. She is a member of the Television Critics Association and the Freelance Solidarity Project. Find her on BlueSky @kaytiburt.bsky.social.
Art by Ryan Quan
Ryan Quan is JoySauce's social media manager, associate editor, and all-around visual eye. This queer, half-Chinese, half-Filipino writer and graphic designer loves everything related to music, creative nonfiction, and art. Based in Brooklyn, he spends most of his time dancing to hyperpop and accidentally falling asleep on the subway. Follow him on Instagram at @ryanquans, and check out his work on his website.