When Pedro Carvalho tries to book a rising artist at the Far Out Lounge in South Austin, he sometimes offers substantially more money than larger promoters and still loses the show.
The reason, he said, has less to do with price than access: Artists often stick with Live Nation-connected tours and venues in hopes of landing bigger bookings and festival slots later. That dynamic was at the center of a federal antitrust case that found Live Nation and Ticketmaster operated as an illegal monopoly, a ruling that could reshape how concerts are booked nationwide, including in Austin.
“They have these strong grips and holds on these agencies, and they say, ‘If you [don’t play] a Live Nation venue, then you are not gonna play one of the Live Nation festivals,’” said Carvalho, who co-owns Far Out Lounge. “So we can’t compete even with dollars.”
The lawsuit, brought by the U.S. Department of Justice and a coalition of states, now moves into a remedies phase that could determine whether Live Nation must change how it operates. Potential outcomes could include limits on its control of venues and ticketing, or requirements to alter how it contracts with artists and promoters.
Live Nation has already indicated it plans to appeal the ruling, though any challenge would likely come after a judge determines penalties, setting up what could be a prolonged legal fight.
For independent promoters and venue operators in Austin, that timeline dampens any expectations of sweeping, business-altering changes anytime soon.
Live Nation has become deeply embedded across the live event ecosystem. The company, which merged with Ticketmaster in 2010, operates as a promoter, venue owner and ticketing provider, giving it influence over multiple stages of how shows are booked and sold.
For smaller companies, that reach can be difficult to work around. Randy Cohen, founder of Austin-based ticket broker TicketCity, said his company once tried to compete directly as a ticket marketplace but eventually moved away from that approach. It now focuses on buying blocks of tickets and reselling them on other platforms.
“It’s a deep-pocket game,” Cohen said, describing how Ticketmaster can afford to spend far more on ads to get customers to click and buy through them. “We lost that battle.”
In Austin, Live Nation’s influence often shows up not as a direct barrier, but as a factor in how tours are built from the start, shaping which venues artists play and which promoters get access to them.
Graham Williams, co-owner of the regional promoter Resound Presents, said artists and their agents frequently weigh not just offers to play individual shows, but how those decisions affect access to larger tours and festivals.
“If they don’t do a show with them, they might not be able to get on one of those festivals or get on some of those other dates that they’re wanting to do,” Williams said. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing type deal.”
That dynamic can limit which artists independent promoters are able to book, even in a market like Austin with a large number of venues operating at different sizes and price points. At the same time, independent promoters still occasionally co-promote shows with Live Nation.
Live Nation’s influence is largely concentrated at the top end of the market. The company is tied to many of the region’s largest venues, including the Moody Center and Germania Insurance Amphitheater at Circuit of the Americas, where major touring acts routinely stop. Smaller clubs and midsized venues, by contrast, are more likely to operate independently or work with a mix of promoters and smaller, niche ticketing platforms.
Confetti covers the crowd during the Paramore concert at the Moody Center in 2023. Live Nation is tied to many of the region’s largest venues, including the Moody Center.
As the case moves forward, that distinction has become part of the conversation around what could change. A separate settlement reached earlier this year raised the possibility that Live Nation could be required to alter or give up certain venue relationships, including at amphitheaters in Texas. While details haven’t been finalized, any shift in control at venues like Germania could open the door for more competition in how shows are booked.
Even without structural changes, some promoters say the high cost of large-scale arena and stadium concerts is eating up fans’ entertainment dollars, causing them to increasingly opt out of seeing smaller, local shows. Larger companies can afford to overpay, or even absorb losses, to secure tours and maintain control over key tour routes, a dynamic that can ripple outward to smaller venues.
Williams said the rising cost of tickets for major concerts can have a ripple effect across the broader scene.
“If it costs $300 to see an artist that used to cost $75, and you spend $500 on a pair of tickets, you’re probably not going to go see that $30 or $40 show the next week,” he said.
Carvalho described a similar dynamic, noting Austinites have only so much discretionary income for live entertainment in a city that has grown increasingly expensive. When a handful of arena or amphitheater shows absorb a large share of that spending, smaller venues can feel the impact in attendance.
Still, some in the industry say the case could create at least modest openings, depending on how aggressively regulators pursue changes. More transparency in ticket pricing, limits on exclusivity agreements, or shifts in venue control could give independent promoters more flexibility in how they book shows.
Whether those changes materialize or meaningfully alter the balance of power remains uncertain. For now, many operators say the system that shapes how tours are routed and shows are sold remains firmly in place, even as the legal challenge moves forward.
“Live Nation is not going anywhere,” Carvalho said. “These stadium shows are still going to take all of the income people have for entertainment.”