Play First: Creative Solidarity In An Age Of Upheaval
A generation ago, shifts in underground culture were invariably rooted in a distinct time and place. The evolution of baile funk on the back streets of Rio’s favelas, the vogueing scene in New York queer clubs, or the birth of grime in East London tower blocks were all hyperlocal cultural moments, defined by a specific cultural community’s physical location.
Those rules no longer apply. Where artists once moved things forward by connecting locally, then using pre-existing platforms like FM radio and independent distribution to spread the word, today’s cutting-edge culture tends to be the reverse: geographically diffuse and platform-specific.
This is partly a reaction to an increasingly commodified and centralised cultural industry, with growing frustration among artists and audiences with market leaders such as Ticketmaster and Spotify. True cultural innovation means building alternative, grassroots community platforms.
Earlier this week, a collective of London-based artists and organisers announced Gel, an event-listing and ticketing platform focused on supporting DIY scenes, rather than generating returns for investors. Established as a Community Interest Company (CIC), with transparent fees and profits reinvested into the platform, Gel offers artists and promoters an opportunity to sidestep mainstream platforms which don’t align with their values.
The events listed on Gel are diverse in terms of style and audience, including a community iftar in Cambridge Heath, a queer sauna party in Peckham, and a more straightforward jungle rave in Lewisham. What connects them isn’t sound or neighbourhood, but a sense of being grounded in community principles, and trying to do things differently.
Creative collaboration and collective joy, both critical themes in our Play First research, are central to this. Ask most promoters or venues whether working with Ticketmaster or posting on Instagram is enjoyable for them, and you’ll probably get looked at like you’re insane. Fans’ frustrations with hidden booking fees, dynamic pricing and endless doomscrolling feel similarly self-evident.
In that context, something as simple as Gel being transparent about the fees it charges and where that money goes can feel revolutionary: aligning the platform with the inclusive principles of the music and fostering more meaningful connections between artists and audiences.
Gel is merely the latest example of this trend. In recent years, Subvert has emerged as an alternative to online music stores like Bandcamp, with Nina Protocol and Qobuz doing the same for streaming platforms. Palestinian-led boycotts of festivals owned by the US hedge fund KKR have prompted artists and consumers to question the commercial decisions they make and the ethical consequences. One striking feature of many of these conversations is their international nature: the idea that grassroots scenes in São Paulo and Stockport have more in common with each other than they have with their more mainstream neighbours.
The reality, however, is that grassroots doesn’t always have to be synonymous with operating at a loss to the point that work remains unpaid. The nature of arts and culture-based work often means lower wages, particularly in bigger cities. All too often, grassroots initiatives are self-funded due to a lack of resources available through funding and grants, which would help create a more sustainable ecosystem. And increasingly, we’re seeing grassroots collectives rely on brand sponsorship, which is often one-off and can alter expectations around what’s achievable.
Unfortunately, too many collectives, initiatives and organisations rely on bigger institutions, but this doesn’t create a trickle-down economic effect that benefits the wider ecosystem. Platforms such as Boiler Room, Bandcamp, and NTS began as grassroots, community-led organisations that championed underground music culture. However, at some point in their respective histories, they scaled up, grew and attracted investment, which can be necessary for a business to survive. But when it’s to the detriment of the values these organisations claim to purport.
The looming question is how sustainable these new models could be. Bold initiatives such as Resonate or Aslice, which sought to bring a more equitable, grassroots-led approach to streaming and live music royalties, respectively, have folded in recent years. Dismantling the status quo and building something better in its place is a tall and time-consuming order.
But while individual platforms might come and go, the sense of experimentation, playfulness and cross-border cultural unity which underpins these shifts isn’t going anywhere. For brands wanting to tap into cutting-edge culture, engaging positively with innovative community-focused cultural platforms that remain people-led and not-for-profit remains critical.