With Sónar and Superstruct Still Spinning Half-Truths, a Headliner Has Pulled Out and Palestinians Have Called for an Official Boycott
Although statements from KKR-affiliated entities are being met with remarkably little scrutiny from the dance music press, the public outcry continues to grow and intensify.
Sónar is bleeding. Having already endured weeks of bad press, artist cancellations, withering online criticism and growing government scrutiny, the long-running Barcelona festival last week attempted to stem the escalating uproar concerning its ties to global investment firm KKR by publishing a new public statement—its third in a two-week span.
Unfortunately for Sónar, that statement didn’t stop Arca—arguably one of the biggest names on the entire line-up—from dropping out yesterday. It’s a safe bet that at least some additional artists will follow her lead, especially now that PACBI (Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel) has officially called for a boycott of the festival.
For those who have no idea what this is all about, some quick background:
KKR, an American-owned global investment firm with documented ties to fossil fuel extraction, weapons manufacturing, crowd-control technology and entities that operate in the occupied West Bank, last year acquired Superstruct, a UK conglomerate that first purchased Sónar in 2018 and currently oversees a portfolio of approximately 80 large-scale festivals and 200 smaller events around the world. As part of that portfolio, Sónar is now tied—admittedly involuntarily—to a rather unsavory corporate behemoth over which it has absolutely no control, and in the face of ongoing Israeli attacks on Gaza and the growing threat of widespread famine in the besieged enclave, a sizable contingent of the music-consuming public has rather loudly objected to the presence of KKR-affiliated entities in the culture.
Sónar spent months basically ignoring those objections, but as the online pressure (and, more importantly, the number of artist cancellations) mounted, the festival ultimately elected to publicly address the situation. But after its first two statements were widely ridiculed for being vague, weak and even cowardly, Sónar sharpened up its latest missive, specifically “condemn[ing] the genocide of the Palestinian people” and boldly claiming that the festival had never and would never send “a single euro to KKR.” It also pledged to make a donation to “NGOs that are working to help those in Gaza” and promised that refunds would be given to ticket holders who requested them.
(Side note: In what one can probably assume was a strategic decision, this latest communication was published directly on the Sónar website, and not via an Instagram post like its previous two statements. Considering the degree to which the festival has been absolutely eviscerated in the comment sections of those earlier posts, the change of venue was a savvy move, as social media algorithms love nothing more than steering users towards online knife fights. By communicating via their website, the Sónar team both reduced the statement’s shareability and made it so that only people who actively sought it out were likely to find it.)
Did it work? Sónar initially seemed to think so, as its programmers almost immediately began reaching out to some of the more than 40 artists, exhibitors and collectives who’d previously dropped out of the line-up, asking if they’d be willing to come back. It’s not yet clear if any of them actually will come back, but Sónar’s statement also said that the festival was actively “working to confirm replacements,” and in recent days, its social media accounts have essentially gone back to publishing “normal” promo content.
The dance music press also lent Sónar a hand. Within minutes of the festival’s latest statement going live, Resident Advisor published a news story about it, one that not only put the “not a single euro” claim in the headline, but effectively regurgitated Sónar’s messaging while providing nearly zero critical analysis. It also failed to acknowledge that Resident Advisor is one of Sónar’s media partners and is scheduled to host a live edition of the RA Exchange interview podcast at this year’s festival. (Then again, that sort of non-disclosure of potential conflicts of interest is commonplace when it comes to RA’s event-related editorial, despite the fact that the publication not only actively courts event partnerships, but is heavily dependent on a business model in which ticket sales are a primary source of revenue.)
Resident Advisor has already gotten a lot of mileage out of their Sónar post; as of this writing, it’s the top news story on the site and is still sitting on the home page’s feature carousel, which is where editors generally place the premium content—or at least the stuff they think will attract the most eyeballs. It was also the lead story in RA’s latest newsletter, which arrived in readers’ inboxes with a subject line that said, “What's going on with Sónar?”
