The Wheatsheaf Hotel On An Industry In Crisis: "At What Point Does The Live Music Ecosystem Collapse?"

At this point in time, it isn’t necessarily controversial to say that the music industry as we know it is in somewhat of a crisis. It seems that the announcements of various venue closures are constantly plaguing our news feeds. Recent studies show that regional live music venues in particular are in the throes of severe personal and financial strain.

In fact, it is estimated that in the five years since the arrival of the COVID-19 pandemic, Australia has lost over 1,300 live music venues and stages.

Thus many music venues are in hazardous positions, subject to the volatile whims of the temperamental economy. Now more than ever, it is crucial that we as music-consumers do our best to support them.

The Wheatsheaf Hotel in Thebarton is a particularly beloved music venue here in South Australia. They are well-renowned for their supportive treatment of up-and-coming local musicians, and for their creatively enlivened atmosphere, a comfortable and fulfilling space for both artists and patrons alike.

So who better to weigh in on the current state of the Australian live music ecosystem than Jade Flavell and Maeve McLoughlin from The Wheatsheaf Hotel?

Many music-lovers, pub goers, and musicians based here in Adelaide see The Wheatsheaf Hotel as one of the safest and most welcoming of local venues. How do you manage to cultivate that atmosphere? How do you think that reputation has come about?

By walking the walk. From the beginning we have been lesbian owned and operated, and we create and maintain the kind of space that we want to exist, the kind of pub we'd like to go to. We are working in the bar every day, we anticipate, deescalate, and do a lot of educating! We have one rule – anyone and everyone is welcome, unless or until you’re a dickhead. Then we step in.  

You have to create the places and relationships you want to exist, and you for sure have to fight to maintain them. Proper, long-lived and actually diverse community building is hard work, and it’s not always as photogenic as people like to think. But the true purpose of a pub is for anyone to walk in and feel welcome – there’s a lot of work that goes into making that simple statement a reality. So we put in the work, and are rewarded by wonderful punters from all over the country, and the world, calling us their local.

It’s not that no trouble ever finds its way to the Wheaty (in fact, because of who we are trouble sometimes goes out of its way to find us) – it’s that we’re not going to let people who want to cause grief get their way. So the short answer is probably sheer bloody-mindedness!

As a pub, how do you navigate the culture of strong alcohol consumption (and substance consumption in general) that permeates the music scene in Adelaide?

The whys and hows of Australia’s attitudes to drinking are more than one venue can unravel, unfortunately. For the way we run our venue, a lot of it is in the prep – we don’t open late into the night, we don’t run happy hours or specials, and we have a mainly seated venue, almost cabaret style, but no bar in the venue space. So we see more listening and respectful crowds who are there for the music, we provide world class drinks lists that encourage enjoyment of social drinking, and we have a very friendly work schedule for our staff, techs, and musicians. We are also fiercely independent and believe in doing as much in house as possible. We manage our band bookings internally and have personal relationships with artists. We brew all our tap beers on site in our own brewery (The Wheaty Brewing Corps), and we produce award-winning beers that can’t be drunk anywhere else. We also have lots of quiet corners, open fires, board games, outdoor seating and rotating food trucks. This attracts a broad range of people already – beer folk who stay for a gig, or live music lovers who try their first Saison and never look back. Our venue is a place to enjoy what you’re drinking and who you’re drinking it with – you’re welcome to get a little merry, even more as long as you take your water when you’re given it.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Wheatsheaf Hotel (@thewheaty)

How do you think venues in general can better protect and support emerging local musicians?

Right now the worry is that there won’t be any venues left for emerging artists to be supported in. To some people’s surprise, we don’t consider other independent venues competition – it really is a rising tide raises all boats situation. The more independent grassroots venues of all shapes and sizes there are, the more chances to play to different audiences, in different rooms with different vibes. The more punters there are out seeing gigs regularly. It just becomes normal to go out and see a band! 

It's a precarious time to be a music venue in Adelaide. How are all of these recent closures making you feel? Do you think there are any solutions? What do you think it says about the state of the arts scene in Adelaide, and in Australia in general?

Seeing so many venues closing across the live music/independent brewery/hospitality spectrum is devastating. We’re losing so much knowledge, work and experience from existing venues and their operators, and it makes it so much harder for new independent operators to start new venues.

Live music and hospitality was severely undervalued throughout COVID, as if art and community and music isn’t at the core of any society worth its salt. After the dust settled the realisation set in that there would not be a bounce back to the ‘good old days’. Changes in habits, online saturation, the cost of living, operational costs and the insurance crisis compounded with the rot in the system that was already there. It was clear that if owner-operators didn’t have a seat at the table grassroots music venues would be closed, sold out and/or consolidated to within an inch of the live music industry’s life…If we didn’t fight for grassroots venues, there might not be any left. In reaction to this, we were a founding member of ILVA (Independent Live Venues Alliance), the first of its kind in Australia, taking inspiration from and working closely with the MVT (Music Venues Trust) in the UK. Many of these issues are not unique to our city, in fact we are seeing a global crisis of a loss of independent venues, and huge barriers to new artists building careers.

The industry is certainly in crisis. There are only a handful of small, independent, owner operated venues left in South Australia – all of these are under stress, and several will be forced to close in the next few months without emergency support. As it stands, the industry is unsustainable. 

What if we lose another venue? At what point does the 'live music ecosystem' collapse?

From a government perspective, true consultation, transparency and equity in funding, valuing local grassroots venues as grassroots venues, and protecting indie venues against vertically-integrated Death Star multinationals (or at least not stacking the decks against us) are vital to protecting what we’ve got, and to enabling new venues to open and flourish in future. We often like to say that if our leadership really valued the arts, there’d be AusKick for musos! It wouldn’t take a budget-breaking injection of funds into the grassroots sector to make a massive difference - and it would come back in spades.

There are very practical things, like the Big Ticket Levy that ILVA has championed, which proposes reinvesting a small amount (say $1 or $2 per ticket) from large and stadium event tickets back into in grassroots venues in recognition of the R&D work we do that underpins the broader industry. Another larger concept is a state-wide planning overlay that protects grassroots venues from the vagaries of local councils and developers. The recent formation of the AMVF (Australian Music Venue Foundation) is a sign that grassroots venues' voices are being taken more seriously, and we're hopeful that some hard action can be taken to save what we've already got before it's too late.

There will never be anything to match being in a room with a live band, on a night that can never be played back, only experienced and remembered.

Without venues of all sizes for artists to play in, cut their teeth in, and build their crowds in, we’ll run out of new local music pretty soon. To a punter, we’d say come out and watch a show, and to a pollie we’d say come buy a pint, and let’s have a chat, before there’s nowhere left for the next big South Aussie act to get their first paid gig.