PORTLAND, Ore. (CN) — As this quirky city grapples with competing visions for its future, a row of vacant lots along Portland’s central eastside, tucked between warehouses and freeway overpasses, has become ground zero in the culture clash.
Developers want to turn the lots into the home of a midsize concert venue with a capacity of around 3,500. That size is a missing middle that sometimes causes popular acts to skip over Portland.
City leaders have advanced the plan, selling the public land to developers for $2.4 million. But many in the local music community have rallied against it, mostly over concerns about the proposed operator.
That company, Live Nation, is a live-entertainment behemoth that controls Ticketmaster. Currently, it’s facing an antitrust suit brought by the Justice Department and 40 states, including Oregon.
“I don’t really see how the City of Portland can look at 40 states and the federal government suing these people and then want to do business with them,” said David Leiken, a longtime pillar of Portland’s live music scene. “I think the risks are substantial.”
Live Nation did not respond to requests for comment for this story.
Leiken worked as a Portland concert promoter for more than 50 years, including running a venue and ticketing company. He watched closely as Ticketmaster gained a foothold in major U.S. markets before merging with Live Nation in 2010.
“The merger has allowed them to compete unfairly with everybody else,” he said.
Leiken isn’t the only one concerned. At a September city-council meeting on the project’s conditional-use permit, one public commenter called the development a “death wish” for the local music industry.
Though apparently sympathetic, city council voted only on whether the economic-development agency made a mistake by issuing the developers a conditional use permit.
They rejected the appeal, dashing hopes of halting the project at this stage.
“We think the city council got this decision wrong,” said Jamie Dunphy, a member of Music Portland. A nonprofit trade organization for the local music industry, the group had appealed the land-use permit.
As the last major U.S. city without a Live Nation-operated venue, Portland has long stood as a holdout.
Now, concern is rising about the potential threat to independent venues that define the city’s music scene.
“I really hope that I’m overreacting, and that maybe Live Nation sees the light of day and decides to come up with a different way of moving forward in Portland voluntarily,” Dunphy said. “Or, that it’s all overblown, and Portland’s music scene is so independent and so resilient that what has happened in every other city won’t happen here.”
Jason Raistakka has worked in the Portland music scene since 1997. Like many musicians here, he wears multiple hats: independent booking agent, concert production worker and tour manager.
Having spent time in Austin, Denver and Los Angeles, Raistakka said he’s seen what happens when Live Nation comes to town.
“What I’ve seen is, they come in and — as soon as they start to control a venue, or just take over a venue — they’ll start bidding against other promoters in the area, and they’ll outbid them,” he said.
The Justice Department argues much the same. In a 124-page antitrust complaint, the feds say Live Nation threatens rivals, locks venues into exclusive ticketing agreements, restricts access to venues and actively works to eliminate competition.
The company is known for “acquiring nascent threats and neutralizing rivals,” Justice Department lawyers wrote in their suit. The company controls at least 80% of primary ticketing at major concert venues and maintains a 70% market share in large amphitheater promotions.
“I’m concerned about that business practice,” Raistakka said.
The developers behind the project, Beam Construction & Management and Colas Development Group, declined to comment for this story. In statements, they’ve said Live Nation’s lease agreement includes clauses intended to protect the local music industry.
“We’re not trying to harm the independent music industry; we’re trying to set an example,” Andrew Colas, CEO of Colas Construction, said at a city-council meeting in September. “We’re making Live Nation do things they haven’t done in other cities.”
But Live Nation hasn’t publicly agreed to any such promises — and critics worry whether such pledges would be honored. “The company is being sued in 40-something states and investigated by the Justice Department,” Raistakka said. “I don’t know if their word matters.”
Dunphy and others have also criticized the location of the planned venue, between the Willamette River and a line of train tracks.
A freeway off-ramp feeds into the main road abutting the edge of the property. All this makes the area unfit for a venue of the size and scale proposed, opponents say.
“Those train tracks run at odd hours. They stop for up to 40 minutes,” Dunphy said. He’s concerned the proximity to these tracks will only increase the potential for accidents. He doesn’t think the city adequately considered that.
In a report, the city acknowledged concerns about the train tracks but concluded that the developers are not responsible for the decisions that visitors may take.
But worries extend behind fears of individual bad drivers. “What happens if there’s a fire? What happens if there’s a terrorism incident?” Dunphy said. “How do you get first responders?”
Some American cities are synonymous with the music that has come out of them. Nashville has country. New Orleans has jazz. Seattle had grunge. Detroit has soul.
Portland lacks a specific genre to distinguish itself — and yet the Rose City’s music scene is alive and well. Although perhaps the city’s most idolized musical export is singer-songwriter Elliott Smith, no genre dominates the scene. Instead, like the city itself, Portland music is eclectic, encompassing acts like the Lifesavas (hip-hop), Red Fang (metal) and the Decemberists (indie rock).
For Raistakka, Portland is a place where musicians can work their way up in the industry no matter their musical inclinations. That’s what he did. Bringing in an outside agent would disrupt that path, he said.
“I think that if you bring a more corporate structure in, it loses some of its culture,” Raistakka said. “I think that’s always been very, very unique, and it’s kind of scary to see it go away, or a bummer to see it go away.”
Raistakka is hardly the only one feeling that way. Part of the reason musician Alex Wilkerson moved to the city was its independent music scene.
“I would prefer if Portland could just stay independent,” Wilkerson said. “At this point, it’s an oligarchy. Every major corporation is just getting in.”
Still, Wilkerson is clear-eyed about changes on the horizon. Whether one likes it or not, Portland is following the same trajectory as other metro cities.
“I am completely anti-Live Nation in every way,” he said — but “I’m not sure exactly what can be done about it at this point.” If anything, “I’m surprised Portland has been this long without a Live Nation venue.”
The next step to stop the development would have been a challenge to the state Land Use Board of Appeals.
The deadline for such a challenge came and went without further action. Appeals are expensive, and the musicians galvanized against the project are volunteers.
Other opportunities may arise as the project gets underway. For now, though, the project lurches ahead. Developers hope to have the venue up and running in early 2027. As 2024 draws to a close, calls for resistance may soon be drowned out by the sounds of construction.