How Coronavirus Is Bringing the Global Club Scene to a Standstill
Earlier this week, Berlin’s Berghain—a dance club infamous for its anything-goes darkrooms—announced it was canceling all upcoming “self-produced events” and effectively going dark through April 20. At Barcelona’s Sala Apolo, the lights will stay off for at least the next two weeks, its wooden floorboards gleaming dully in the emptiness. San Francisco’s 1015 Folsom is closed for the first time in 35 years. Amsterdam’s De School, New York’s BASEMENT, DC’s U Street Music Hall, Pittsburgh’s Hot Mass—all shuttered.
Around the world, in the face of the coronavirus pandemic, nightclubs and festival venues are calling off events, whether voluntarily or by government decree. And for every locked door and empty dancefloor, there might be a dozen or more DJs not earning a paycheck for the weekend. And those DJs are just the public face of a vast nightlife ecosystem—composed of booking agents, promoters, festival organizers, bar and door staff, cleaners, rideshare drivers—suddenly thrown into disarray by the growing health crisis.
Just a week ago, Seth Horvitz, better known as the experimental techno producer Rrose, was fresh off peak-time slots at Berghain and Sala Apolo, and looking at an itinerary that could make even the most seasoned frequent flyer dizzy: London, Budapest, Paris, Tokyo, Melbourne, Oslo, London, Portland, Detroit, and more, all in the span of two months. But, like many of his colleagues, the London-based artist now finds himself facing an uncertain schedule as club closures and social-distancing policies kick in across Europe, North America, and Asia.
When I first spoke to Horvitz Thursday afternoon, only one of his near-term gigs had been canceled. A few hours later, though, his Sunday appearance at London’s Cafe OTO was crossed out as well, giving him an unexpected weekend at home with his family. “My agency said they’ve gotten so many cancelations across the roster that they’ve almost lost count,” Horvitz tells me. “This seems like just the beginning.”
The story is the same across the world of electronic music—particularly in Europe, where a dynamic network of interconnected club scenes symbolizes the freedom of movement long fostered by low-cost airlines and open borders. Unlike bands, DJs and live electronic performers typically travel alone, and they travel light, with little in the way of gear. The ease and relative economy of air travel, both within the EU and across oceans, means that DJs can hit multiple cities in a given weekend and be back in their own beds by Monday evening. When Friday morning comes, it’s off to the airport to start the cycle all over again.
But as club cancelations and postponements pile up, DJs and electronic musicians are left facing the prospect of a month or more without earnings. And a global patchwork of measures—the UK has resisted banning large events, for instance, while San Francisco has temporarily prohibited all non-essential gatherings of 100 or more—means that many DJs are still uncertain as to which events they can still expect to play. Michael Mayer, DJ and co-founder of the German electronic label Kompakt, currently has upcoming dates in Berlin, Bucharest, Milan, Napoli, and Bern that are all technically planned to go forward, but he isn’t holding his breath. “I don’t expect to have any gigs before May,” he says.
The speed with which the industry has been turned upside down has surprised even veteran players in the scene. On Wednesday, Cara Daley, of San Francisco booking agency Liaison Artists, was scheduling North American tours for Sweden’s Axel Boman and London’s Bradley Zero. “Overnight, I saw half those shows get canceled,” she says. Jo Hunter, of Sheffield’s KLS Bookings, saw 25 of her artists’ international gigs get canceled within the span of just three days.
For Avril Ceballos, of the Barcelona/Berlin booking agency Futura Artists, the warning signs began in February, when she was forced to cancel the Spanish DJ John Talabot’s Asian tour. As various countries in the region began implementing travel restrictions, Talabot’s carefully plotted itinerary began to fall apart. “If he had been stranded somewhere, it would have been a disaster for the whole tour,” Ceballos says. “We saw it coming a month ago, but we didn’t think it was going to come to Europe until a week ago.” Then came Italy’s lockdown, which shuttered schools, businesses, bars, and restaurants. “We had some shows in Italy that started to get canceled, and we realized that it was going to be a domino effect,” Ceballos adds.
The uncertainty of the situation is forcing some agencies and artists to make hard decisions. Ceballos represents a European artist currently on tour in the U.S. who had planned to cross the border for a show in Canada. But under Trump’s travel ban, as a non-citizen who had recently been in Europe, he would no longer be allowed back into the States; he was forced to cancel the Canadian gig. Another one of Ceballos’ artists, leaving Europe for a South American tour, was told that upon arrival in Colombia, she would be put into quarantine for two weeks. The artist canceled the tour.
In these situations, it’s not always clear who is on the hook for the loss. Liaison Artists’ Daley says, “The big problem we’re dealing with as an agency: Is it fair to enforce force majeure? Is a pandemic an act of God? Do we want to get into the nitty-gritty contractual details when we’re all so stressed out?”
Compounding matters is the money that DJs have already sunk into flights and hotels—money that they may end up eating if they can’t secure refunds. “I usually handle my own logistics and always have to shell out for travel,” says Los Angeles electronic producer Josh Eustis of Telefon Tel Aviv. “In a couple of cases in the weeks to come, I’ll be at the mercy of airlines to refund me, as I really don’t think promoters can cover this without losing their asses too.”
The situation underscores the financial precariousness of the lives of many DJs, particularly at a time when the money made off of recorded music is not enough to subsist on. “Ultimately, it’s been a wake-up call for me,” says the New York electronic musician and label proprietor Anthony Naples. “I was looking for a reason to find a more stable income, and this kick-started my search for that next step.” Perko, a Scottish artist signed to tastemaking Glasgow label Numbers, agrees. “There needs to be some systematic change for self-employed workers and those in the zero-hours gig economy,” he says. “Universal basic income now!”
That precariousness is not limited to individual musicians. Some agents who asked not to be identified say that they’re concerned their company would not survive. “This will have a huge impact on our industry,” says KLS Bookings’ Hunter, who handles rising artists like Australia’s Roza Terenzi and London’s Iona. “For small agencies, artists, promoters, and venues, it will signify the end of business.”
As some governments delay implementing definitive clampdowns on sizeable crowds, it’s up to artists, agencies, and promoters to make difficult decisions that balance their own economic needs with the public’s greater good. Futura’s Ceballos says, “There should be an ethical responsibility where we say, ‘We’d rather stop everything for two weeks, see how things evolve, and hopefully this doesn’t reach the summer.’ Because if this reaches summer, we’re all properly fucked. That’s going to be a catastrophe.”
But some agents remain optimistic. Italy’s Alessia Avallone, who represents Huerco S., Gigi Masin, and David August, has anxiously watched the situation in Naples, where her family members are currently living under strict quarantine. Though prohibited from going to work or congregating in public, Napolitans have still found ways to connect with each other. “People are gathering on their balconies and playing music together,” she says. “What I am learning from Italy is that, in times like this, we can discover a deeper sense of humanity.”
Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated that San Francisco banned gatherings of more than 50 people. In fact that figure applied only to city-owned facilities. Since publication, San Francisco has ordered the cancellation of all “non-essential” events and gatherings of 100 or more people. In the same article, 1015 Folsom was identified as a gay club; it is not.
Originally Appeared on Pitchfork
