Last week, we laid it out for venues: if you can’t offer artists the bare minimum — working sound, working toilets, and a shred of hospitality — you’re not ready to host live music.
But this relationship goes both ways.
Cape Town’s scene only works when artists show up just as ready, equipped, and professional as the venues that host them. You want to be treated like a pro? Then act like one.
Imagine being in debt for a festival ticket. That’s the reality now; we’re buying vibes on lay-by and financing joy like it’s a washing machine. This is the reality for many South Africans who’ve started financing not just essentials, but enjoyment. In Cape Town, with its skyline of rising costs and shrinking dreams, even a night of music comes with a payment plan.
You see the poster. You send it to your friend with a “This looks cool!” And then… nothing. No ticket bought, no commitment made. Maybe you’ll decide on the day. Maybe the weather will suck. Maybe you’re broke. Or maybe, like so many Capetonians, you’re waiting to see if “something better” pops up.
Welcome to Cape Town’s last-minute ticket culture—where hesitation isn’t just a personal habit, it’s becoming a collective obstacle to a thriving live music scene.
Every album is “a triumph.” Every gig “an unforgettable night.” If you read most music journalism today, you’d be forgiven for thinking we’re living through a golden age of perfection. But we’re not—we’re just not being honest. Music journalism has gotten too soft, and it’s failing the very people it’s meant to serve.
