We're doing something new this week that has me excited.
This week in LA, I'm hosting an invite-only dinner with managers, label executives, and other music industry visionaries.
I've been having a lot of conversations lately with managers, artists, label people, folks building new platforms, and the same thing keeps coming up.
Everyone senses that the ground is shifting, but nobody has the space to think clearly about what to do next. The day-to-day is loud. There's always another release, another deal, another fire to put out. The urgent crowds out the important.
What I keep noticing is that the people who care the most about music, the ones who got into this because they actually love it, are the ones feeling the most squeezed.
The economics are getting harder. The algorithms are getting louder. And the conversations that matter most keep getting pushed to the margins.
The question is not whether new technology will change music. It already has. The question is who decides how to keep music human.
That question has been sitting with me for a while. Not as an abstract concern, but as something I feel a personal responsibility to do something about.
I didn't start Bootleg just to build a product. I started it because I believe live music is one of the most human things we have, and I want to be in rooms with people who feel the same way.
The goal of the dinner is simple: step out of the daily noise of business-as-usual and connect with like-minded people to start collectively building the future we want to see. If everything feels right, we'll do it again in NYC and Nashville this spring.
I don't know exactly what comes out of a dinner like this. But I know that the right people in the right room, talking honestly about what matters is where things start to change.