Promoting In North America Is Not What You Think
Three underground promoters give their input on what it’s really like to throw a party in post-COVID North America.
Written By Guest Writer Alex Berryhill
Throwing parties might sound glamorous — big lineups, great sound, packed dancefloors. But behind the scenes, it’s paperwork, politics, and trying to hit a bar minimum. On top of all the logistics, there’s the uphill battle of dealing with high artist fees, economic pressure, and a crowd that isn’t always easy to lock in.
We spoke to three underground promoters to get more perspective on what it’s really like to throw a party in post-COVID North America. Two of them - San Francisco’s Direct to Earth, and Portland’s Spend the Night, have been in the game for over a decade. The third, No Sleep, is a nascent party that takes risks on barely-known, emerging techno artists, running parties on a razor-thin budget in small DIY spaces in the Boston area. These conversations show how much of a tightrope walk this work can be — trying to keep things financially afloat without compromising the vision.
Every Dollar Counts
"For most promoters, it probably has become more difficult to break even," said Direct To Earth’s Max Gardner. Even seasoned operators face risk. "We booked some really big lineups at the beginning of 2024... but we got hammered pretty hard. The ones we thought would kill it did okay, but not enough to offset the losses."
Direct to Earth
These risks are compounded when dealing with licensed venues, due to venue overhead, such as staffing, rent, insurance, bar stock, and administrative costs. They often require room rental fees, bar sale guarantees, in addition to the lighting and sound upgrades necessary to accommodate the discerning tastes of techno fans. When dealing with these venues, Gardner notes that you’re taking on all the risk as the promoter, while the venue has most of its bases covered (though that doesn’t guarantee the success of a venue as it’s becoming increasingly difficult to sustain one).
While underground venues may offer more freedom (and potential financial upside with promoters taking 100% of the door and bar), it’s not without its pitfalls. In this scenario, the promoter is responsible for everything, including the time required to book, set up, and manage the party. "You also have to stock and staff the bar, staff security, staff door people, bring in lighting, sound... you have to do all of it," Gardner said. "It’s more risk, but the bar sales can help, depending on what kind of show it is."
For smaller parties like No Sleep that don’t have the overhead of booking a headliner (and delivering gear and sound worthy of their stature), they are still at the mercy of limited venue availability that matches the aesthetic they are trying to curate. In Boston, No Sleep’s proprietor, Trevor [last name redacted], rents DIY spaces that typically hold 80-90 people. One space charged him $930 for 7 hours, which also included time spent setting up. He also gave an example of one that was only feasible after he traded a subwoofer for rent. He notes, “If I was to rent that venue with cash, the numbers wouldn’t have worked since the price I was quoted was a thousand, while the capacity was 80.”
No Sleep
Portland’s Spend The Night, run by Ben Fuller, typically does its shows inside more formal spaces. He says these spaces often charge flat rental fees determined by the venue's size, ranging from $500 - $6,000. Additionally, some spaces tack on per-ticket surcharges or require bar sales minimums.
One of the biggest question marks? The bar. With more people skipping booze altogether, sales don’t always reflect turnout. As more attendees prioritize sobriety or alternative substances, bar sales fall short. "People don’t drink like they used to," Gardner said. "We’ll have double the turnout of a tech house party, but their bar sales will beat ours by thousands."
Fuller, who has worked as both a promoter and a venue booker, understands the balancing act. He's seen events with strong attendance still get bumped from Saturday slots because bar sales didn't meet expectations. "The job of a touring DJ is like you're a traveling alcohol salesman," he said, paraphrasing a well-known DJ whose name eludes him at the time. "I get that this is part of the ecosystem." His close relationships with venue owners make him acutely aware of the financial pressures they face, such as expensive rent, staffing, and dwindling alcohol consumption among younger generations. “I have a vested interest in [venue’s] success and them being able to stay open,” he says.
Spend The Night
Booking Realities
While headliners often drive ticket sales, booking them doesn't guarantee success. For Gardner, even seemingly sure bets can underperform. He reflects, “On some nights you sell a shit ton of pre-sales you’re like, ‘Oh my god, we’re finally going to make money,’ and then the door ends up being hella slow. But then there’s nights where the pre-sale outlook isn’t so great... and then the door does amazing. It’s unpredictable.”
Trevor acknowledged that name recognition can help, but he’s built No Sleep around a completely different ethos. "I just want to keep booking people who aren't necessarily well-known," he said. "I try to show people why it doesn't matter if you don't know who this person is. At No Sleep, Trevor curates lineups rooted in personal taste and under-the-radar talent. He promotes unfamiliar names by sharing mixes and productions, and trusts his audience to engage with the curation.
Agent Games and Fee Creep
All of the promoters who worked with agents expressed a good relationship, but they did highlight the pressures created by rising fees, especially when larger markets distort local expectations.
"Some European agents don’t recognize that Denver or Seattle or San Francisco are smaller communities." However, he also noted that many artists and agents in techno remain understanding: "Generally I think all the agents and artists are open to more flexible payment structure, within reason. Of course, they all have their limits."
He emphasized that context matters. "In the U.S., they might not make as much as they do during the summer European festival season. But they want to support these communities too”
Gardner isn’t interested in chasing inflated offers. "Some of the headliners that play from abroad end up playing in America to break even... but they know once they tour the U.S., they’ll go back to Europe with increased fees."
Fuller works with a small network of agents who understand Portland’s scale. "A lot of these people I’ve been working with for over a decade now," he said. "They know Portland is not a large market." This allows him to negotiate fees with them that are reflective of the demand.
Tension and Collaboration
Local politics often dictate how collaborative a scene can be. In Portland, Fuller says promoters actively coordinate to avoid overlap. “If two people are working on something big the same day, one of them will often say, ‘Hey, I’m not going to do that night so the focus can be on your thing.’”
Trevor has had a different experience. “When I started doing events, I was hearing things about another promoter trying to sabotage my event,” he said. “There’s a lot of weird stuff people do.”
He doesn’t think bigger promoters owe smaller ones anything, but he does hope for a more symbiotic relationship. “There’s some people I have a good relationship with. We’ve supported each other a lot,” he said, pointing out that a promoter he barely knew once lent him $1000, without collateral. “But there’s a lot of resentment, people trying to sabotage each other.”
What People Don’t See
Most people think that if a party looks packed, the promoter’s cashing in — but that’s usually not the case. “It’s easy to go to a show and see 50–100 people and think the promoter’s making a lot of money,” said Trevor. “But there are so many costs.”
Gardner was more blunt: “It’s not a good life choice. I’ve had a lot of fun, but there are much better choices you can make in your life.”
When asked if they’d ever had second thoughts, none wavered. “I’m not saying I don’t like it,” Gardner clarified. “But just know what you’re getting into.”
If They Could Fix One Thing
Trevor wishes Boston had more affordable, non-restrictive venues. “Also,” he added, “if every smoke alarm could learn the difference between smoke and fog, that’d be great.”
Fuller wants to decouple music from bar metrics. “Success shouldn’t be judged only on how many drinks got sold,” he said. “Sometimes you had a great event and the bar was just slow.”
Gardner’s solution is both practical and symbolic: “I’ve been telling every bar, you need an espresso machine.”
But They Endure
If you were to sum up the job of a techno promoter in one word, it would be endurance - the endurance to plan and execute a night knowing that, in many cases, it will be a financial loss. But for the ones that do, it’s not about the money - it’s about the experience that they give others as well as being one of the few in the country bringing this genre to the people.
Keep an eye out for the upcoming events for Spend The Night and Direct to Earth
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Alex Berryhill | No Sleep | Spend The Night | Direct To Earth