I am seated in a tiny boardroom at Facebook's offices in Sydney's CBD, but I'm also in the bleachers at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre just outside Denver, Colorado.

Inches away, so close I could pick his back pocket, is Melbourne singer Vance Joy, performing onstage to real-life, warm-blooded, ticket-buying fans. All around me, though, are fans of a different kind, the chattering voices of animated heads.

A goateed avatar to my left asks how I'm doing. "Oh, you're on mute," he adds, after a few awkward seconds of silence, and promptly disappears. With the press of a button, I switch seats too, accidentally ending up in the nosebleeds. Spanish and Japanese accents ring around me; an American makes a quip about the gig's beer prices.

This is Oculus Venues, the new venture for the company's virtual reality equipment Oculus Go and Samsung's Gear VR. It's part of the company's plan to shift VR away from its gaming focus to a more casual and social use, a Facebook employee tells me, and an attempt to bring the "sounds, lights and energy" of live events to livestream viewing.

The idea is to "feel" present with other people in a virtual room – not necessarily people you know, or your own Facebook friends, but just others. A communal experience salvaged from the desolation of the online space. Admirable or foolhardy? Well, at least I don't stink of someone else's spilled beer.