HEADER IMAGE Jacq Justice
Like most internet apologies, it started with a Notes App screenshot. “I apologise to people who have been waiting to see me in NYC & DC this weekend at All Things Go, but I am unable to perform,” Chappell Roan confessed on Instagram, explaining that she would not be performing at the two-stop music festival over the weekend. “Things have gotten overwhelming over the past few weeks and I am really feeling it.”
That summer, the musician’s debut album The Rise and Fall of a Midwestern Princess exploded in popularity online – birthing a brand new music star. Big, fun pop anthems, campy costumes, and drag-inspired pale-powdered-skin and cartoonish eye makeup were all her signatures – plus a sharp reputation for speaking up for herself and others about all the injustices that come along with fame in the music industry.
After months of back-to-back, packed festival sets and sold-out shows, Roan’s announcement that she felt overworked and overwhelmed from constant touring and her decision to pull out of All Things Go was met with a wave of outrage online, with some fans exclaiming that she was “not made for the [music] industry”. However, Roan was not alone; artists like Clairo, Lewis Capaldi, and Beabadoobee have also come forward to cancel tour dates, bravely opening up about their poor health and wellness and drawing in similar criticisms from fans.
While there is no excuse for any hateful behaviour on social media, it’s easy to see why non-musicians might not understand the difficult aspects of touring – for decades, the glamorous, cinematic spectacles of live music have long served as inspiration for film, art, and writing. Just see early 00s cult film Almost Famous or 2023’s Emmy-nominated TV show Daisy Jones and the Six, where life on tour is glorified with tales of partying, drugs, sex, and romance.
But – while this may be true in some cases – these representations get a lot wrong. Along with the joy, connection, and creativity shared between fans and their favourite artists, touring musicians right now are all too often met with gruelling conditions, low profit margins, and a lack of mental and physical health support. “Touring is an extreme environment,” explains Phoebe Lunny and Lilly Macieira of Lambrini Girls, a British punk duo known for their sweaty, riotous gigs and playful lyrics clapping back at systems of misogyny, homophobia, and wealth.
Speaking to BRICKS, the band recounts the boredom, monotony, and long, uncomfortable hours on the road which, clashed with high-energy punk shows, often lead to intense instability. “Emotionally, your state can range from ecstatic to total despair. When your world consists of sitting in a van for 5 to 8 hours, only eating petrol station food, then jumping out and navigating a totally new environment and group of people, then performing in front of hundreds or thousands who are clapping and cheering you on and there’s loud music and bright lights on you. It’s disorienting, to say the least.”
Emotionally, your state can range from ecstatic to total despair… It’s disorienting, to say the least.
Lambrini Girls
Witnessing these mental hardships that artists face on tour first-hand, former tour booker and manager-turned-psychotherapist Tamsin Embleton (MA, MBACP) published Touring and Mental Health: The Music Industry Manual, a 600-page guide on how to survive what Embleton describes as “accumulative stress experience” on the road. In the book – which covers particularly difficult aspects of the lifestyle including managing nutrition, the fear of flying, and anxiety – touring is described as a “triple threat” of harm towards artists’ physical and psychological health, as well as their self-care practices.
Meanwhile, rude and inappropriate fan behaviour at gigs has increased dramatically since the pandemic, and if you’ve scrolled through TikTok over the past few years – whether you realised it or not – you’ve probably already seen its negative effects on artists. Take Clairo pleading with men at her concerts to “be respectful” and stop yelling at her, Beabadoobee crying on stage after fans chanted an overused TikTok meme at her, Harry Styles getting injured by an item thrown at his face while on stage, or someone swiping a ring from Billie Eilish’s hand while she was performing.
“We’re all on the same level,” says American indie-rock artist Liza Anne, whose experimental discography highlights the joys and complexities of grief, self-expression, and queerness. “You wouldn’t grab some at the grocery store, so don’t grab me [on stage], please.”
With over a decades-worth of experience on tour – from playing shows with a six-piece band to headlining their own shows, playing solo on stage and opening for artists like Julia Jacklin – Liza tells me about their own highs and lows spent on the road, particularly drawing attention to the financial difficulties that emerging and independent artists might face.
