
The live music scene in Australia is in trouble.
With the financial hangover caused by the devastation of the pandemic, and the rising cost of living, more artists are struggling to be able to justify the cost of touring. And everyone in the industry is feeling it. APRA AMCOS reported in 2023 that, since the start of the pandemic, more than 1,300 live music venues and stages across Australia have closed.
On top of that, weāre seeing legacy festivalsāonce the backbone of the countryās music sceneāfall by the wayside. Splendour in the Grass, Spilt Milk and Groovinā The Moo are just some of the once-legendary names that werenāt able to go ahead this year, and the festival calendar looks almost completely barren.
Festivals and live music played such a formative role in my late teens and early 20s. I remember happening to catch a (then) small Melbourne band called Northeast Party House support The Jungle Giants at the (now closed) Newcastle venue The Cambridge Hotel when I was 18, and the obsession was swift and unwavering. Over a decade later, Iām still obsessed and have watched them grow from strength to strength.
Advert
It destroys me that young Australians are being deprived of having those same experiences. Whether they canāt afford it, donāt want it or have nowhere to experience it, the magic of live music is being de-prioritised here when it was once so full of life.
So imagine my surprise when audiences showed vested interest in a rave at⦠Bunnings Warehouse.
The idea was, perhaps jokingly, first floated by producer Kaila, who remixed Bunningsā iconic jingle.
Producers from all around the country, like Peking Duk, and even the social media account of Bunnings itself were on board. Cut to this month, and the rave is confirmed to go ahead at Bunnings Preston, VIC, on Saturday, August 31. And itās completely sold out.
Why is the Bunnings Rave important?
But, What So Notāreal name Chris Emersonāwas the ideaās biggest champion, and he spoke to me about what the Bunnings rave actually represents.
Advert
āItās a gateway for mainstream media and brands to latch onto the āAustralian Dance Revivalā,ā Emerson says. Earlier this year he announced his āDance Dance Revivalā tour, where he endeavoured to throw festival-style lineups in clubs around the country, including regional Australia who is feeling the loss of live music especially hard.
āNot only shedding light on the dire state of the music industry, but creating genuinely exciting IRL activations for young Australian musicians to perform & getting the Australian public out of their houses, raving in iconic locations.ā
Advert
When asked to describe life working in a touring industry in one word, Emerson pulled no punches: āGruelling.ā
āWeāre in a catch 22,ā he says.
āRunning a club right now by default is a āriskāāif youāre not shut down alreadyālet alone trying to be daring with a line-up or touring unproven, emerging, international acts.
āFestivals are shutting down, skipping years and downsizing. Production costs are way up, skilled staff are in shortage because many left and gave up on the industry through COVID. Clubs and festivals are struggling to take risks on cool new acts, but then people arenāt excited to go to events because the new exciting things arenāt being booked and championed.ā
The hangover of COVID-19 lingers
Unfortunately, COVID-19, which live music was hit particularly hard by, continues to wreak havoc. Just last year, Wild Turkey conducted a survey and found 89% of aspiring Australian artists were struggling to pursue music as a career, and 73% were considering giving it up completely. Many people whose livelihoods were impacted by the pandemic never returned to their jobs, according to Emerson.
Advert
āThere was a mass industry exodus,ā he says, āPeople simply couldnāt afford to stay in music, production, events, management and agencies. So, they left & never came back.ā
But, inspired by the pandemic, Emerson also notes that weāve lost an entire āclubbing generationā simply because those who wouldāve been clubbing during the pandemic couldnāt.
āIt feels like a lot of people donāt know how to ābeā in a club, a mosh pit, camp in some mud and enjoy it. Nightlife was always the escape from the youthful, anxious nihilism while you work out who you are & what you want to be in lifeāsometimes the only glimmer of hope and euphoria amongst all the BS and uncertainty.
āI think people have lost touch with that avenue and Iām not sure theyāre finding it elsewhere.ā
The Bunnings Rave doesn't have to be a meme
But if they were looking for it, Bunnings answered their call. Emerson refutes the idea that itās just a meme, but even if it is, the ends might still justify the means.
Advert
ā(On the Dance Dance Revival tour) I was musically inspired by these people, made so many new friends and we reinvigorated the music community from the ground up in all their local towns,ā Emerson says.
āThe positive roll-on effect has been insane; young acts getting their first plays on radio, headlining their own local events, doing their first interstate shows & some of the biggest international DJs in the world now playing their tunes. I can see people caring again that had lost hope and young artists knowing dreams are not that far out of reach.ā
One thing that seems clear is that the Bunnings Rave is an example of the live music industry meeting the audience where theyāre at. A different angle, a clear POV and the incorporation of brands has meant the event can go ahead a success.
But will there be more? Emerson doesnāt see why not.
āImagine all the fun you could have with this? Afternoon pop-up and a snag before hitting the club or another gig. I am absolutely into this.ā
That imagination is what led to the Bunnings Rave in the first place, and now weāre in a time where the traditional means of putting on a gig or a festival arenāt always feasible. Itās time to lean into the silly, the ridiculous and the fun.
As What So Not puts it: āLifeās messy, dive in head first.ā
This article originally appeared on The Latch and was republished with permission.