I’ve been mulling over something that came up in discussions about Metallica’s Melbourne show last Friday, and it’s got me thinking about what’s happened to live music crowds – or maybe what’s happened to us.

First off, let me say this: Metallica delivered. Of course they did. You don’t become one of the biggest metal bands in history by phoning it in. The production was spectacular, the setlist was solid (even if some folks were hoping for Fade To Black), and watching them tear through their catalogue was everything you’d expect from a band that’s been doing this for four decades. One person mentioned getting emotional when The Ecstasy Of Gold started, and honestly, I get it. There’s something about those iconic moments that hit differently when you’re actually there.

Last night’s incident outside Rod Laver Arena during the Billie Eilish concert has left me fuming. Two grown men thought it would be hilarious to intimidate a 10-year-old girl, shoving a phone in her face and demanding she name Chicago Bulls players because she was wearing the team’s merchandise. This isn’t content creation - it’s harassment, plain and simple.

The digital age has transformed our relationship with public spaces. Every moment seems to be fair game for someone’s social media feed, turning casual outings into potential content without consent. What’s particularly disturbing is how these self-proclaimed content creators specifically target those who seem vulnerable - young girls at a concert, people working out at gyms, or anyone they think might give them the reaction they’re hunting for.

The recent African Music & Cultural Festival at Federation Square brought something unexpectedly heartwarming to my social media feed this weekend. Between the vibrant performances and mouth-watering food stalls, a few Victoria Police officers were spotted joining in the festivities, dancing and engaging with festival-goers in a way that sparked both joy and debate online.

Standing in stark contrast to the often-tense relationship between law enforcement and diverse communities, these moments of genuine human connection struck me as particularly significant. The sight of uniformed officers letting their guard down, swaying to African beats, and sharing laughs with festival attendees painted a picture of what community policing could and should be.