Thoughts from a Train

Over the past few days, my mind has been consumed with doubt about the longevity of Extra Chill as a viable business. Five iterations of Extra Chill Fest over the course of 7 years has led to about the same exact turnout every single time. Hosting a local event with up-and-coming local artists places a low ceiling on the amount of money that can be made.

Sure, the brand has grown, but overall, Extra Chill Fest has been a financial disaster. As I sit here on the Amtrak en route to Phish Mondegreen, I’m thinking that I won’t be doing it again in 2025. It is simply too much time, effort, and money, for an event that has consistently been undersold.

Bands that I have worked with for years are now too big to work with Extra Chill. There is no longer a crop of up-and-coming artists in Charleston who excite the people enough to sell a lot of tickets to an event like this. Artists whom I helped get their first listeners now no longer seem to care about Extra Chill enough to show up at our events and support what we do. Fans who used to read the blog all the time have since moved away, and the overall size of the local music scene in Charleston is shrinking.

This is not to say that Extra Chill is a waste of time and effort. It’s to say that I will no longer be contributing my personal resources to the Charleston music scene. I am done with going out of my way to help other people who cannot be bothered to reciprocate. The local music scene is not a sustainable venture when there are bills to be paid.

I have come to realize that in order for Extra Chill to be successful, we need to think bigger. No matter how noble of a cause it may be, “support the local music scene” is not a strong enough motivator to get a significant number of people to purchase tickets to an event.

Ticket sales are dependent on name recognition, and when you book 10 acts without financial backing outside of ticket sales, there simply isn’t enough money to pay an artist who has the name recognition needed to fill the room. You can spread the word as much as you want, but people knowing about the event is only half the battle. They also need to make the choice to purchase a ticket and attend, which is 90% dependent on the lineup, no matter how much people claim to love Extra Chill.

The popular artists are better off doing their own show, and understandably so. This dilemma increases tenfold when management and booking agents enter the picture, because they are even less willing to collaborate when they are taking a cut of the artist payout.

Ultimately, Extra Chill Fest needs to rest. The brand needs to grow to the point where it can attract sponsorships, and bigger names, before it makes a comeback. I need to re-strategize the editorial process to facilitate this larger reach, which means looking outside of the Charleston music scene to larger scenes.

This is part of my reasoning for moving to Austin, which has a much more sustainable music scene. However, even in Austin, I will likely be trying to expand the brand outside of the walls of the city. In Austin, I believe this will be easier to achieve, since the city has the eyes of music fans all over the country.

If anybody is considering starting a business that is based around a small local arts community, take my word for it. You’ll still be broke in 10 years. It’s fun, but at a certain point, you’ll need to either accept that it’s a hobby, or a non-profit, or you need to expand your approach.

For Extra Chill, it’s time to expand the approach. In the meantime, I’m searching for a new perspective at the Phish Festival.