Are music venues as valuable as houses – and can we prove it?

An economic powerhouse? The George Tavern in London's East End. Image: Dan Kitwood/Getty.

It is well documented that London has lost over a third of its grassroots music venues since 2007. One of the reasons given for this phenomenon is that, in our current economic climate and planning framework, venues are market failures.

What that means is that the value of a venue in London simply isn't comparable to that of the flats that could be built on its site. A venue worth £300,000 could be converted into 6 or 8 flats, each worth as much as the venue itself.

For a landowner in these circumstances, it is difficult to provide an economic argument to retain the venue (or art gallery, or rehearsal space, or comedy club, or...). And with our planning system prioritising housing over everything else, those flats are easy to develop, sell and profit from.


And yet, our councils, government and property developers all know that the cultural value of a grassroots music venue – or independent theatre, or cinema, or art gallery for that matter – can make an area desirable. One of the key reasons Hackney is one of London's fastest growing boroughs is its night time offer.

We can take this argument further. What if a venue was as valuable to the landowner as the aforementioned flats? What if, when a venue was supported, those businesses and residences around it would benefit economically? Land value would increase; more traders would open.

To argue this case, over a few cups of coffee a colleague of mine and I dissected his venue in Dalston.  Here’s our take.

Running the numbers

This venue sees 234 people go through its doors each day, each spending an average of £10 per head on entry fees, alcohol and food. It’s open seven days a week, and has a capacity of 250.

Let’s argue that, of these people, 60 per cent live locally. Half of those walked or cycled, while the other half took public transport to get to and from this venue, at a cost of £2.30 each way. The other 40 per cent commuted from other parts of the city. Of these, we estimate that 80 per cent took the tube and 20 per cent took taxis at a cost of £15 per ride.

Let's assume that one-third of these 234 people ate out, either before or after visiting this venue, each spending another £15 per head. On top of this, this venue contributes £64,000 each year in PAYE, alcohol duty, license costs and business rates to the exchequer. In addition, it pays £5,000 per month rent to the landowner, or £60,000 per year.

Using our iPhone calculators, we tallied up that his venue contributes £694,000 to the local economy each year, outside of its independent takings as a business. Include those, and the amount rises to £1.3m.

Furthermore, this venue employs 12 people at the London living wage. In total, this venue is worth, theoretically speaking, as much as £2m a year to the local and national economy.

And this is one venue. On Kingsland High Street in Dalston, there are half a dozen of these. Across Hackney, there are dozens.

Let’s compare this with the value of one flat in a local development in Dalston. A two-bed is retailing at £450,000, a price the developer will earn once. Council taxes and other fees on such a property, on average, add a further £2,500 to £4,000 to the local economy, not to mention another £4,000 to £6,000 in ancillary costs like utilities and other services.


The space this venue inhabits could accommodate perhaps four new properties, which would net a developer around £2m on the sales. That, though, is a one off return, not something that will be pumped into the economy year after year.

Our calculations are inevitably rough – but they merit further investigation. What they show is that the term "value" has different definitions, depending on the party doing the valuing. To a developer, building and then exiting a project is of more value that renting out equal space to a leaser to open a venue, regardless of art form.

But what if this venue, or all six on the High Street, closed? We would lose secondary and tertiary value: the service providers supporting the venue, its rate and PAYE bill, the value of the music (or art, or theatre) being incubated and of course, the space’s cultural value. What's more, the saleability of the flats would be impacted, because there would be fewer things to do in Dalston.

And with business rates returning to councils now, it is in local authorities’ best interests to understand and capitalise on the economies businesses create, both inside and outside their doors.

So when we look at that value of our grassroots music venues, our nightclubs – our music incubators, as they should be referred to – let’s value them both culturally and economically. If we measure their value properly, they are worth their weight in pounds and pence.

Dr Shain Shapiro is the managing director of Sound Diplomacy, a consultancy specialising in music cities and market development. 

 
 
 
 

Budget 2017: Philip Hammond just showed that rejecting metro mayors was a terrible, terrible error

Sorry, Leeds, nothing here for you: Philip Hammond and his big red box. Image: Getty.

