Is Brisbane's Live Music Scene Dead?

There are lots of thing going on in the Brisbane music scene this week.

Legendary garage rockers The Scientists are playing The Hi-Fi tomorrow night to celebrate their thirty-fifth anniversary. Brisbane’s community radio station 4zzz are holding a mini music festival at The Underdog on Saturday, March 29 in support of their Live Music Week. Brisbane band Babaganouj will celebrate the release of their new single at Black Bear Lodge with The Good Sports and new Brisbane band Love Signs on Friday, March 28. There are plenty of other gigs I could list here, but does this really mean Brisbane’s music scene is alive and kicking?

I will mention one other gig. Brisbane’s weekly indulgence of free live music and cheap drinks, Trainspotters, will host one of Go Violet’s last shows on Saturday. Go Violets were one of few bands in Brisbane causing a mild stir both interstate and overseas, with plenty of potential to continue to develop a strong fan-base, and maybe even some fuel for the Brisbane live music scene. The members of Go Violets all have other side projects, Babaganouj been one of them, but none of these bands have really had the same driving force behind them as Go Violets. What this demonstrates is one of Brisbane’s core conundrums: when a band is actually good they tend to give it all up for some reason or move overseas to find ‘real’ success.

The return of The Scientists reminds of us of a better time in Australia’s music industry, a time when independent music thrived. People who were around Brisbane in the 70s, 80s and 90s boast about an exotic music scene; the gathering of a somewhat schizophrenic community of punks, swampies, rude boys, mods, rockabillies and goths to celebrate music and reject Brisbane’s encroaching government. However, it is likely that most of these people are viewing the era through rose-tinted glasses and that perhaps, our scene right now is not as different as we think it is, even if does feel somewhat deflated. Obvious parallels can be made between political state of Brisbane in the 70s, when 4zzz was founded, and the many government policies threatening live music in Brisbane, such as the proposed 1am lockout. The same violent backlash from musicians, however, is not evident. In fact, most musicians seem to be directing their hate and frustration towards each other, with plenty of music snobbery evident amongst the few circles Brisbane’s music scene has. Yes, bands frequently support other bands by attending their gigs, but this is also part of the problem with Brisbane’s music scene. There are only so many bands in Brisbane and if nobody but musicians are attending gigs, this certainly means bands are not reaching enough people.

On top of the majority’s indifference to Brisbane’s music scene is the overriding dominance of club culture, which only further destroys the meagre threads left in Brisbane’s music scene. The Valley is no longer a symbol for live music and a safe place for misfits and musos alike; it has instead degenerated into a haven for trashy nightclubs. One-by-one live music venues are taken over by club nights in a desperate attempt for venue managers to produce some revenue. Brisbane’s The Troubadour, the city’s once resident live music venue, closed down in 2003 as a result of The Valley’s ‘changing face’, as owner Jaime Trevaskis put it. It was later replaced with Black Bear Lodge, a worthy replacement venue that supports live music, however, its main focus has always been on boutique DJ nights as opposed to live music. Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays are typical live-music nights at Black Bear, with an occasional Friday or Saturday gig. Woodland, another music venue accommodating independent styles of music, also closed its doors to be replaced with Coniston Lane, a venue which occasionally features live music, but seems to unfortunately be dead quiet most of the time.

Rics was once Brisbane’s go to venues for live music and cheap drinks and whilst it still features live music, it is not nearly on the scale of what it once was, and the community that used to surround the bar are long gone. Some people attribute this to the change of management that took place a number of years ago, others claim the bar’s spirit has been long dead. However, these changes cannot be linked to any one person or place: they were really precipitated by The Valley becoming a designated entertainment precinct in 2006. Noise complaints threatened the sustenance of the scene’s throbbing nightlife and these laws were meant to preserve The Valley’s music scene, but instead they invited property developers right into the middle of it. The result was a mass invasion of club culture and gentrification. 

Okay, so some new venues have popped up in the last year to the fill the void, such as The Underdog and The New Globe Theatre. The only problem is people continue to gravitate toward the many nightclubs that inundate The Valley, rather than filling out these new live music dedicated venues. And with no audience, why should a band bother putting on a gig at these venues? Some would argue it is time musicians packed their bags and headed on over to Brisbane’s other entertainment precinct, West End. However, the area does not really offer any consistent live music and is more of a casual bar hopping precinct. A gig here and there at a small bar that can barely accommodate 100 people is hardly the makings for a strong music scene. Brisbane’s music roots lay in The Valley and it is there where musicians should lay claim to their inheritance. When people are talking about music, playing music and building a real community, the venues will respond and change their face a second time.

