Does the local scene have a booking problem? Settle in. It’s opinion piece time.
Before the pandemic, Gauteng was buzzing with live music venues, many of which hosted mixed-genre shows. Lineups used to feature everyone from The Plastics to Shadowclub to The Narrow, but COVID-19 changed all that.
Emalyth’s Sash Northey explains: “The economy tanked, preventing us from being able to afford big venues and infrastructure, and preventing us from paying the acts accordingly too.”
But the loss of venues isn’t the only factor that has impacted how shows look.
Jimmy Glass of Ruff Majik made a keen observation: “Gauteng has a preference for heavier sounding music.”
It’s a point that resonates. Some years ago, I spoke with Caroline Hillary, and she shared a similar view. She also spoke about the loss of important venues, those crucial spaces where young music enthusiasts could discover new sounds and bands could develop.
“I spent my twenties and thirties in clubs and I adored having a regular Friday and Saturday hang that I could go to, even alone, and find people I knew and loved. Without venues the bands can’t perform and their exposure is reliant only on the noise that they can create on social media,” she says.
“It’s less real these days, unfortunately,” continues Hillary. “There are also substantially less punk-pop bands these days. The sound has disappeared almost entirely from Joburg. Cape Town still has a few, but it’s nothing like in the early ‘2000s.”
These changes have perhaps created an air of caution.
Brandon Render from Middle Grounds explains: “A lot of promoters like to play it safe and stick to one genre because the scene is so small that when you add a band to a lineup that doesn’t quite fit with the other bands, well some people just won’t buy tickets.”
There’s a certain comfort in familiarity, and from a fan perspective, Sash explains, “I’m not going to buy a concert ticket to a five-band line up if I only like one act. What am I gonna do the rest of the time?” Fair point. But this caution leaves newer acts struggling to break through.
Danny Ylang puts it plainly: “It’s a bit harder to approach the scene and get shows unless you’re in the bracket of the popular sound.”
So, the question becomes: are mixed shows the answer to curbing sameness, and giving newer bands opportunities? Let’s examine mixed genre show instances that have worked.
A great place to start is James Deacon’s Secret Party. The series of shows offers something for everyone, from metal to pop to R&B. The show puts different artists in front of an audience and lets them decide what works.
Deacon says, “The stigma against diversifying comes from fear, and to be honest, in the music industry, if you lead with fear, you chose the wrong career.”
The Secret Party doesn’t stand alone in mixed-genre bookings. Planet Karavan and Boogy Central have also successfully ventured into similar territory. The prevalence of mixed shows is on the rise—and that’s a good thing — but what about balancing preference and making space for different communities?
Render highlights the occasional exclusion of heavier bands from certain spaces: “There is 100% an expectation to fit into a certain mould if you want to play mainstream stages. Being in a metal band has already closed a lot of doors for us. The one thing I can think of to break down these walls is to keep mixing the alternative bands with the mainstream ones at shows, until it exposes more people to the possibility of something more.”
Interestingly, Sash shares a similar sentiment, from the other side of the equation: “Being a metalhead and metal promoter, when there are mixed genres events, it tends to be the metal bands—and fans—who get the short stick. Festivals will book one token metal band, make them play the afternoon of the first day at some shitty time and think metal heads will really just buy tickets to their rave. We won’t. We don’t feel catered for.”
So maybe the central issue isn’t just about audience preference, but rather about finding creative ways to organise shows that genuinely represent the variety of talent within the scene, and respect each genre’s audience.
What’s a possible way forward? “Taste breakers” might be the future.
Shifts in musical style serve as an effective way to add variety and prevent the feeling of repetition. And they’re not the only approach. Various venues and promoters are trying different strategies. Festivals like Mieliepop, last year’s seemingly odd booking at Ramfest with Middle Grounds, Mosh Mallow and Matthew Mole, along with Boogy Central and Planet Karavan have proven that bringing together artists from different backgrounds and musical styles is viable.
Sash acknowledges the success of events like Ramfest: “Take Ramfest, where you can see Fokofpolisiekar, Jack Parrow and Sunken State on the same lineup.” But she emphasises production values as crucial to this success: “The production is extremely important, because even a band of a genre I don’t like can look cool with good sound and fancy lights.”
Mia van der Heever from Planet Karavan explains their philosophy: “I think the premise that genres can’t mix is limiting in a scene as small as ours. It doesn’t do much for exposing anyone to new music.”
This approach, of course, involves some risk. Geoff Stewart of Dub Collective elaborates: “Younger generations consume music more fluidly, they’re playlist-driven rather than genre-loyal. This opens doors for cross-genre experimentation, but it also means shorter attention spans. The challenge is keeping things engaging without losing the deeper cultural roots of a genre.”
Are we willing to step outside our comfort zones, even slightly, to enrich our local music scene? No one’s asking you to abandon your favorite bands, but just to occasionally venture beyond familiar sounds. Who knows? Your next musical obsession might be waiting at a show you’d typically skip.
This doesn’t mean specialised spaces catering to specific communities are problematic. Quite the opposite—they’re vital. The key lies in thoughtful curation, which can occasionally bridge different worlds.
The challenge for promoters is finding those intersectional points—creating lineups that honour genre traditions whilst occasionally introducing audiences to something unexpected. For fans, it means being willing to arrive early, stay late, and attend that festival with one band you love and seven others you’ve never heard before.