There were some in England’s cities, one sensed, who breathed a sigh of relief when George Osborne left the Treasury. Not only was he the architect of austerity, a policy which had seen council budgets slashed as never before: he’d also refused to countenance any serious devolution to city regions that refused to have a mayor, an innovation that several remained dead-set against.

So his political demise after the Brexit referendum was seen, in some quarters, as A Good Thing for devolution. The new regime, it was hoped, would be amenable to a variety of governance structures more sensitive to particular local needs.

Well, that theory just went out of the window. In his Budget statement today, in between producing some of the worst growth forecasts that anyone can remember and failing to solve the housing crisis, chancellor Philip Hammond outlined some of the things he was planning for Britain’s cities.

And, intentionally or otherwise, he made it very clear that it was those areas which had accepted Osborne’s terms which were going to win out. 

The big new announcement was a £1.7bn “Transforming Cities Fund”, which will

“target projects which drive productivity by improving connectivity, reducing congestion and utilising new mobility services and technology”.

To translate this into English, this is cash for better public transport.

And half of this money will go straight to the six city regions which last May elected their first metro mayor elections. The money is being allocated on a per capita basis which, in descending order of generosity, means:

  • £250m to West Midlands
  • £243 to Greater Manchester
  • £134 to Liverpool City Region
  • £80m to West of England
  • £74m to Cambridgeshire &d Peterborough
  • £59m to Tees Valley

That’s £840m accounted for. The rest will be available to other cities – but the difference is, they’ll have to bid for it.

So the Tees Valley, which accepted Osborne’s terms, will automatically get a chunk of cash to improve their transport system. Leeds, which didn’t, still has to go begging.

One city which doesn’t have to go begging is Newcastle. Hammond promised to replace the 40 year old trains on the Tyne & Wear metro at a cost of £337m. In what may or may not be a coincidence, he also confirmed a new devolution deal with the “North of Tyne” region (Newcastle, North Tyne, Northumberland). This is a faintly ridiculous geography for such a deal, since it excludes Sunderland and, worse, Gateshead, which is, to most intents and purposes, simply the southern bit of Newcastle. But it’s a start, and will bring £600m more investment to the region. A new mayor will be elected in 2018.

Hammond’s speech contained other goodies for cites too, of course. Here’s a quick rundown:

  • £123m for the regeneration of the Redcar Steelworks site: that looks like a sop to Ben Houchen, the Tory who unexpectedly won the Tees Valley mayoral election last May;
  • A second devolution deal for the West Midlands: tat includes more money for skills and housing (though the sums are dwarfed by the aforementioned transport money);
  • A new local industrial strategy for Greater Manchester, as well as exploring “options for the future beyond the Fund, including land value capture”;
  • £300m for rail improvements tied into HS2, which “will enable faster services between Liverpool and Manchester, Sheffeld, Leeds and York, as well as to Leicester and other places in the East Midlands and London”.

Hammond also made a few promises to cities beyond England: opening negotiations for a Belfast City Deal, and pointing to progress on city deals in Dundee and Stirling.


A city that doesn’t get any big promises out of this budget is – atypically – London. Hammond promised to “continue to work with TfL on the funding and financing of Crossrail 2”, but that’s a long way from promising to pay for it. He did mention plans to pilot 100 per cent business rate retention in the capital next year, however – which, given the value of property in London, is potentially quite a big deal.

So at least that’s something. And London, as has often been noted, has done very well for itself in most budgets down the year.

Many of the other big regional cities haven’t. Yet Leeds, Sheffield, Nottingham and Derby were all notable for their absence, both from Hammond’s speech and from the Treasury documents accompanying it.

And not one of them has a devolution deal or a metro mayor.

(If you came here looking for my thoughts on the housing element of the budget speech, then you can find them over at the New Statesman. Short version: oh, god.)

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and also has a Facebook page now for some reason.

Want more of this stuff? Follow CityMetric on Twitter or Facebook