In light of Sydney’s new lockout laws, New South Wales Police Minister Mike Gallacher declared, “I’m sorry, but the live music industry is dead.” Whilst, his statement is no justification for the new laws, and in fact, a very good reason why they should not be passed in Brisbane, Gallacher’s statement is not as outlandish as others have proclaimed. In fact, as simplified as his statement is, Gallacher is probably right on the money. The live music scene in Brisbane is dying a very slow and painful death: it is fragmented, underfunded and unsure of itself. The venues that exist for live music in Brisbane could be counted on one hand. On any Friday or Saturday night the majority of these venues are half-empty and if there are people there, half of the crowd are out the back smoking a cigarette and missing the band’s set.

This does not in anyway mean we should give up on Brisbane. In fact, now is the time we should all be putting ourselves out there to promote its growth and maturity. Bands who replicate the sounds of more successful groups played on triple j are simply not good enough. Half-hearted sets by bands disappointed by the lack of attendance, or simply too insecure to put themselves out there, is also not good enough. If Brisbaners are going to get behind a music scene in their city they need something worthy to support. The lack of community and serious dedication to music in Brisbane is why the scene currently lays dormant and this will only be fixed when someone cares enough about music to do something bold. Meanwhile, it's up to the rest of us to make a start by attending some gigs, with 4zzz's Live Music Week being the perfect opportunity to do just that.

Published by AAA Backstage.

Interview: Ball Park Music

For those of you experiencing Ball Park Music withdrawals after their lengthy absence from the live music scene and the triple j rotation playlist, this April will mark the end of your disquiet as the band head back on the road for an Australian tour and release their third album 'Puddinghead'.

I gave Ball Park's lead singer and songwriter Sam Cromack a call to talk about recording in a three bedroom house in Brisbane's northern Suburbs, Cromack's interest in producing more music in the future, Rick Rubin's advice for songwriting, the hospitality of the Dutch and being apart of a creative community in Brisbane.

Hi, this is Jessica from AAA Backstage. How are you today?

Yeah, good.

So just to begin with, can you tell me about the process it took to put together your latest album ‘Puddinghead’ and what have you guys have been up to since your last album came out?

Sure. We spent most of last year working on the new record. We started in about March last year and got our first space to work in. We produced the new record ourselves, so we had to find a space and buy some gear. We ended up finding a house in the northern suburbs of Brisbane. We were there for about nine months.

We did one tour in the middle of last year and we also went overseas in October and November, but apart from that we were just here in Brisbane going to a little makeshift studio three or four times a week and chipping away at the record. It was a little bit tedious at the start of the year, you know, we didn’t really have much on and we were sort of just twiddling our thumbs, but lately we’ve been preparing for the tour coming up, so we’re much busier now. 

So with the recording process in the house you were talking about, what led to the decision to record in this way and do you think you’ll continue to use this approach in the future?

In answer to your last question, I think we’ll definitely record this way in the future. The reason we got started on it…well, there was no real catalyst for doing it this way. I have always loved recording: that’s what I studied at uni, and I’ve always done a little bit of recording on my own in my spare time. Talk sort of started of the possibility of the band doing a record like that and yeah, I didn’t anticipate everybody would be so keen on the idea. Before we knew it we were trying to find a place to do it. I think we were just eager to try something new and thought that we could find a different sound or a sound that is more close to what we originally wanted.

It certainly wasn’t a retaliation to the way we’ve worked before or the people that we’ve worked with in the past, because we have a really good relationship with the guy that did our first two records, Matt Redlich. He was really helpful went we went through this process of doing it ourselves, in giving advice and helping us make things work. I think he really encouraged us to go in this direction.

In what sort of ways do you think it has changed the sound of your music compared to prior stuff you’ve recorded? Is it more of a raw live sound?

It’s actually the opposite. Previously when we worked with Matt we’d rarely sort of go over 16 channels for a song. A bunch of us would set up in his studio in the one room, smash it out, same as we would live. Whereas this time around, even though we were doing it ourselves, it was sort of the opposite. We pieced it together a lot more and manipulated what we working with, tidied it up and did a lot more editing. That was a really different process that we’d not really explored before: having all the editing and stipulation powered through the computer, and that was a really big influence on how we approached the new record and how the new record sounds. 

