Like millions of fans around the world, I was ecstatic when Beyoncé announced her highly anticipated Cowboy Carter tour. The promise of her unique blend of country, pop, and soul — paired with her usual jaw-dropping visuals — was enough to make me shell out nearly $700 for a decent seat. I thought I was about to witness a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Instead, I walked out feeling confused, disappointed, and honestly… a little scammed.

Let me be clear: I’ve been a Beyoncé fan for over a decade. I danced through the Sasha Fierce era, sang my heart out during Lemonade, and was awestruck by Renaissance. So attending Cowboy Carter wasn’t just another concert — it was a personal event, something I’d been counting down to for months. But from the moment the show began, something felt off.

First of all, the stage design — usually a Beyoncé trademark — was shockingly minimal. Gone were the massive LED screens, hydraulic lifts, and futuristic sets from her Renaissance tour. In their place? A few rustic props, some hay bales, and dim lighting that made it hard to even see her from where I was sitting. For the price I paid, I expected a spectacle. Instead, it looked like a glorified rehearsal.

Then there was the setlist. While I admire Beyoncé’s artistic evolution, the majority of the show was focused on Cowboy Carter, an album that, let’s face it, still has a mixed reception. Many fans around me didn’t seem to recognize the songs — or care. At least half the crowd sat down during extended country ballads and experimental interludes. There was no “Crazy In Love.” No “Run the World.” Even “Halo” was completely missing.

What was more frustrating was the lack of fan engagement. Beyoncé barely spoke to the crowd all night. No stories, no heartfelt moments, no connection. She sang — beautifully, as always — but felt emotionally distant. At one point, someone near me yelled “We love you, B!” and she didn’t even glance in our direction.

Let’s also talk about the sound quality. The bass was muddy, her vocals were oddly low in the mix, and the acoustics in the venue made it hard to make out what she was saying. A woman in the row behind me muttered, “Is this a soundcheck or the real thing?” halfway through the show.

And don’t even get me started on merchandise. T-shirts started at $75, hoodies were $150, and most of it was already sold out by the time we got to the stand — 45 minutes before the show even started.

I left feeling completely underwhelmed and more than a little ripped off. This wasn’t the Beyoncé I knew — the perfectionist, the show-stopper, the woman who set the bar for live performances. This was something else entirely: an underdeveloped concept turned into a premium-priced experience with minimal payoff.

Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I should’ve read the reviews more closely. Or maybe — just maybe — this tour is more about pushing a narrative than giving fans what they came for: an unforgettable show.

For $700, I expected to be blown away. Instead, I felt like I paid for a front-row seat to a creative experiment that wasn’t ready for the big stage.

Beyoncé is still a queen. Her talent is undeniable. But if this tour taught me anything, it’s that even royalty can miss the mark — and when they do, it’s the loyal fans who pay the price.

And yes, I really do want my $700 back.