Hear that? It's the sound of live music dying for local Australian artists

Sydney Morning Herald

30-04-2025

While it's tempting to assume Australians have fallen out of love with live music, that theory falls apart when you look at the masses packing stadiums for Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, etc. The passion hasn't disappeared but instead has shifted. With rising living costs and post-COVID lifestyles, most people prefer to spend on one big, familiar show rather than take a chance on something new at their local venue. Even as a regular supporter of local live music, I'm still struck by how little attention it gets – despite the extraordinary talent emerging across the country. I don't blame audiences for gravitating towards what they know, but it's worth asking what impact these choices have.
This week we heard Bluesfest, Lost Paradise, Yours and Owls, Listen Out and Field Day will be receiving up to $500,000 each in emergency funding from the NSW government, with Labor's expanded Revive Live pledge granting other festivals across the country $100,000 or less each, but they need more than that in expensive ticket sales if they're going to make back the $3.9 million it costs, on average, to host one.
Costs global conglomerates like Live Nation – with festivals including Spilt Milk and iconic music venues across the country including Melbourne's Palais Theatre in its portfolio – and TEG, which owns festivals including Laneway and venues including Sydney's Qudos Bank Arena, can theoretically afford to pay up front. After all, they're parachuting in international headliners like Post Malone, Stormzy and Charli XCX for (usually exclusive) appearances, guaranteeing fans will pay exorbitant ticket prices.
So maybe the real question is, if the appetite for live music is still there, how do we redirect even a fraction of that attention back to our own talent? One way this used to happen was through international acts having to select local openers, but now that's optional and rarely the case.
More often than not, when I've missed out on a touring opportunity, the support slot has been filled by an artist flown in from overseas or one backed by a major label team. Another suggestion often thrown at smaller artists is to focus on social media, as it's now seen as the new pathway to success.
And while platforms like TikTok have helped artists connect with listeners beyond their local scenes, I don't think they've replaced the need for real-world opportunities – but instead only reinforced existing inequalities. Big artists have the marketing budgets to dominate the digital conversation. TikTok is strategically flooded by global players with concert clips that only help create FOMO, driving up demand and ticket sales – helping the biggest names grow even bigger.
Meanwhile, smaller artists struggle to cut through the social media noise, and the pressure to go viral often shifts the focus away from the music itself and onto creating content just to stay visible. And, if they do go viral and then get played on the radio, outdated royalty caps mean they don't get much money from featuring on the airwaves.
I don't believe there is a singular villain here, but instead a conversation to be had about the growing gap between the support we give international names versus how to better support our own.
If we don't back the artists right in front of us, we risk losing the very live scene those stadium shows were built on. When I think back to that touring offer I was given, that left me torn between financial survival and artistic opportunity, I realise it was never just about myself as an artist but instead reflected a bigger story. One where emerging Australian artists are expected to work, sometimes in ways that may not align with their values, for exposure, fund their own growth, and hope for a break that's increasingly further out of reach. However, unless we create more space and opportunity for local talent to grow, we might one day find ourselves with nothing local left to champion.