Words by Dave Coenen
“Clubbing is becoming a luxury”, jungle royalty (and WAS. closer in november 2023!) Sherelle stated in an interview for BBC, just over a year ago. A seemingly layered statement, inviting to delve deeper into some research and cultural analysis of the subject matter. What Sherelle’s statement does in any case, is raise a problem. And to believe this is merely an overseas matter, would be a perfect example of the ostrich effect. Even though new clubs, events and hubs keep popping up, there’s no denying that Dutch night life is struggling as much as its British counterpart. What’s happening? And where are we moving towards? Are we looking at it the right way when we’re only looking at numbers?
Instead of only doing the research ourselves, we decided to ask our visitors, and they brought up new perspectives and touching statements: “culturally, so many do not value enough the community and joie de vivre that clubbing can bring.”
What’s going on?
While close to 800 British late-night venues, organisations or other business have been forced to close between 2020 and 2025 – that’s more than a quarter out of the UK nightlife sector – the number of Dutch clubs, discotheques and night time cafes have shrunk with 20 percent during the same time span.
To explain the decline of venues and cafes, Marijke Vuik, chairwoman of Koninklijke Horeca Nederland, says: “Gen Z likes to have breakfast, lunch or coffee outdoor.” So, according to the experts, people under 28 are spending their money on leisure activities during the day, like going for lunch or festivals, less on clubbing.
To assume that this is the only reason for a decline in clubs, would be a very superficial approach, since we’re only looking at economical behavior and treating actual people merely like malleable consumers. Without a doubt, there’s more at play. Something that numbers can not account for, something that has to do with cultural shifts. Rapidly changing interests, and more complex factors that lead to certain decisions by potential new and regular club-goers.
A recently published op-ed in The Spectator states “club culture may have moved to the kitchen”, with house parties and their intimate, spontaneous, and low-cost atmosphere being more attractive to potential club-goers than a “professional” club setting. A similar trend is the rise of DIY venues. According to Rock & Art, these venues “offer an alternative that is more accessible, more inclusive, and more connected to the real-life concern of its participants. It is a reminder that music can be a force for social cohesion, not just a commodity to be bought and sold.”
We can clearly see this trend showing up in Utrecht as well: a lot of DIY(-leaning) locations based at (former) industrial locations (for example Beton-T or De Nijverheid) provide a more (financially) accessible, attractive alternative for bigger, “cleaner” locations with a higher entry fee.
The cost of clubbing
Before a deep dive in cultural shifts, we’re gathering some numbers again. Because we’re not only navigating through a shrinking nightlife landscape, but are also at risk of moving towards a situation in which clubbing at an entry level could become only for the wealthy. Inflation and its effect on ticket prices have been going since way before COVID happened. Where a Klubnacht in Berghain entry fee would cost around 15-18 euros around 2016, we find double the price around 2026 for the same experience: around 30 euros. Prices in hotels, restaurants and cafés in nightlife have also risen with 4% – well above the recent inflation trend of +3.3%.
Whereas festivals are often branded as “a constant magnet for young people”, and the biggest reason people skip clubbing for bigger fomo-induced multi-day summer events, concerns about the raise of festival prices are growing as well. Media are investigating reasons why major festivals are not selling as rapidly, and point to the rise of production costs and inflation as main indicators. For example: where a Dekmantel combiticket would be priced 120 euros in 2016, and about 149 euros in 2020, it’s 220-250 (depending on the tier) in 2026. We see a growth of +/- 15% in ticket price between 2017 and 2020, whereas growth exponentially moves to 30-40% after 2020.
So yes, clubbing is becoming a luxury, at least economically, like many other goods, experiences and services, to the average human. This links to broader trends in events and culture: (1) a rapid and exponential growth of costs in this industry (energy, artists, staff), (2) a peak in demand right after COVID, which is now declining again and (3) less supply. At the same time the market feels overly saturated (with for example, day festivals), while it can still feel like a lot of spaces (to fulfill the needs of certain communities) are missing.
Our culture is shifting
We might not be the biggest, most crowded clubbing country, but when it comes to influence and quality of production, The Netherlands might have a leading position. A lot of Dutch festivals like Awakenings, Le Guess Who and Dekmantel have huge reputations amongst international crowds. Dutch mid-sized to big venues have professionalized themselves to a nearly squeaky clean, clinical point of “perfection”, to make sure there is no (literal) white noise or obstacle between visitor and audiovisual experience. This makes for a live + clubbing climate that is more and more merging music and dancing as optimalized goods for consumption, strongly resembling what is described in this video essay about third spaces and their global unification. Clubs, bars and listening bars looking more and more alike all over the world can lead to increasing feelings of loneliness, instead of connecting us. Claims of being community-based or a creative hub can fall flat or feel empty.
This huge “professionalisation” also seems to carry the risk of pushing more and more smaller clubs off their seat at the table, resulting in them possibly missing the boat when it comes to monetary backing and subsidies by municipalities. This effect is also at play close to home: after 2026, there’s a big chance there’s no budget available for night culture in the municipality of Utrecht, due to national budget cuts in funding of municipalities nation-wide. Originally planned to last until the end of 2030, but now cut with 4 years, it raises new concerns and obstacles for cultural policy makers in our city, and even more for clubs that are struggling already or trying to build a solid base in the next couple of years.