Did you guys develop any recording rituals during this process?

No, I mean I’m just trying to think of something….I know a lot of bands have a live ritual, you know, before you play you might do something. But I think we sort of treated our little space like a workspace. We treated it like a job. You know, I’d get up when my girlfriend would get up, I’d have breakfast and pack myself some lunch, drive to the studio and work there until dinnertime, like it was a real job. I really enjoyed that routine.

I think when you have a routine you get more work done, even though it can be hard to self-motivate.

Totally, and that’s the routine I’m used to. You know I went to school, and between school and where I am now I’ve had day jobs. Being a musician and not having that structure forced upon you can be a bit challenging sometimes. So I kind of tried to force it upon myself and I really liked those months of working on the record and doing that every day. I would definitely like to work in that way again. It’s probably sort of a little into the future, but I definitely have a long-term goal to get a space set up where Ball Park Music can work and I can work with artists. I’d really like to expand on what we did and work with other artists as well.

Right, do you have any music styles in mind that you’d be keen to work with as a producer?

Not really. I mean I like doing a bit of everything. I think being in the band has exposed me to a lot of old fashioned rock n roll techniques that I may not have otherwise experienced. You know, a lot of young modern music makers are making music on their own and on their laptops. The old sort of format of hiring a studio with a group of musicians is sort of dying away a little bit. So I think being in band really exposed me to that, especially working with Matt. I really love that side of things. I also love the more isolated producer aspect to. You know, I make a lot of music on my own, just using a lot of synthesisers and midi work, and making beats and stuff like that. So if I were to have a place to work I’d probably want to do a bit of everything.

I believe prior to Ball Park you had some other projects going on that involved some of these recording techniques. Is that something you’d be keen to continue in the future?

Well, yeah, I have a side project called My Own Pet Radio. But the band’s been really busy in the last couple of years so it’s been put to the side a bit. I used to see my side project as a way to sort of let off steam; I’d sort of retreat to that when I wasn’t getting satisfied in the band. But now I’ve been working hard to bring those two together and that was a big influence on us doing the record ourselves. Especially for me, you know, I wanted to have that extra imprint on our production. I wanted to combine the world of playing in a band with my love of production and more intricate recording techniques. So that’s why my side project has sort of disappeared a bit. But maybe I’ll revisit it soon. I’m doing a show with My Own Pet Radio just next week.

Oh, okay, where is that? In Brisbane?

Yeah, yeah, it’s just a quiet one. I’m supporting some friends at The Zoo who are launching their EP.

Just getting back to the album, can you tell me more about the songs on the album and if you’ve experimented with the song writing style, in terms of the structure of the songs and the lyrics?

A lot of the songs were actually sort of revisited. I had a lot of demos and recordings kicking around from the last few years and so when we first started the new project we all just sat down and listened to a lot of the recordings we had lying around and we picked out what liked, and what we could revisit and rework. So I think there’s sort of three or four songs that were old ones of mine and then a bunch of new stuff written for the record.

We reached a point where I felt like the record was finished; we had 11 or 12 songs and had decided on the track-lisitng. But following that, I wrote a bunch of songs thinking they wouldn’t belong to any project, but they ended up being really good: probably because I thought I was free of the whole process and didn’t need to worry about putting them on the record. We scrapped a bunch of songs and put these ones on instead. I think because I drew material from such a large stretch of time there’s definitely no underlying theme that ties them all together.

Your song writing always has a very personal touch to it. Do your songs reflect true stories and real events or are they the culmination of a variety of ideas and emotions spawned from many different sources? Or is it a bit of both?

Yeah, I think it probably is a bit of both. I defiantly tend to have a sort of personal vibe, like you said. There’s a quote that’s kind of driven me insane that I got from when Rick Rubin was recording with Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash has obviously done lots of recordings over the year and worked with Rick Rubin when he was quite old. And so Rick Rubin encouraged him to stop using the word ‘I’ in his songs so much: saying I did this and I am this, and I bla, bla, bla, and instead try and write songs outside of yourself, to make it personal, but not always just me, me, me.

I’ve really tried to incorporate that into my song writing, but I always resort to saying I and it’s really been stumping me as a writer. It’s starting to make me feel sort of selfish as a writer, and I kind of more and more start to question, you know, what am I doing here, and why do I always resort to me and I.  But I don’t know, I guess that is sort of my role as a songwriter - to tell stories. 

