How to be perfect: music, morality & ethical fatigue

For as long as music has existed, it has been used as a vehicle for political and cultural identity and resistance. Paul Kelly and Kev Carmody’s 1991 song “From little things, big things grow” was written about the Gurindji people’s struggle to claim their land back from colonisers, sparking the Indigenous land rights movement. The Black Eyed Peas song, “Where is the love?”, released originally in 2003, highlights the ongoing negative impact of hate and discrimination, calling for global peace and unity. More recently, 2019 saw Stella Donnelly release “Boys will be boys” which became an anthem for those furthering the #MeToo movement. 

 

Nowadays we live in a society where we have the right to speak up about our values. The differences in this world create such abundance but historically, instead of being celebrated, they have been fronted with violence, aggression and increasing division. 

 

The music community has long been a driving force against the conservative political elite, maybe because creative people tend to prioritise a freedom of expression that lends itself to progressive and forward-thinking. Historically, many of the most influential and groundbreaking advancements in the music scene have been pioneered by anti-establishment movements led by LGBTIQ+, POC and low socio-economic communities. Music was explored by these groups when structural barriers rendered other more traditional aspects of life, such as wealth, career, or equal rights as inaccessible. Parties emerged as a form of a resistance to their own disenfranchisement, creating a safe space for marginalised groups. They were being thrown by minorities, for minorities. That’s the beauty of the music scene, it provides an amazing sense of community for those seeking safe self expression. 

 

Since the 1970s, when the real disco club-wave began, the music industry has turned into a major source of income for many businesses. Now, it is a profit driven, conglomerate funded industry, with a huge market for mass live entertainment events. In 2024, ABC released statistics showing that, on average, Australian festivals cost $3.3million to run and profit approximately $700k. The rise of music industry investments can be largely attributed to the streaming economy as there are more artists and events with a broader reach, thanks to social media. Now more than ever, the music industry promises consistent, high returns that are relatively risk-free. Music will never go out of fashion.

 

In this profit-fuelled society, money holds immense power, impacting our thoughts and behaviours, with a significant impact on social dynamics. We make choices every day about what we want to put our hard-earned coin towards. The nature of living in a cyclical economy gives us this freedom, meaning that whatever we earn, we’re able to put back into the things we care about. Depending on where your money goes, you are investing in that. As an artist, punter and promoter myself, I am proudly feeding this music industry with my time and money because it’s something I believe in. But it is not until recently that I have pondered what I am actually investing in.

 

Let’s delve into some old news now.

 

In January 2025, Boiler Room was sold to Superstruct Entertainment, an enormous, global live entertainment business which owns several transnational music festivals and events. To keep it short, Superstruct is owned by KKR, an investment firm which invests in many day to day brands and companies. Controversially, KKR is currently investing in weaponry in Israel, alongside providing large donations to US politicians who pride themselves as being “Israel’s Loudest Supporter”. In effect, when you buy a ticket to these large scale events, you are funding the beliefs of these companies. 

 

Arguably, Boiler Room has been a pioneer in the electronic music dance scene since 2010. It is widely known and loved. 

 

It’s coming to Melbourne in November 2025. Two of the original headliners have pulled out due to the investments made by KKR and Superstruct. Worldwide, similar patterns have emerged with many artists such as Roza Torenzi, Midland and Julianna Huxtable pulling out of events such as Field Day and Sonar Festival, parallel to the Boycott, Divestment and Sanction (BDS) movement.



Launched in 2005, the BDS movement supports freedom and equality for Palestinians by boycotting businesses that contribute to Israel’s economy and benefit from their occupation. As we all know, Israel has unlawfully occupied Palestinian land and committed crimes against the Palestinian people since 1948. For years, the BDS movement has been very active in opposing  the occupation and has successfully cost Israel approximately $1.3 billion per year. With the current genocide that is occuring in Gaza, this movement has been at the forefront of the media. It presents the everyday person with an opportunity to stand by their views and take a little bit of control of what their money contributes to.  

 

The hyper-visible stance showcased by these artists is compounded by the reach of social media as every decision gets broadcasted and documented. Artists are choosing to vocalise their support for Palestine by putting their money where their beliefs are and subsequently encouraging their fans to do the same. Despite the official BDS movement endorsing Boiler Room (due to their sale to KKR being out of their control), artists and punters have been leading the boycott and protests themselves.