With less money, and more cultural organisations “competing” for money out of necessity, a lot of smaller venues and initiatives are at risk of being pushed out of the financial backing loop or not even able to get in within the next 3-6 years. Which in turn can force them into disappearance, or – maybe worse – selling the niche night culture they have to offer with a more commodity-based approach, since that’s the model they’re forced to work with outside of backing.
This is exactly why Rotterdam night mayor Thys Boer’s recent statements about club culture on Instagram resonate with so many people involved with nightlife: by looking at just the numbers and by adding all night clubs to the big heap of “nachthoreca”, you ignore the deeper cultural value that brought clubbing to life in the first place. Without local and national governments actually crafting legislation and protection that is beneficial to let night life blossom, and without broader consensus about the added value of night life, we tend to put a lot of our beloved clubbing landscape in The Netherlands at risk.
What can be changed?
What can we do to make clubbing more attractive to clubbers, and what can be changed to make Dutch nightlife more valued, sustained and healthy? These are big questions to answer, but we tried to tie them to the statement posed at the beginning of this blog, by asking FLUID (our regular queer club night in WAS.) frequenters and community ticket holders 4 questions:
Do you think clubbing is a luxury nowadays?
When it comes to their viewpoints of clubbing being a luxury, people provided very nuanced answers, but leaned towards yes. Other factors than just entry fees are also put into the equation by our community members: transport, drinks and pressure towards other social activities (like pre-drinks) during the night are mentioned. “(…) From a price perspective, I do think some clubs are becoming more expensive and for minimal good reason.” Free or minimal-entry clubs are mentioned as a better alternative by some, while a reasonable middle ground for the luxury problem seems to be found in community / pay what you can-tier tickets.
What would draw you more to a club, price wise and experience wise (than the level you are already drawn to clubs now)?
What draws people to a club, is answered with a connection of the experiential and financial: “it’s a balance – if it’s too expensive I can’t pay, if the event is cheap but the crowd vibe isn’t there I may not go back! (…) I think a lot of it is out of a club’s control – rising rents, costs (energy, drinks, etc), and people’s purchasing power being squeezed by high rents and general cost of living.” Another community member answers: “when the club pays a lot of attention to safety and inclusivity. (…) In terms of price, if attention is paid to the fact that people have different incomes and that not everyone can afford the same amount [ – that would draw me more to a club].”
What do clubs have to change to not be (or feel like) a luxury?
Answering the question what would clubs have to change to be less of a luxury, mostly accessibility in prices is provided as a main argument. “The lower the entrance tickets, the more accessible [the club is] for everyone.” The same person later speaks of a tier-based approach: “you could also work with entrance based on donation, so people can pay what they can spare.” Lastly, the luxury aspect also shows in the privacy and online aspect connected to a night, at least to one community member: “to be honest I love that parties like FLUID or Pornceptual, [that] have stickers on cameras [so] people are more likely to talk or let loose, compared to other clubs. I think that younger people want everything to be Instagrammable and aesthetic, but life isn’t like that, and I’m beginning to reject that more and more.”
Do you think the problem is bigger than just for clubs? Who do you think has the “real” power over this?
When provided a question about the bigger problem and who has the power over this, people answer with the most differing points out of all questions, from a short but fundamental answer like “capitalism” with a melting face emoji, to more elaborate explanations. “I think prices are increasing for everything, so it’s not surprising that clubs are also affected by this. But I think to invite the kinds of young people I would like to party with, having cheaper tickets is a big incentive. In terms of who has the power, I think individual clubs do have the power to set the tone about their affordability, but I understand it is a competitive world and (…) there is a good reason to charge and it does feel like you get your money’s worth.”
The same person closes the answer with the power that clubbers have: “I also think there is power in the hands of consumers (although it is often not utilised), but if people are really put off by the cost then they just won’t come. So there is power in that.” Other answers provided mention the housing market and gentrification.
Furthermore, online visibility and social status are mentioned. “(…) everything has to ‘pay off’ if it costs money. I’ll spend money on coffee, but it has to look aesthetic and be on my story.. I feel like this is the overarching mentality of a lot of people? And I sometimes feel it too, like if I’m at an event or club or cafe whatever it may be, I feel this pressure that it has to be posted and come across as something that other people should be envious of even? But this is a complex issue… people used to flex with luxury brands but now people flex with things like groceries or coffee.” An interesting take that leads us cyclically back to the phrase we started this blog with – putting clubbing as a luxury in a whole new perspective.
Processing some new insights, and looking beyond just numbers and economical factors, it’s clear that a proper and recurring re-valuation of what nightlife can bring to people’s life is needed. Like one of the FLUID community members puts it quite wonderfully: “culturally, so many do not value enough the community and joie de vivre that clubbing can bring.”
As either club frequenters, owners, crew, artists or other affiliates to nightlife, we should protect, fight for and unapologetically express our love for the heart and connection that can be found in the club – from smoking area to dark corner to front-center of dj booth. Spreading the gospel about what clubbing can mean beyond the material, at least with the aim of keeping systemic/institutional support and backing alive (or getting it back up to healthier levels again), might have more effect than you might notice at face value.