In the ecosystem of live music, touring artists are already carrying a heavy load: gas prices, flight fees, van maintenance, equipment repairs, hotel rooms, food, and endless hours of labor. For most musicians, especially independent ones, merchandise sales at shows aren’t just a bonus—they’re a lifeline. That’s why an increasingly vocal number of artists are drawing a line in the sand when it comes to venue merchandise fees, and it’s time more bands joined that resistance.
You pay $15 to have a t-shirt made. You sell it for $20. That should be a $5 profit per shirt. But if the venue takes a 15% merchandise cut, they take $3 off the top. That leaves you with just $2 profit per shirt.
Now factor in that you might have flown to this show, and checked an extra bag just to bring merch—often costing $50 or more. That means you’d need to sell at least 25 shirts just to break even on transporting your merch. For many artists, that means their night’s work results in zero profit—or even a loss.
Meanwhile, the venue is making money hand over fist on ticket fees, drinks, concessions, and often a portion of the door. But are they cutting you 15% of the bar? No. They aren’t handing over a cut of the beer your fans bought while watching your performance. So why should they get a cut of something they had nothing to do with producing, printing, transporting, or selling?
For many touring bands, especially those without label or corporate support, selling merch is the only way to cover the basic costs of the road. The t-shirt table might pay for tomorrow’s gas or tonight’s motel. When venues skim off the top, they’re taking money that was never theirs to begin with.
Let’s be honest: the venue profits off the crowd you draw. They sell tickets because people want to see you. They sell drinks because people are there for your show. Without the artist, the venue is just a room with a bar. So when they take a slice of your merchandise earnings, they’re cashing in on labor they didn’t do.
Some venues require you to use their merch sellers—people who have no connection to your band, don’t know your products, and don’t care about your brand. Others demand a cut of gross sales, not profit, ignoring your costs entirely. These policies force you to either hike your prices and risk losing sales or take the loss yourself. It’s a lose-lose scenario for artists.
Historically, merch fees may have come from scenes where venues weren’t making money on alcohol sales, like straight-edge punk shows, but applying that logic to a multi-bar club with $12 cocktails is laughable. The modern merch cut is not about survival—it’s about greed.
If you’re a small or mid-tier artist, every dollar counts. You’re not playing amphitheaters; you’re grinding through small rooms, working merch tables yourself, sleeping in vans. A 15% cut might be the difference between breaking even and going home in debt.
Artists need to stand together and say no to merch fees. Refuse to pay.
Call it out in contracts. Encourage your fans to support you directly online or through platforms that don’t skim. Name the venues taking unfair cuts. Use your platform to spread awareness.
The live music industry cannot function without artists. Yet too often, artists are treated like the least important part of the equation. That needs to change—and refusing to pay merch fees is one way to start shifting the balance back where it belongs.
No more crumbs. No more skimming. No more theft disguised as policy. Keep your hands off the merch.
