Ella Kelso, junior psychology major from North Carolina, drove 160 miles with a group of friends to Globe Life Field in Arlington last month for a Bruno Mars concert. The ticket price: $300 each.

“It was 100% worth it,” Kelso said. “Bruno Mars is such an icon.”

Likewise, Emma Santoro, sophomore kinesiology major from Fort Worth, went to a Ty Myers concert in Abilene. She paid $30 for the concert.

“If I were Ty, I would’ve charged more because of how famous he is,” Santoro said. “But we don’t have to tell him that.”

Despite the $270 difference, both described nearly identical experiences.

“I took videos of all my favorite songs,” Santoro said. “And pictures for Instagram too.”

Kelso echoed those statements and said her experience would have been different without her phone.

“I love taking videos and pictures throughout the concert,” Kelso said. “Of me and my friends, to post and to send it to my family.”

For many ACU students, going to a concert is not just a night out. Because Abilene is not exactly on every artist’s tour schedule, attending a concert often turns into a mini vacation. Road trips, outfit planning and a quick moment of financial regret after buying the ticket.

But for many, it is worth it, and the price is part of the experience.

And whether in DFW, Abilene or elsewhere, as soon as the lights go down, the entire crowd reacts the same.

Phones go up.

Screens glow.

And suddenly, hundreds of people are watching the same concert, through their own devices.

But sometimes, the best moments happen when the screen goes dark.

Bill Horn, professor of language and literature, said he has noticed a shift over decades of attending concerts.

“People are watching the concert through the phone,” Horn said, lifting his hands in front of his face, mimicking someone holding a phone. “That’s the problem.”

Horn grew up going to concerts before smartphones existed. Back then, the audience interacted differently.

“We hold up lighters to let them know we wanted an encore,” Horn said, smiling at the memory. “The whole arena lit up with real fire.”

With lighters being replaced by phone flashlights, Horn said those moments look different now.

But some traditions remain. A few years ago, Horn took his daughters to a concert in Austin. Before they even found their seats, he passed down advice from his own concert-going experience.

“First thing you do, go straight to the T-shirt table,” Horn said. “Because if you don’t, the shirt you want might be gone.”

He laughed, describing it as a rule learned the hard way.

His merchandise strategy might not have changed, but Horn said the overall experience has.

Instead of focusing on the stage, many focus on capturing it, adjusting angles, zooming in and making sure the video turns out right.

“People are trying so hard to capture the moment that they’re actually missing the moment,” Horn said.

He said the shift is not just cultural, but economic.

“Concerts used to be $15,” Horn said. “They made their money from selling records.”

He said he saw KISS live in Abilene for that price, shaking his head slightly as if he still could not believe it.

“Now concerts are where the money is,” Horn said. “Streaming changed everything.”

As prices go up, so does the pressure to make the experience feel worth it, and for many students, that means documenting it.

Santoro followed that pattern until her phone died halfway through the concert. But instead of that ruining the night, she said, it changed it.

“It felt nice not having to hold back from singing,” Santoro said. “Just getting to enjoy whatever he was playing at the time.”

Without her phone, one moment stood out more clearly.

“[Ty Myers] played the electric guitar backwards behind his back,” Santoro said.  “This is something you can’t experience when you listen to his songs on your phone.”

For Horn, those kinds of moments used to define concerts.

“You knew it was a unique experience,” Horn said. “There was excitement before, during and after.”

And after, he added, was just as important.

“You’d be talking about it with your friends,” he said. “Reliving it. That was part of it.”

Now, the next day often looks different.

Instead of conversations, there is scrolling.

Clips fill social media feeds. The same songs, the same stage, slightly different angles.

And most of those videos are rarely watched again.

Santoro said going through them can feel strange.

“Seeing all the videos makes me sad, because it’s over,” Santoro said.” But I do get excited when pictures turn out good, so I can drop a fire post.”

The mini vacation ends.

The posts go up.

And the concert, somewhere between the stage and the screen, becomes something you experienced.

But mostly something you recorded.