So that’s it then! Next year’s Bluesfest, the 36th, will be the last. Festival director Peter Noble has announced that this “labour of love, a celebration of music community and the resilient spirit of our fans” has run its course, pulling the plug on a festival which began as a blues and roots event but has become a multi-style autumn staple. The late Sinead O’Connor performing at what was then known as the East Coast Blues & Roots Festival in 2008.
Credit: Kristian Dowling/Getty Images Why? And why now after surviving two devastating cancellations during COVID, one of them on the eve of the 2021 event? There is no explanation in the press release issued by Noble, who says, “as much as it pains me to say this, it’s time to close this chapter”, but there are any number of possibilities. Take your pick. Changing audience tastes when it comes to gig-going, festival-going and buying-in-advance is one factor – especially for a festival that runs four to five days.
Another may be the inability to shift the demographic from an ageing, if cashed-up, audience to a generation that can develop the habit of going, maybe without even needing to know who will be playing. After all, the currency of “legends” to twentysomethings, thirtysomethings and even fortysomethings ain’t what it used to be. Questionable artist selections (and not always defensible arguments for them to an audience quite capable of making decisions on ethical and moral grounds) might have played a role, as much as it seemed to confound the festival director .
Inflation-based cost rises in everything from airfares to equipment hire has not helped. Nor has a related, but not necessarily connected, surge in the fees demanded by booking agents for major acts who are trying to make up for money lost during the non-touring years of COVID lockdowns. There’s no doubt that making bonus money by putting on sideshows for some of the festival acts has become harder as venues everywhere experience drop-offs in patronage.
Bluesfest director Peter Noble. Credit: Edwina Pickles And you could also consider the influence of an incredible concentration of power and influence in the hands of certain international conglomerates who now book tours of artists they manage into rooms they operate and festivals whose ownership they dominate, selling tickets via the ticket retailers they own. So much influence that even venues and festivals not aligned with them must pay over the odds to have preferred acts play, or give in and let the conglomerate take over.
This failure, if failure it is, is no orphan but has many fathers, whether they acknowledge paternity or not. Still, as many people as there are who may have had issues with this event, festivals generally or Peter Noble specifically, it’s not likely that anyone is going to say this is anything but very disappointing news. Many businesses have come to rely on supplying product and material to Bluesfest, from equipment and food to labour and transport.
Many businesses in Byron Bay and its surrounds came to rely on the patronage of gig-goers, in accommodation and hospitality and peripheral tourism. Venues around the country and smaller tour promoters will now miss out on some of the added-on gigs that came at a reduced price from artists booked, and paid for, principally by the festival. There are many acts who may not now get a high-profile boost or an invitation to Australia, or a mid-afternoon slot between a couple of veterans that catches the eye of cashed-up music fans who might come and see them separately at a regular venue.
And of course there are many gig-goers and fans who may not get to see some of these acts who would normally only come for a/this festival – or some, like Ben Harper, to name just one – who seemingly came for every festival, and only the festival. However, there’s also no one who’s going to pretend that this is anything like a new or particularly surprising story. Not just in Byron, where the even bigger Splendour In The Grass is in “hiatus” , but anywhere from Perth to Sydney, and especially outside capital cities, where festivals have been falling over consistently for the past five years: Pre-pandemic and especially post-pandemic.
In fact, predictions of the imminent demise of Bluesfest have been circulating for a couple of years. But no, #notallfestivals – something worth remembering in an industry that can catastrophise with the best of them. Smaller festivals, modest festivals, maybe more sensibly programmed festivals, will still be operating, will still be booking, will still be attracting ticket buyers.
There may be higher costs, but they seem to be able to make it work. And others may come. Maybe they will pay less and charge less.
Perhaps they will book smaller acts, ones on the rise or ones who plateaued, happily, and aren’t demanding fees like in the glory days. Maybe they’ll do it in one day or near a railway station. They may offer chairs and creches instead of camping grounds.
Perhaps they’ll keep it to acts who have released new music in the past five years. Maybe they’ll insist only acts with 30 years of touring behind them can apply. And in the cycle of life that the music business knows better than most, it’s likely that a trend away from multi-day festivals now, will be reversed in five years or 10 years and someone will be hailed a genius for coming up with the concept of an event boasting artists from different styles and genres, playing outdoors and indoors, to a multi-generational audience all day, or over several days.
You might call it the Biggish Day Out, for example. Or PopFest. Who knows? Bernard Zuel is a freelance writer who specialises in music.
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