DJ Mag and Mixmag aren’t even listed among Sónar’s official media partners, but they too stuck the “not a single euro” line in the headlines of their respective news stories. To their credit, they provided a bit more in the way of context, specifically referencing KKR’s unethical investments, yet neither one spent much time evaluating the validity of Sónar’s latest claims, opting instead to largely reprint the festival’s words verbatim. Still, they did more than Crack magazine, which despite being listed by Sonar as a “collaborative media” outlet, provided no coverage of the statement whatsoever. That same day, however, the site did publish a sponsored and unbylined interview with the managing director of Best Nights VC, a literal venture capital fund that’s headed up by Jägermeister. As with most major music publications these days, working extensively with brands is not a problem at Crack, and while its staff would likely assert that those deals have no major effect on editorial, this search result from yesterday is rather telling:
Add in the fact that for nearly a year now, Crack has had an article titled, “In Solidarity with Gaza: A Guide to the Music and Resources That Support the Humanitarian Effort,” pinned on its home page, and the company’s commitment to the cause starts to look awfully performative. The same could be said for Resident Advisor; certified as a B Corp last year, the company proudly touts its “commitment to being a force for good and advocating for a more inclusive and equitable electronic music community.” However, it seems that commitment doesn’t extend to not partnering with festivals that are ultimately owned by morally dubious investment funds like KKR, which has not only been accused of being complicit in genocide, but is most definitely tied to some of the most noxious and destructive businesses on the planet. Admittedly, many of those ties have been highlighted in RA’s news section, which has run numerous KKR-related stories in recent months, but until the company is willing to cut financial ties, all that coverage looks a whole lot like theater—and even worse, the sort of theater that editors know will stoke reader engagement, as hot-button topics always do.
Cue the usual responses:
“But these festivals aren’t KKR!”
“They didn’t have a say when KKR bought Superstruct. They can’t control who their bosses are!”
“Nothing has changed from a programming / operational standpoint. Their autonomy is still intact!”
“They keep all of the money they make. They said not one euro goes to Superstruct or KKR!”
All those things make for a solid argument. The only problem is … they’re not exactly true. Sónar’s “not one euro” claim is actually rooted in a prior statement from Superstruct, which said, “All revenue and profits from Superstruct events and festivals remain entirely within our business and go towards the ongoing development and staging of our festivals across the world.” Similar language popped up in recent “ownership statements” from Superstruct-owned Dutch festivals DGTL, Mysteryland, Milkshake, Amsterdam Open Air and Vunzige Deuntjes, and Sónar insists that all profits from its events are “reinvested, in their entirety, in future editions” of the festival.
That sounds great, but it’s also a gross misrepresentation of how investment funds actually work. Regardless of whether or not Sónar or any other festival sends a portion of their profits to Superstruct or KKR, they have serious value—that’s why they were acquired in the first place! If these festivals do well, their value increases, which boosts the value of Superstruct’s portfolio, and KKR’s portfolio in turn. Given the relative size of Sónar in relation to KKR’s total holdings, that theoretical boost would likely be small, but that’s beside the point. What matters is that Sónar is being disingenuous, and it’s doing so with the full blessing of its parent company.
That’s why Sónar’s assertion that it still has “operational autonomy” ultimately rings hollow. Although the festival claims that “the relationship with Superstruct is merely administrative and we have no direct relationship with KKR,” then why have its public communications hewed so closely to what appears to be a Superstruct-approved script? Why has the festival, like nearly of the other Superstruct-owned festivals, refused to acknowledge BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions) and PACBI, even after an open letter that’s been signed by approximately 150 Sónar artists past and present specifically demanded an adherence to BDS guidelines?
Sónar hasn’t publicly addressed any of those issues. Though its most recent statement has been presented as an effort to “clarify a number of points and respond to your questions,” what it really represents is a multimillion-dollar festival effectively interviewing itself by responding to a list of carefully curated queries selected by its own staff—or perhaps an outside crisis team. It’s a PR exercise, not a genuine act of transparency. Moreover, that exercise attempts to frame Sónar as a victim of circumstance, saying that the festival was “purchased” by Superstruct in 2018 and had “no involvement, no say and no vote” when Superstruct was acquired by KKR last year. That is almost surely true, just as it’s true that Sónar has “no influence or control over KKR’s investment decisions or internal workings,” but it obscures the fact the festival’s founders willingly ceded that influence and control when they chose to sell their company in the first place, presumably for a very large sum of money. (Exact terms of the deal were not publicly disclosed.) If they didn’t foresee that things could potentially go sideways at some point, that’s on them, and it’s hard to muster a whole lot of sympathy now that they’ve found themselves in an uncomfortable position.
