Snoop Dogg.

Yes. The business model already exists, even though most "hologram concerts" are not holograms. I saw the turning point myself. Coachella, April 15, 2012. Tupac (the rapper, shot dead in 1996) walked on stage next to Snoop Dogg (rapper, his friend and label mate), nearly 16 years after his death. The technology was Pepper's Ghost, a stage trick from the 1800s. The emotion was brand new. I saw grown men cry. ABBA Voyage proved the economics with living artists. In 2024 it sold 1.06 million tickets and generated $139.4 million in turnover. Pophouse (the Swedish music-rights company behind ABBA Voyage) takes KISS to a purpose-built Las Vegas theater in 2028. That changes entertainment. Artists no longer have to tour. A younger avatar of the artist performs every night. For dead stars, estates can turn music, image and likeness rights into a new show. My forecast: at least 10 permanent ABBA-style avatar residencies worldwide by 2030, $1 billion a year in tickets. Some feature living artists. Others resurrect artists who are gone. Artists are becoming software franchises. They do not get jet lag. What could change this: likeness laws, estates refusing permission, and fans deciding a dead star on stage is creepy, not magical. Coachella says they buy the ticket and cry anyway.

By 2030, on my call. SKIMS sits at roughly $5 billion, Ryan Reynolds turned Mint Mobile and Aviation Gin into 9-figure exits, Snoop Dogg's Dr. Bombay built national retail distribution. By 2035 more than half of all endorsement deals include equity. Fame is no longer rented. It is capitalized.