Ever since Proximo booked Maximus into the Roman Coliseum man has tried to pin an animal metaphor on the business responsible for bringing Cher to cities like Valley Center, Kansas, or Moline, Illinois. Does it float like butterfly and Sting like a bee? Is it mammal, fish, bird or Republican? Does it bare its own young live or lay eggs? And if the latter, does it use its own nest or anyplace that’s convenient?

During the first half of the 20th century, most people described the collective group of men and women who planned, routed and executed tours for such acts like Phish, Aerosmith and Bob Mould as ferocious animals of the desert. Browse through any schoolbook published before the 60s and one is likely to see the industry portrayed as a wily four legged member of the genus known as Eatibus Anythingus obsessed with trapping the elusive fowl-like music fan depicted as the Hot-roddicus Supersonicus.

But after the concert rights movement of the 1960s it became apparent that the live music industry must rely on more than fast feet and an occasional anvil or rocket launcher from the folks at ACME Inc. Other metaphors arose, such as images of cornpone-talking roosters and fanatical chicken hawks squabbling over the rights to present shows by Counting Crows and Nelly. And who can ever forget the feline portrayal of an early promoter sneaking up on a potential ticket buyer only to be greeted by those immortal words, “I tawt I taw a Faster Puddycat?”

Yes, the concert industry has been portrayed as many animals, from wisecracking carrot-chomping rabbits to silly aquatic fowl that can only be described as daffy ducks. But no matter what the depiction, whether it’s a demonic-like tornado of a predator found only in Tasmania, or a frog from the Great Lakes State belting out Broadway show tunes, the modern audience can rest assured that the professionals that sold you the ticket for The Gabe Dixon Band or The Disco Biscuits are much more than simple animalistic caricatures dedicated to bringing you the latest in looney tunes.

Instead, you might want to picture them as purveyors of merry melodies.