The request by South Oxfordshire art-pop diva Kate Bush for fans at her shows to keep their phones in their pockets was widely welcomed by gig-goers.

The enigmatic star was respected all round for her stance on people filming or photographing her performances at her London comeback shows on mobiles and tablets.

She insisted that playing to a forest of glowing devices – rather than faces – made it harder to connect with the audience.

“I very much want to have contact with you as an audience, not with iPhones, iPads or cameras,” she said in a statement on her website. “I know it’s a lot to ask but it would allow us to all share in the experience together.”

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Part of her reasoning is that by watching shaky poor-quality footage on YouTube, fans would be cheated out of the element of surprise at her opulent shows. But the bold move also hints at the frustration felt by many artists at fans watching their performances one-step removed, on tiny screens. It’s as if we can’t experience anything real without owning it in some way – even if it’s just an unwatchable video – audio drowned out by the surrounding audience.

Bush is not alone in taking such a stand. The Who, Beyonce and Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker have also urged audiences to refrain from recording – mod icon Roger Daltrey even said he felt sorry for fans trying to watch his gigs on a screen the size of a fag packet.

But if phone-wielding fans are annoying for artists, they are a curse to other members of the audience, who find their view of the stage blocked by outstretched arms.

The only things worse are having your view blocked by those inane flags you get at festivals (Cropredy is particularly bad, while Reading went as far as banning them), being obstructed by some sap in oversized headgear (native American headdress are the worst offenders) or finding yourself staring into the buttocks of some arm-waving girl astride her hapless boyfriend’s shoulders. Get down!

The only thing to be said in defence of the phone botherers is that at least they are paying attention. Ask any musician for their pet hate at gigs and it’s likely they’ll spit venom at those people who stand around talking during gigs.

I recall one show at the O2 Academy Oxford where a singer-songwriter actually stopped mid-song to berate the crowd for chatting loudly during his show.

Mid-gig banter is surely the height of rudeness – up there with throwing drinks (or other unsavoury liquids). But it’s also the height of stupidity.

What kind of fool shells out hard-earned cash for a ticket to see someone they admire, only to drown them out by the sound of your own voice. Save it for the pub, guys.

And as for those phones – just try living in the moment; the memories are likely to be with you forever. The chances are someone else will have shared a much better recording anyway.

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