A lot of people do like the use of ‘I’ in a song or even first person narration in a book. It helps you connect with the writer and feel like you know them.

I agree yeah, but I think if you do it relentlessly there’s like a threshold where you sort of move from having some nice personal stories to share to just coming across as full of self interest. So I’ve been really trying to get that balance right.

Another common habit of mine I became more aware of was when I was reading an Elliot Smith biography that just came out, it’s the first one out since his death ten years ago. He had a habit that I really identified with. He would sort of share personal stories and write lyrics that were deeply personal, but then end up looking at them and decide that some aspects of what he was saying he didn’t feel comfortable with sharing. And so he would deliberately make them abstract. So I do that a lot. I’ll get the nuts and bolts of what I truly want to say and then I’ll describe it with some abstract imagery so people can’t directly interpret what’s going on in my life. I guess that’s just sort of a safety of thing, you don’t want to hurt people and cause trouble.

Yeah, and it definitely makes the work, not only more relatable, but much more timeless, if you can weave your personal ideas and reflections into a wider context.

That’s right and I think that’s what I’ve always loved about John Lennon. He can take a really simple idea, often something he is experiencing as a person, but he delivers it in a way that all the world can jump on board with that lyric and feel it. I’m trying to do that, but I don’t know if I hit the mark or not. 

So last year saw Ball Park headline a lot of the larger venues in Australia and this year you’ll be returning to those venues once again as headliners. Do you prefer to have those big spaces or do you miss those smaller intimate venues you used to play?

Well, I think in a couple of cities we’ll definitely get into some larger and really beautiful theatre-like venues, and I mean it’s glorious, you really do love it; they’re beautiful places to play, the sound is really fantastic and it’s always a pleasure to play to lots and lots of people. But, you know, once we get out of the capital cities we visit the regional areas and the rooms are a lot smaller, and so you do kind of get to have the best of both worlds.

I’ve really trained myself to go on tour with no expectations. If you get too excited about playing in the big venues or conversely, if you get bummed out about playing in the small shitty pub, you kind of doom yourself into having a bad time. You really cannot predict when a great gig is going to come along. Some of the best nights I’ve had have been in some of the most unlikely places. I think I really just appreciate aspects of both venues.

We’re there any venues in particular when you went overseas?

Well, we did a show in London in a placed called Water Rat and I think it only holds two or three hundred people. It was sold out, but I think it was pretty much 99 per cent Australians there, all expats who were living in London and already knew us from Australia. I don’t think I heard one British accent in the pub all night. That was a really fun show. There is a part of you that thinks, 'I can’t believe I travelled all this way to play to Aussies'. But that was a really fun night. It’s really good to be in a brand new environment and have to navigate through that.

Again in the Netherlands we did some small venues with pretty modest crowds, but that was really fun, the audience were really quiet there, and modest, and appreciative. And the hospitality is second to none. Just beautiful, they look after you so well, and feed everyone; there’s a real sense of family, it’s really sweet.

I’ll have to check out the Netherlands then.

It’s a cool country.

So just for my final question, after touring overseas and playing around Australia last year, how does it feel to be back in Brisbane and do you think Ball Park will stay here or move on elsewhere?

It’s hard to say. I was just talking to someone earlier in the week about how Brisbane is really becoming associated with us and what we do, and how every bit of press that mentions our bands says something like, ‘Brisbane’s very own Ball Park Music’ or refer to Brisbane or the music scene here, or that we grew up here, even though I didn’t. But yeah, it does kind of bring into question whether we’ll stay here forever. We love it here, the weather’s not always ideal, but it is a cool city. It’s a modest city, which I like. I think it’s flexible and the more we establish ourselves, the more we can actually afford to locate ourselves somewhere else. At this point I am content here and we’ll stay here. I still get this kind of fuzzy, homely feeling when we fly in and I see the city. 

I guess you do have that luxury as a musician where you can go on tour, have a break from Brisbane and then come back.

Yeah, that's true. I think it’s also nice to be apart of a place that’s growing up and discovering its identity. I always sort of get confused about people who move to Los Angeles for something like that. Obviously, there’s lots of opportunities there, but you’re kind of moving somewhere where things are already established. You can’t really be part of any new cultural movement, you can only join one that already exists. It is nice to be part of a place that is growing.

Yeah, and there’s a strong small community here, particularly for musicians. Alright, well thank-you for the chat today and best of luck with your Australian tour and your show next week.

