In 2011, well after听his career as a promoter was behind him, late Colorado concert legend Barry Fey reflected听on the changes he’d seen in the听rock ‘n’ roll听business: “It has no soul. It has no identity, no personality. If I started today, I couldn’t make it,” he said in .
Once predicated on taste for talent and loyalty, concert promotion had changed significantly since听Fey started promoting shows in the 1960s. In the ’90s, conglomerates like Clear Channel Communications had begun rolling up independent promoters to create massive promotion chains, which ruled markets by sheer power of monetary force.
Denver’s scene is dominated by听Live Nation and AEG Presents (), the world’s听first and second biggest听concert promoters, respectively. From to fledgling country singer Kacey Musgraves’, the听companies听book听hundreds of concerts each year in Denver’s听major music venues. It’s thanks to them that Denver ranks as听a top-five concert market in the country, according to promoters and music industry media.
That wasn’t always the case. As far as these behemoths of industry have taken the city in the last decade, the seeds of Denver’s thriving concert听landscape听were planted by听an independent promoter who was willing to take a chance on us long before it was a sure thing.
And despite being much diminished from its heyday, the company still wields a surprising power over the city’s dominant corporate promoters.
Thirty听years ago, Denver’s live music scene was, like the city itself, relatively undefined. While Barry Fey pulled in big-name,听big-money shows — at Mile High Stadium, U2 at Red Rocks, at听the now-defunct Rainbow Music Hall听— few promoters bothered to risk their money on听smaller bands.
Independent Denver promoter Nobody In Particular Presents changed that.
Doug Kauffman, the company’s founder, went into promotion here not from a business perspective, but from that of a music obsessive. He came to Denver in the early ’80s after fizzling听out as a working musician (he was notably turned down in auditions to play bass for both Chris Isaak and the Sweethearts of the Rodeo). Despite having almost听no knowledge听of concert promotion, he started booking shows around small rooms in Denver to compete with the preponderance of听punk rock and hair-metal concerts around town.
His first show was an evening with the Velvet Underground’s John Cale. About 300 people showed up to what Kauffman referred to as a听“perpetually empty” club called The Broadway, now Club Vinyl.
“I had to find a job, so this is my first and last attempt at finding a job,” Kauffman, 56, said. “It worked from day one.”
From there, the shows — and risks — got bigger. Within five shows, NIPP听brought听the Red Hot Chili Peppers to what is now the Buell Theatre. Within a decade, it would acquire听the Ogden Theatre, which Kauffman bought in 1992, and the Bluebird Theater after partnering听with the latter’s听owner, Chris Swank. Before he was governor, John Hickenlooper lent NIPP听money to buy a PA system for the Ogden.
“(Hickenlooper) helped me at a very important time,” Kauffman said.
At the time, few businesses dared听to set up听along Colfax Avenue, a place that, as Swank delicately put it, “you wouldn’t want to be.”
Under NIPP, the听two听transformed the Ogden and the Bluebird — the latter a historic but dilapidated pornography theater when Swank bought it in 1994 for less than half of its $165,000 asking price — from听bulldozer fodder into two of Denver’s听most听crucial听mid-sized music clubs. 听听are now on the National Register of Historic Places.
With their success came the rise of Denver as a major player in the national music听scene. Geographically, the Mile High City is a crucial tour stop for bands between the听Midwest and other major cities further west and south. With venerable mid-sized venues to play, every major band coming across I-70 that was not ready to fill the 3,700-capacity Fillmore Auditorium now had prominent stages to play.
NIPP was also now a dominant force in Denver’s concert scene, booking around 500 shows a year at its height. It听gained a reputation for听savvy bills: Denver听show-goers would听look听to听the听promoter’s name on advertisements as a recommendation听for otherwise unknown bands. (In 2016, the company booked around 150 shows at tiny听rooms like and the , which Swank and Kauffman respectively own and operate.)
Kauffman hopes that if nothing else, the听theaters will stand as a testament to what Nobody in Particular Presents once was.
“Not a legacy of thousands of shows that are forgotten in time,” he said. “This is a brick-and-mortar legacy.”
For music fans across the world, though, NIPP has a farther-reaching听legacy. The promoter’s听2001 antitrust lawsuit against听Clear Channel Communications, which called the corporation out for combining听its radio stations and concert promotion arm (Live Nation) to discourage competition, served as a firm slap to听an entertainment industry flirting to see how much it could get away with.
The suit听was settled out of court in 2004 for an undisclosed sum, pressuring听the听company to divest听Live Nation to avoid further federal scrutiny.
