Independent Festivals Vs The Giants
- Steven Hesketh
- 4 days ago
- 4 min read

There’s a conversation happening in festivals right now that people don’t always see from the outside, because from the outside it still looks like glitter, headline acts, and a big weekend out.
But behind the scenes, the gap between independent festivals and the giants is real, and it isn’t just about who’s got the coolest poster or the biggest name at the top of the lineup. It’s about infrastructure. It’s about leverage. It’s about who’s plugged into the whole live music machine and who’s building it from scratch every single year.
When a festival sits under a major operator like Live Nation or AEG, it comes with built-in advantages that independents just don’t have access to. Live Nation owns Ticketmaster, which is basically the biggest ticket marketplace on the planet. AEG has AXS. That matters because it changes how people discover events.
I can scroll on Ticketmaster and instantly see who’s coming to a venue near me. I can stumble across a show, click twice, and I’m in. Most independent festivals don’t live inside that ecosystem. They’re selling tickets on their own websites, pushing through their own mailing lists, their own socials, their own ads, their own relationships. That’s not a minor difference. That’s the difference between being in the shop window on the busiest street in town, and trying to get people to come find your independent store down a side road because they love what you stand for.
Then there’s the booking power. The big operators have reputation, reach, and relationships that make the “best of the best” easier to secure. They’re often dealing across portfolios, routes, venues, tours, it’s a bigger chessboard.
Independents don’t have that. Independents are out there scouting, grafting, taking punts, building relationships with emerging artists, and giving new music scenes a platform to grow. And honestly, that’s where so much of the magic comes from. Independent festivals are often the place where you see someone before they’re everywhere. They’re the place that gives artists a shot, and gives audiences that feeling of discovery, not just consumption.
And the money side is brutal. Big festivals have bigger budgets, bigger safety nets, and a bigger ability to absorb risk. If an independent festival has a rough year, that can be existential. It’s not just “oh well, we’ll try again next year.” It can mean real personal financial risk, real sleepless nights, real pressure, because independents are often putting in their own time and their own money and their own energy to make it happen. The public sees a weekend. The team behind an independent festival sees a full year of planning, negotiating, rebuilding, and praying nothing major goes wrong.
That’s why I care so much about this, because I see it up close with Deva Fest. I see how much time goes into it. I see how many conversations happen that no one ever hears about. The calls, the planning, the “could we make this work?”, the “what if we did this differently?”, the last-minute problem-solving, the constant balancing act between making it incredible and making it viable. And I also see what makes it special, because it isn’t just the lineup. It’s the community spirit stitched into the whole weekend.
We don’t build Deva Fest like a corporate machine. We build it like a community pulling together. We’re not just picking suppliers off a spreadsheet. We’re having conversations with local businesses and local organisations and asking them to be part of it. Chester Zoo. AmaSing. Nelly’s Nest. People and organisations that actually mean something to local families. Our traders are packed with the best of Cheshire, Foxxy Foods, The Big Fat Greek, Chow’s Eating House, local ice cream, all those little details that make it feel like it belongs here. Even our bars being run by Chester Rooftop Social, that matters. It’s not just “a bar.” It’s a local business showing up, bringing their vibe, bringing their people, and making the weekend feel like a proper Chester-and-around-here celebration. It becomes a weekend where local businesses aren’t on the sidelines watching money fly out of the area; they’re in the middle of it, creating it, benefiting from it, proud of it.
And that’s the bit I never want to lose. Because if one company owned every festival, we’d slowly end up with festivals that feel the same. Same format. Same sponsors. Same look. Same “approved” experience. It’s not that those festivals would be bad some of them are incredible. Live Nation and AEG put on massive shows for a reason. They’re successful because they’re good at what they do. This isn’t a “big company = villain” rant, even if I’m laughing because I can hear myself starting to sound like it. They’re not the enemy. They’re part of the landscape, and they’ve raised the bar in plenty of ways.
But we cannot pretend the landscape stays healthy if we only leave room for one type of festival to survive.
Independent festivals are where the weird ideas happen. They’re where the local flavour stays alive. They’re where families come back year after year not just because of the big artists, but because it feels like theirs. It feels like freedom. It feels like something made with care rather than something rolled out. And if we want live music to keep evolving, if we want new talent to keep coming through, new events to keep being born, new “success stories” to keep happening, then we have to keep independents alive long enough to become those stories.
So yes, give flowers to the giants for what they do well. But also back the independents, because they’re not just “smaller festivals.” They’re the engine room. They’re the cultural heartbeat. They’re the ones building something that can’t be copied and pasted, because it’s rooted in place, people, and pride.
If you love a local festival, don’t just post about it when you’re there. Buy the ticket early. Bring your mates. Talk about it. Support the traders. Share the lineup. Treat it like something worth protecting, because it is. And if we make enough room for independent festivals to thrive, we don’t just keep variety in the market, we keep the soul in it.




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