Published by AAA Backstage.

Live Review: Flying Lotus @ The HiFi, March 6, 2014

Steven Ellison of Flying Lotus makes the type of music that confuses and divides many people, having redefined and subverted mainstream perceptions of what music really is with his experimental catalogue. Steven Ellison’s music cannot simply be defined by any one genre or any basic song structure. Although he might not have vocals, a chorus or any structure at all to many of his songs, Ellison’s music encapsulates specific moments of interior life with seemingly basic sounds that resonate at just the right moment. The Flying Lotus live show is even more spectacular; not only do Ellison’s sounds strike your ears at just the right time to capture a perfect moment, but the visual 3D spectacle dubbed ‘Layer 3’ is designed to attack all senses. The result is a magnificent synergistic force to be reckoned with. It begs the question as to what Flying Lotus really is; is it Steven Ellison, is it the visual designers, or is it both? Flying Lotus is neither just music nor a visual tour de force. Layer 3 is all about representing the experience of music, which is really, what Flying Lotus is about.  

What makes Flying Lotus an important figure in popular music today is that he is one of few popular artists subverting song structures and styles, whilst also dismantling modern day emphasis on the persona of an artist. Even though Steven Ellison has created a grand spectacle with his 3D show, the emphasis is still not on him as an individual, but the experience of music. This is more than adequately represented with Layer 3, which essentially transform Ellison into a cartoon silhouette of himself. The 3D wall that separates Ellison from the audience assumes considerable significance as both an essential element to the spectacle of Flying Lotus, but also a marker of the figurative space that distances him from the audience, a space Ellison necessarily needs to adopt as an artist. By shadowing his real self with a 3D wall of kaleidoscope images Ellison effectively places the emphasis back on the music, which is where it belongs.

Flying Lotus’ set begins with the tribal opening drum beat of ‘See Thru To U’ from his latest album ‘Until The Quiet Comes’: a perfect means of building up anticipation for the already giddy audience. He takes the stage and Layer 3 is brought to life with two screens sandwiching Flying Lotus in the middle, as different visuals are projected onto each screen: the result is a 3D phenomenon. These screens feature geometric 3D shapes and patterns that paint a picture of the psychedelic digital world featured in Flying Lotus’ music, particularly his breakthrough album ‘Los Angeles’. His latest album ‘Until The Quiet Comes’ peels back the layers of Flying Lotus’ original sound, whilst still preserving his vision of a futuristic urban world, but from the perspective of simplistic childlike wonder as opposed to the more layered style of prior releases. The 3D structure of Layer 3 is not simply an enthralling accompaniment to the music; its key significance lies in the effectiveness of the 3D spectacle to submerge the audience into this world.

The music of Flying Lotus tells a story without any vocals or language, but instead with electronic beats and noises assuming the role of the storyteller, a role that is enhanced with the accompanying visuals. Flying Lotus’ albums have always struck a beautiful balance between recalling the quiet moments of urban living, whilst also demonstrating the chaos, a balance achieved with Ellison’s ultra modern electronic style paired with a psychedelic minimalist aesthetic. This marriage of the electronic and the psychedelic is becoming more popular by the day, although Flying Lotus takes it to a very different place compared to more mainstream electronic psychedelic acts.

Whilst the more minimalist tunes from the Flying Lotus catalogue were featured, there was certainly an emphasis on recently high-energy tunes such as ‘Sultan’s Request’ and ‘The Nightcaller’, with little time to relax and enjoy the quiet songs. There was also little of Flying Lotus’ earlier discography played, which was disappointing, but understandable as most live shows emphasise recent releases and upbeat songs. However, Layer 3 might have been a good candidate to be an exception to this general set-list structure, as surely the 3D composition of Layer 3 would have provided enough arresting images to keep Flying Lotus’ more mellow material interesting in a live setting. Although Layer 3 focused primarily on ‘Until The Quiet Comes’, audiences were treated with ‘Brainfeeder’ from ‘Los Angeles’ and a couple of other fan favourites from his earlier discography. Between new songs like ‘Putty Boy Strut’, complimented by images of a futuristic toy robot world and classics like ‘Zodiac Shit’, accompanied by mystical Buddhist imagery, there is not a dull moment or a chance to breathe on the roller coaster ride that is Layer 3.