“We were protecting artists and fans from what we saw as the end of the road,” said Jesse Morreale, who was听a minority听partner in NIPP at the time.听“Had we not been successful things听would look really different in the world of music.”
The nationally reported lawsuit positioned听NIPP听as a gatekeeper for all show-goers, preventing any whiff of an entertainment monopoly from taking听shape, which could have lead to homogenized booking and increased ticket prices.
But it also exhausted its owners, both spiritually and financially. Nearing听bankruptcy,听the company agreed to lease the Bluebird Theater and the Ogden exclusively to AEG Presents in 2006, which had opened its Denver office that year and took a trio of听Live Nation’s top听promoters听along with it: Chuck Morris, Don Strasburg and Brent Fedrizzi. (Officials from AEG Presents and Live Nation did not respond to repeated requests听for听comment.)
With that, NIPP began to fade听into obscurity. 听After a spat with Kauffman, Morreale would soon leave听the company, somewhat controversially.
“When that kind of stuff is happening it really is a trial in a personal relationship,” said Morreale, who owns Denver’s听Thunderbird Imperial Lounge. “I regret the company wasn’t able to stay relevant after I left.”
Kauffman, who doesn’t keep in contact with Morreale, was less amiable. “He left at a time when the chips were down,” he said.
Swank jetted听off听to Argentina for the next five years.
“We’d been blowing our hair out for the last 14 years,” he said.听“It was good timing. I wish I would have听stayed in and kept doing it, but AEG has really done a good job with the theaters.”
“It was going with AEG and not going against them,” Kauffman said. “I would have much preferred to make it myself, but with these听multibillion-dollar companies, it’s impossible. You’ve got to take the next best thing, which is financial security the rest of your life.”
Thanks in large part to its exclusive leasing of the Ogden and听Bluebird theaters听(along with its exclusive operation听of the FirstBank Center, Fiddler’s Green Amphitheatre and the听Gothic Theatre — the latter of which听NIPP also听owned at one point), AEG Presents has ruled Denver’s concert scene ever since, led by Morris, who worked under Fey for many years.
The听company has done听extensive legwork as well, renovating the spaces it acquired and employing an aggressive booking strategy to ensure it听gets as many of the best shows in town as it can.听In response听to Live Nation’s acquisition of Ticketmaster, AEG Presents rolled out its own nationwide ticketing platform, AXS, at the Bluebird and Ogden听in 2011, one that Denver bought into as .
But despite signing听long-term leases to the company — ones听AEG Presents renewed last year听— NIPP still owns听the Bluebird and the Ogden, which positions it again as a听kind of听gatekeeper听for the music community: It’s essentially all that stands between AEG Presents and all-but-complete control of Denver’s key clubs.
When AEG Presents approached them to renegotiate the leases, Swank and Kauffman considered what it might look like if they instead gave NIPP another run in Denver.听Ultimately, the financial risk was too great. Both men, who are now the sole employees of NIPP, are in听their 50s. They’re living听comfortably. Swank has a family to think about, and each听recently launched his own musical career: Swank as a guitarist for听 and Kauffman as .
While NIPP remains dormant, Kauffman concedes that an independent promoter that is “forward-leaning enough to see what’s coming” could still break through in Denver on one condition: They would听need their own venue.
Soda Jerk Presents, the听largest independent听promoter in听Colorado, has two in Denver: Lodo’s Marquis Theater and Summit Music Hall. Focusing on smaller shows for genres like punk, hardcore and indie rock, as well as the annual Riot Fest, it’s听largely stayed听out of the way of the major promoters, and has even听collaborated on occasion with听Live Nation, like for听Skillet’s . (Soda Jerk founder听Mike Barsch declined to comment for this article.)
This summer, however, one听independent promoter will go directly听up against the听promotional giants. When the up-to-7,500 capacity Levitt Pavilion opens in July, Nashville’s Emporium Presents, which will听serve as the听venue’s main听promoter, will effectively enter Denver’s live music fray.
Emporium Presents partner Jason Zink, who served as the听general manager at听the Paramount Theatre for six years, said听NIPP had created a strong base for independent promoters. But, he听conceded, times have changed.
“The large corporate part (of promotion) didn’t exist to the extent it does today,” Zink said. Still, he believes Denver has enough music fans to make space for Emporium Presents. “Competition is a healthy thing. Because it’s听such a good market, there’s always been serious competition here.”
Kauffman amended that statement slightly: “They’ll听face some very stiff competition.”