I, myself, was offered a Boiler Room set. As an up-and-coming DJ and producer, this would be the opportunity of a lifetime and I’ll admit it was something I only dreamt about. Turning this down was a difficult decision and some people will not understand why an artist wouldn’t take an opportunity like this. But the truth is, we’re comparing one opportunity for one artist, to the starvation, famine and violence of hundreds-of-thousands of humans. 

 

The unfortunate reality is that when you start to do your research, you may realise it is hard to avoid unethical consumerism. Most things in life will invest into things you don’t stand for, from environmental impacts, war or slavery. Spotify, which has 700 million users, has major investments into Helsing, a German company manufacturing AI-powered military technologies. Fancy a holiday? Virgin Australia and Gold Coast airport are privately owned by Bain Capital and KKR respectively, two of the largest private equity firms that invest in the aerospace and defence industry. Other monumental music corporations in Australia are also owned by similar companies, so what’s going to happen when their investors get as much attention as Boiler Room? 

 

All this begs the question: What is the future of music events and how should artists and fans navigate these challenges? 

 

It’s a big unknown question and the reality is, these parent companies probably won’t change what they invest in. Like climate change, the central trigger for action is ultimately in the hands of the government. Unfortunately, this likely won’t happen due to the monetary value of oil and coal. In the meantime, citizens who believe in this issue might sell their cars, recycle properly or avoid aeroplanes. Similarly, the conglomerate-funded music events will probably continue to run and their investments will continue to lie in areas you don’t believe in. Therefore, it is the agency of the individual to live parallel with their viewpoint. Unfortunately, for the average person, this is as much as we can do. Because really, are these institutions here to enrich local scenes or just grow their business?

 

The progress of this industry depends on independent local event companies to augment our beloved scene. One local event profits X amount, that X amount is invested straight back into the next event. Local, emerging artists are booked, investing into the future of our scene. With more affordable ticket prices and supporting local venues, it keeps the culture vibrant and alive. 

 

As an artist or punter, you have to self assess and decide how to move forward. Maybe you’ll do your research and completely cut out all events that support things you don’t stand for, or maybe you’ll only go to one of the five events that company is putting on. Maybe, as an artist you’ll donate a percentage of your rate to a cause you care about, or you might not at all. 

 

What we do, affects others and the environment we live in. It’s important to try and do the right thing, but when there’s a devil on your shoulder that’s overwhelmed by compassion-fatigue, it can be difficult to live entirely to the most ethical standard.

 

For me, I’m happy to ride my bike everywhere, and most of the time don’t listen to Sticky Fingers and try to have quick showers, but sometimes I can’t be bothered to ride my bike, or I really want to revisit 2014 nostalgia or need to sit in a blazing hot shower for far too long. The reality is, it can be difficult to always be perfect.



Earlier this year, Irish rap-group Kneecap, known to be publicly pro-Palestine and loud with their viewpoint, came out to say that if they said no to every gig that didn’t completely align with their views, they wouldn’t have any gigs. Which begs the question, what’s the point in being a significant artist without a stage? Similarly with the case of Spotify, how are emerging artists supposed to share their music globally with which they can share their political views? This will pose an ongoing challenge for artists. The nature of this cut throat industry requires a widespread audience, created through high accessibility of music and self promotion. In order to advance their career and build a fan base, artists need a big stage. The most effective distribution of an artist and their music is through streaming platforms like Spotify and mass live entertainment events like Boiler Room. Unfortunately, these hold ties to the very structures artists are trying to oppose. 

 

Although I made the choice not to participate in Mebourne’s Boiler Room, once you start digging, there are connections to problematic structures everywhere. I understand that every artist will have a different perspective that is informed by their lived experience. Recognisably, I am a white, privileged woman that will have a different perspective and experience to the next person.

 

It is acknowledged that these issues are dynamic and ever-changing and our decisions will not remain linear. I hope that one day I will have the opportunity to play for Boiler Room under different circumstances. Ultimately, this is the goal of the BDS movement and while it is easy to remain cynical in the face of impenetrable structures of oppression, it is the hope of change that guides my decision. 

 

I’ll admit, I am a bit scared to publish this article because the topics I’m discussing are immensely complex with years of historical context behind them. But I think this conversation is an important one to have no matter the scale. I am entering this discussion with an open mind and a genuine curiosity as to what challenges this situation will bring to the music industry going forward. It is my hope that everyone reading does the same.