“I think the pandemic did this weird thing where it scraped out the middle and created [classes of artists] that are either completely DIY or the level of touring where you’re absolutely for sure selling out,” they say, explain how fans often can’t afford the top level of artists’ tickets, while smaller artists can’t even break even or are forced to tour constantly because it’s their only source of income. “The facade of it is really wild.”
Speaking to BB6 in January, Brit Award-winning artist Kate Nash spoke to the financial realities of touring, revealing that she lost over $50,000 on her recent North American tour. “I’m selling out shows and I’m playing really decent-sized venues, but it doesn’t cover the costs. We’re getting to a place where it’s just becoming unworkable,” she admits. “Why am I struggling to make it work?”
Similarly, indie-pop musician and Binchtopia podcast host Eliza McLamb took to Instagram in November, noting that she lost over $5,000 on her last tour due to factors like high venue cuts. “I know I talk about this a lot, but I don’t think we should be scared to talk money in music like this cause it’s untenable,” she wrote. “There should be able to be a middle class of artists, but there isn’t. We’re unfortunately creating a world where the only people who can get their shit off the ground for the most part have rich parents or another job.”
It’s like, this is amazing and I’m living my dream… and also my business manager is encouraging me to put $30,000 on a credit card that I guess I’m going to have to pay off.
Liza Anne
According to Liza, these candid conversations have been heavily discussed among artists in green rooms over the past decade. “It’s like, this is amazing and I’m living my dream and also my business manager is encouraging me to put $30,000 on a credit card that I guess I’m going to have to pay off,” they say. “It’s not a new story, but for some reason in the last four years it feels like across the board for artists we’re all kind of like, ‘Wait, what is going on? This did not used to feel this way.’”
So, where do we go from here? Well, most of that lies in the hands of streaming services like Spotify, ticket conglomerates like Ticketmaster, and major labels who profit millions while their own talent suffers. According to most musicians, the answer is simple: put money in the pockets of those who have rightfully earned it – the artists, crews, and cultural spaces keeping the music industry afloat, who are often forced to work without healthcare or liveable wages.
“I would like to see cultural spaces funded adequately… I would like to see ticketing giants regulated and controlled to give more autonomy to artists over ticket prices and to reduce unnecessary ‘admin costs’ for punters, I would like to see fair pay for artists from streaming services,” shares the Lambrini Girls. “This would allow artists to tour more comfortably, with adequate time off in between shows to reduce physical and mental strain, with means to hire crew to help (most bands do at least three jobs) and with means to book adequate accommodation.”
Until these changes are made, however, artists share that it’s the moments of resilience, joy, creativity, and human connection at shows that keep them going. Particularly, Liza Anne recounts when they opened for Julia Jacklin and decided to try an entire set of new material – including reading their poem “The Gay Miracle” – hushing an entire theatre of fans to an emotional, awe-struck silence.
“We could talk for hours about the internal abuse of the industry, the exhaustion of artists, how things used to look, how things are going to look, the internet – it’s all very overwhelming and very deflating,” they tell me. “But the only part that feels truly, consistently rewarding is how it feels to connect with a room of people who are all at one moment deciding to witness something.”
The only part that feels truly, consistently rewarding is how it feels to connect with a room of people who are all at one moment deciding to witness something.
Liza Anne
Continuing, they pass on their advice to newer artists, who may be struggling on tour: “We all understand the feeling of overdrafting your account at a fucking gas station in Arkansas when you have to get to a show, and even if that person understands it from 15 years ago, there’s this camaraderie and familial nature to what we all have gone through because we have to – just lean into the community of it.”
Meanwhile, the artists at the top of the industry are taking matters into their own hands to support emerging voices until major labels step up. In fact, at this year’s Grammy Awards, Chappell Roan used her entire Best New Artist acceptance speech to demand better conditions for artists from major labels – a promise she made to herself for if she ever took the award home.
The next day, Roan pledged $25,000 to Backline, a charity which provides mental health resources for music industry professionals, and Charli XCX, Halsey, and Noah Kahn all followed suit with their own $25,000 donations – a testament to the dedication of artists towards a healthier music industry despite lack of support from industry executives, and perhaps a reiteration of the urgency behind Chappell’s speech.
“Record labels need to treat their artists as valuable employees with liveable wages, health insurance, and protection,” Chappell demanded, placing her Grammy on the floor and staring directly into the camera. “Labels, we’ve got you, but do you got us?” For artists on tour, the question remains unanswered.
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