It was somewhat of a surprise to see songs from Ellison’s hip hop side project Captain Murphy, as the sound is distinctly different from Flying Lotus and the inclusion of tunes like ‘Between Friends’ and ‘Mighty Morphin’ somewhat disrupted the flow of the show, even if it did give the audience a light-hearted break from the Flying Lotus material. The Captain Murphy interludes also gave Ellison the chance to step out from behind the curtain and connect with his audience. Many of these moments proved to be some of the most dynamic of the night, particularly when Ellison treated audiences with some raw acapella rapping, even if the songs were not as interesting as the Flying Lotus catalogue. It was impossible not to surrender to the good vibes of Ellison’s Captain Murphy persona, with Ellison proving that he could perfectly embody both the role of the distant beatsmith and the charismatic rap star.

What really made the Layer 3 experience such an enthralling representation of Flying Lotus is the dedication to detail exhibited by the visual designers. None of the images featured were stock trippy visuals and all of them were uniquely choreographed on the night to coincide with Flying Lotus’ performance, even if the hard work was done beforehand. The diversity of the visual delights was also incredible, with images ranging from retro seventies cartoons, to a background of black and white piano keys that morphed into a ying and yang symbol to a labyrinth, and then into a psychedelic spiral. It was immediately evident that each image was carefully constructed to coincide with the music, with the 3D geometric shapes and patterns bringing Flying Lotus to life.

Published by AAA Backstage.

Festival Marketing Strategies For The Age of Technology

Everyday a cluster of news items detailing festival money losses, line-up mishaps, festival cancellations and low tickets sales seem to appear online.

Big Day Out, Soundwave, Harvest and most recently, underage festival Push Over, have all suffered low-ticket sales, losses and bad press. People aren’t happy with festivals and they’re not going to put up with poor organisation and inflated ticket prices. But is there more to the festival crisis then meets the eye? Is it really all just a matter of poor organisation of the actual events, or is it perhaps because festival promoters are not as in touch with their markets as they could be?

The aim of any festival promoter should be to build up hype before the event and advertise a variety of aspects of the festival that will appeal to their markets, whilst also fostering a sense of community around the event. This is where gigs and festivals differ – not just because of the larger line-up, but because of the different environments and the community ethos associated with festivals.

I don’t see a lot of these marketing strategies being attempted by festival promoters themselves. Music websites like AAA build up hype for festivals by discussing it on social media platforms, covering news items related to the festival, covering the festival itself with reviews and photographers, and writing various articles related to the festival in question (not always the hype they want, of course).

Festivals themselves don’t seem to be doing any of the hard work, at least not on the online platform where most information is now communicated. Gone are the days of print advertisements and posters: social media is where people get their news, and this is where the music websites come in. But shouldn’t the festivals be putting in the effort to market their festivals online? They damn well should, considering music websites also cover the bad press and are not going to necessarily portray the image the festival promoters want to convey, even if festival organisers send websites a sappy press release boasting the festival’s benefits - as you can tell with this article.

To foster this community vibe a number of things must be put into place prior to the festival and after it. Namely, hype must first be built to attract a community of festivalgoers and maintain their interest. But the way this hype is built is very important to this cause. A festival needs an identity to have a community of like-minded people and a festival identity is first and foremost developed through marketing and advertising prior to the festival. And this is where festivals run into a lot of problems; none of this is happening.

And why is it not happening? 

First, because many festivals do not have an identity (I’m looking at you Big Day Out) and try to pander to too many markets, but I will not discuss this in length as a proper analysis would require a separate article. Second, because there is not enough hype being built prior to festivals focusing on niche aspects of the festival that gives the event an identity. Third, because what little marketing and advertising festivals do attempt are not effective, because they are not taking full advantage of social media. And fourth, because the promotions festival organisers are running completely destroy this notion of community.

Let’s run with Big Day Out as an example of a dysfunctional festival, considering, it’s well…pretty dysfunctional at the moment. On my fourth point I refer you to the Like A Boss promotion.

When you go on the Big Day Out website and click the ‘Buy Ticket’ button, you will get a drop down menu that immediately refers to ‘Like A Boss’. What is this odd Like A Boss link, I hear you ask? It’s a page advertising a special $285 ticket that gives you the premium Big Day Out experience. Cue eye rolling right now. And what do you get for your extra $100 – a ‘limited edition Like A Boss souvenir ticket’.  What, so my ordinary $185 Big Day Out ticket isn’t good enough to be kept as a souvenir? What is this special Like A Boss ticket – is it carved out of gold?

