Brisbane band Elko Fields recently performed at Mo’s Desert Clubhouse in Burleigh Heads, a venue that, like many others across Australia, is launching a new membership model to stay afloat. The initiative comes as the live music industry faces unprecedented challenges, including reduced alcohol consumption, escalating operational costs, and the lingering impact of the Covid-19 pandemic, which wiped out approximately one-third of small and mid-sized venues.
Adapt or Die: Reinventing the Live Music Business
On a cold, rainy Tuesday night in Sydney’s Dulwich Hill, most shopfronts are dark, but one is alive with sound. At Lazy Thinking, a not-for-profit venue housed in a former butcher’s shop, a small crowd is absorbed in a set by local band Entertainment Quarter. Among the posters on the walls, one stands out: a call for patrons to become members for $15 a month to help keep the venue alive.
Founder Jim Flanagan launched the membership model in June, citing average losses of $1,000 per week. More than 100 people have signed up. The goal is to reduce reliance on bar sales, a model Flanagan says no longer works for grassroots venues. “We sell drinks and hamburgers, and we take a small portion of ticket sales,” he explains. “Those income streams have never been enough to cover the cost of running the venue.”
Impact of Changing Drinking Habits
Flanagan acknowledges that the broader shift in drinking habits “is largely a good thing for the world,” but the impact on venue finances is stark. “We will often have a full, potentially sold-out show and we will make $400 at the bar, as opposed to maybe 30 years ago – a show like that would make $3,000-plus,” he says. With a standard $15 door price for every show, members are still counted as full-paying fans, so artists receive their usual cut of ticket revenue. Lazy Thinking has also launched a fundraising campaign to support artist residencies.
Flanagan sees the model as a necessary experiment. “It’s just horrifying how many music venues, both in Sydney and the country, are closing. It’s a bit of an apocalypse out there,” he says.
Broader Industry Pressures
According to Apra Amcos, the pandemic wiped out about 1,300 small and mid-sized live music venues—roughly one-third of the sector. Those that remain grapple with rising rents, insurance premiums, and other costs, which also affect band rooms and rehearsal studios. In May, Sydney venue Mary’s Underground announced it would close after seven years, citing financial pressures and declining bar sales.
Flanagan believes the traditional model is outdated. “I don’t think the ancient model the live music industry is built on—by which artists get the majority of the door, and the venue basically survives by selling beer and chardonnay—is viable. We need alternatives,” he says.
Melbourne’s Lulie Tavern: A Membership Success
In Melbourne, where a Music Victoria audit found venues hosting at least one gig a week declined by 25% between 2019 and 2023, rock’n’roll haven Lulie Tavern launched its own membership program last July. It now has more than 500 members, who pay $30 a year for perks including parties, a weekly jackpot, and discounted tickets to its annual LuliePalooza block party. Almost all shows at the Abbotsford venue are free.
Co-owner and band booker Asia Kwin Taylor says, “For a lot of people, it’s like their other lounge room.” Fellow owner Jon-Lee Farrell notes that the membership club grew from a simple question: “What does sustainable mean to us?” Faced with less predictable attendance, declining profits, and “hard meetings” every week, the extra revenue from memberships “just takes a tiny bit of pressure off,” he says. The membership has also created a sense of belonging. “Seeing people [with] the little Lulie Lovers keychain hanging off their belt buckle—it makes me so happy,” Kwin Taylor adds.
Queensland Venues Diversify and Lobby
In Queensland, Mo’s Desert Clubhouse in Burleigh Heads built adaptability into its business model from the start, with podcast studios, rehearsal spaces, and a live-streaming channel alongside live music. After surviving Covid by storing soap for a neighbouring factory, the venue faces new pressures. Co-founder Kimberly “Kimbo Slice” Ferguson points to the industrial estate location, the Gold Coast’s early-morning beach culture, and reduced alcohol sales. “Dry January has extended this year to June,” she says.
A typical week might include a former Australian Idol winner, a metal show, a surf-rock lineup, and a standup comedy night. “We really honestly can’t diversify any more than we already do. We’re holding on right now by our fingernails, as I know all venues are. I think that the only reason we’re still here is because of that versatility,” Ferguson says. Mo’s is preparing to launch its own membership program, and Ferguson is lobbying the local council for greater support. “Something has to change, or there will be no future independent venues on the Gold Coast. Everything’s going up, but the sales are coming down,” she warns.
In Cairns, Sky Rixon runs the city’s last remaining independent music venue, Elixir Music House, which she opened with her parents after moving north from Sydney. Over the years, Elixir has teetered on survival, from fighting off noise complaints through a petition with almost 7,500 signatures to grappling with changes in consumer behaviour. Rixon says another barrier is land use rules that make it difficult for venues to adapt quickly. “There’s a step before we all start talking about having hybrid businesses,” she says. With public liability insurance costs rising by more than 1,100%, Rixon is working to establish an Australian arm of the UK’s Music Venue Properties initiative, which buys grassroots venues to secure them as permanent cultural spaces.
“There have been lots of times I’ve wanted to throw in the towel,” Rixon admits. But what keeps her searching for solutions is the community and “being under the same roof as other people, experiencing that one beautiful moment that nothing else can give.”
Optimism Amidst Crisis
As squeezed margins at grassroots venues flow through to artists, others are strengthening different parts of the music ecosystem. In June, musician Nicole Munnelly launched Second Press, an independent Australian streaming platform that returns 85% of its revenue to artists. Meanwhile, not-for-profit gig guide SydneyMusic.net focuses on getting more people through venue doors. “Coming out of the pandemic, we realised that actually now we were dealing with a demand problem,” says co-founder Joe Hardy. “If we make it easier to find events, surely it’s going to get more people out to shows—and we’ve definitely had that theory proven many times over.”
Before its submission to the New South Wales government’s social issues committee, SydneyMusic.net found 84% of users surveyed said the gig guide had encouraged them to attend more shows. The organisation also launched an initiative called Every Corner to spotlight community-led gig guides around the country. After narrowly avoiding closure in 2025, SydneyMusic.net has again turned to fundraising. For Hardy, remaining not-for-profit is non-negotiable: “It’s uninfluenceable. You can’t buy a better spot in the gig guide.”
Hardy believes the increasingly creative adaptations speak to deeper structural problems. “Everyone is just chasing the short dollar rather than thinking deeply about what sort of investment is required to rejuvenate. That is such short-term thinking that’s going to further kill music more than it’s already been killed. We really want to be part of a bigger ecosystem that’s thinking about how the change needs to happen,” he says.
For Flanagan, the industry’s willingness to experiment is cause for hope. “Whilst this is the toughest I could ever possibly imagine it being for live music operators, I’m optimistic that we’ll find a way,” he concludes.