It’s even harder to feel sympathetic in light of Sónar’s announcement that it will be using the opening slot of its Stage+D on Thursday as “a space for reflection, listening, and action concerning the role of culture in the current global context.” Putting out a call to “artists, thinkers, institutions, and cultural actors,” Sónar hopes to foster a “meaningful and constructive debate” about heady issues like the intersection of culture and capital and what role cultural actors should play in the face of the genocide in Gaza and other injustices around the world.
Once again, that sounds good in theory, but in practice, what’s being proposed is an unstructured, open-invitation free-for-all that will not only take place when festival attendance is at its lowest (i.e. during business hours on a Thursday), but will also only be accessible to those who have paid for a festival ticket. Who is this for, and what purpose does it serve, aside from being a low-stakes signal to the world that Sónar really cares? And presuming that Gaza and Palestine will be a major focus of the conversation, will any people with concrete ties to that part of the world be taking part? Considering that most of the handful of Arab artists who were originally booked to perform—including, full disclosure, my wife Dania—have already cancelled, and the festival has yet to publicly engage with BDS and PACBI, the chances of that happening are not good. That leaves Sónar with the very real possibility of a room full of mostly white Europeans passionately debating how to best “fix” the Middle East—without anyone from the Middle East actually being present.
At any halfway decent academic symposium, this sort of severely undercooked idea would be downright laughable, and it’s frankly embarrassing that Sónar feels like it represents a genuine effort to atone for KKR’s sins. It’s no wonder that local writer / thinker / academic Daniel Gasol publicly mocked the festival after receiving an invitation to participate in the event, stating (in Spanish):
This is not a space for reflection. It’s a set for feigning ethics while continuing to dance over corpses. Inviting dissident voices doesn't make you brave, and aside from being insulting, it only strengthens your image-washing. You want our words as a shield, our doubts as a veneer, our presence as an alibi. I will not be part of this simulation. Because culture, if it doesn’t point the finger at executioners, only entertains those who look the other way.
In an effort to save itself, Sónar has veered wildly off course, and is now quite possibly in a place where the festival’s brand has been permanently tarnished. It’s unfortunate that the dance music press—which is supposed to be documenting and commenting on the culture—is now so compromised that it’s either unwilling or unable to make that observation, but seeing Gasol’s words does bring hope that intelligent people are nonetheless seeing through the facade and taking stock of what’s happening.
A real momentum is developing, one that’s undeniably fueled by outrage over what’s happening in Gaza, but also stems from a growing sense of frustration with the corporatization and financialization of seemingly everything, including culture. Last Friday, the Barcelona city council voted to officially break ties with Israel, and in the process ordered the Fira de Barcelona—which manages the two conference centers where Sónar takes place each year—to stop allowing Israeli arms companies to host pavilions at their venues. (Some have already argued that this new resolution also opens the door for the city to re-evaluate its contracts with Sónar and other KKR-affiliated events.)
Sónar itself has already quietly dropped Coca-Cola—a prime BDS target—from its list of sponsors, but given its refusal to fully embrace the movement, or even dialog with its members, the organization has now called for a full boycott of the festival. With that in place, will Boiler Room—another Superstruct-owned entity that earlier this year pledged to “adhere to BDS and PACBI guidelines”—keep that promise and cancel its planned stage at this year’s Sónar? Will the artists who previously signed the open letter that haven’t already dropped out feel the need to pull the trigger and remove themselves from the Sónar line-up? Will some of the acts who’ve so far skirted the KKR issue decide that staying silent no longer feels like a viable option? Will droves of attendees demand their money back?
Anything is possible, especially when Sónar doesn’t begin for another nine days.
Shawn Reynaldo is a freelance writer, editor, presenter and project manager. Find him on LinkedIn and Instagram—and make sure to follow First Floor on Instagram as well—or you can just drop Shawn an email to get in touch about projects, collaborations or potential work opportunities.