To put it bluntly, it appears that people are having sex at concerts.

Don’t get us wrong. We’re no saints ourselves. We understand how a good show, such as ZZ Top or Wayne Newton, can give rise to feelings not normally felt outside the privacy of one’s home. However, there’s a time and a place for amour, and it’s not while Eve 6, Counting Crows and Dismemberment Plan pound the stages of the land bringing great music at a reasonable price to the masses.

Just think of it. How would you feel if you were Richie Sambora of Bon Jovi cranking out complex riffs on your ax, or if you were Bruce Springsteen singing poignantly spiritual lyrics of hope and salvation only to look out into the audience and see people groping and grabbing for each other while you practice the artistry of your music?

What’s more, consider the promoter’s feelings. They work their fingers to the bones inking deals to bring The Human League, Adema and Glenn Tilbrook to your town. Trust us on this. Promoters are upright, moral citizens and they do not want to see naked, nubile bodies doing things to each other that are probably illegal in most of the fifty states. Or very well should be.

This has got to stop right now, people! Exert power over your passions, leash that lust and control those cravings for physical pleasure and bodacious bodily bumping. The White Stripes and The Wallflowers have worked hard over the years perfecting their craft, and they don’t want to see you and your mate (or mates) engaged in prurient displays of lascivious hormonal gratification. Put a lid on your libido, take a cold shower, think of David Lee Roth, and do something, anything that will keep your mind out of the gutter and your attention on the performance taking place on stage. Ben Harper, Leo Kottke and Nickelback are not there to provide the backbeat for your concupiscent couplings.

After all, that’s what support acts are for.