You also get a ‘special limited edition Like A Boss Club Pass, so everybody knows you’re A Boss’. Why would I want people to know I’m such a gullible douchebag that I would pay an extra $100 for crap I don’t need at a mediocre festival? Isn’t this ‘special limited edition’ club pass the same thing as my theoretical souvenir ticket?  Also, can somebody let the PR department for Big Day Out know that you don’t need two adjectives to describe what is essentially the same thing. Pick one – it’s either ‘special’ or ‘limited’. You don’t get two adjectives. Ever.

Next, you get ‘exclusive Boss main stage viewing areas’. Okay, here’s something with a little more substance. Well, that is until you realise that exclusive main stage viewing is all side stage views completely detached from the main stage pits, which is where all the magic happens. That’s who the bands on stage are playing to – not the ‘Bosses’ on the side of the stage with too much money on their hands (I can’t think of some worthy places they could donate that $100 to…like my booze money for the event).

Now we get to our penultimate Like A Boss special limited snowflake advantages. ‘Boss Entry Ways’. Okay…so it’s like that skip the line thing at the cinema, I’m guessing, because the website gives no more information about this. $100 for ten minutes in line. That’s $10 for every minute. Think about it.

Lastly, Like A Boss ticket holders receive ‘Real Boss Amenities’, none of which the website describes. This is the only thing worthy of any extra money, considering the amount of time festivalgoers waste lining up for amenities.  Maybe instead of running these ridiculous VIP promotions, festivals could focus on providing more amenities. In fact, put that in your marketing strategy and I’ll gladly go to your festival.

But the problem here isn’t that the ‘Like A Boss’ promotion is a total sham or that it is poorly advertised, although both of these issues are hindering this Like A Boss crap from being successful at all, even with the people who can afford it. The main problem is that these premium passes create a class divide that completely undermines the ethos of the festival experience and effectively alienates the majority of your ticket holders.

Did Woodstock have ‘VIP’ areas? Did Woodstock make any money, I hear you ask? No, but that’s not the point. Woodstock is regarded as the greatest music festival in history and it could have made money if it was organised by people who are actually professional promoters. Keeping out freeloaders and managing hoards of people were the key problems that undermined Woodstock’s financial success. This is not a problem for modern festivals, as nobody is even interested in going anymore. Before you worry about organising your festival, you should first and foremost make sure people are attending. These VIP promotions are damaging the festival community without gaining all that much cash for greedy festival promoters. 

One might argue that in our age of technology we are all so isolated from each other that this community spirit is not essential to selling tickets. But this is not true. In our age of technology we more connected than ever and festivals are not taking advantage of this through the platform of social media. You can feature festival camping packages, party events before and after the main festival events and other gimmicks to foster this festival community, but none of this is an effective strategy without the marketing behind it.

You know who does nail social media marketing? Rugby League. The NRL have this thing called the ‘Mission Control Centre’. It’s not as cool as it sounds, but it is the keystone to their online marketing strategy. Essentially, during an NRL game Misson Control employees utilise social media listening tools like Salesforce, Radian6 and Klout to funnel social media posts from the most influential Facebook and Twitter users, many of whom, are celebrities. These posts are then analysed by ‘catchers’, who pass on the info to ‘approvers’, who then move it on to designers and art directors, who create new posts that feature content taken straight from these popular posts. This process takes about five minutes.

Not all festivals have this kind of manpower, but it is certainly something to think about – especially involving music press who have the facilities to cover festivals in this way. What the NRL’s marketing strategies highlights is the failure of festival organisers to take advantage of modern technology that can connect us, rather then isolate us.

Indeed, with everybody connected through Twitter, Facebook and Instagram festivals need to be spreading the love before, after and during the festival to make everybody who didn’t go to the festival feeling like they’ve missed out on the best party of the year and have everybody who did go to the festival get excited about going, talk about it online and then fondly remember the experience afterward, and then talk about it some more.

I’m not advocating organising festival parties and making people pay extra for another day of events that don’t include music, which is what many festivals do, namely Falls Festival. People will make their own fun, have their own parties and build the community spirit themselves if that community spirit is associated with the festival prior to the event.

And that will be your best and cheapest marketing strategy of all. But to get there, you need to plant the marketing seedlings. If you make your festivalgoers happy and make them feel welcome, they will do the job for you.

Published by AAA Backstage.