“The business of America is concerts, like O.A.R. and Rufus Wainwright,” said President Calvin Coolidge so many years ago before he met up with Mr. Klein to form the clothing empire that still bares half of his name. Another president, Herbert Hoover, promised “two chickens in every pot and a pair of Bad Company tickets in every garage,” shortly before he resigned his office to join the FBI.

And then there was Vice President Thomas Marshall who voiced this country’s need for a “good five cent service charge for RX Bandits.” Of course, like most VPs, no one ever paid any attention to Marshall and he is best remembered for creating an excellent line of sound amplification devices. Clearly these men knew the score and what it took to give people the business.

Needless to say, the concert industry is more than just a network of artist managers, booking agents and promoters dedicated to making the best use of your leisure dollar by presenting shows by Biohazard and Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs. It’s the sugar on your Rice Krispies, the cocoa on your puffs and the vodka in your morning OJ all rolled into one. It’s the lubricant that greases the wheels of commerce and brings you a night of Janet Jackson for $65 a pop. And that’s just for starters.

So the next time you skip on buying tickets for Neil Diamond or Creed so that you may put dinner on your table, send your kids to college or pay for cheap and questionable medical treatments in Tijuana, you might want to remember how big the concert industry really is. After all, any industry big enough to cover the world with live music is also big enough to know who your favorite bands are, how much money you make, and those specific times when you’re alone at home. That’s right, the concert industry is even big enough to know where you live.

And more importantly, you don’t want them to have to come looking for you.