Live Nation x Ticketmaster

Candace Goodman
By Candace Goodman

The Death Grip on Live Music: Inside Live Nation and Ticketmaster’s Empire of Tragedy, Greed, and Control

By Candace Goodman | The Good Blog Investigations

The Music Industry’s Best Kept Secret

For decades, music fans believed they were buying tickets, supporting artists, and experiencing unforgettable moments of joy. But beneath the surface, a darker reality has taken root. Live Nation and Ticketmaster — the conjoined twin titans of the live entertainment world — have built an empire not just on sound and spectacle, but on monopolistic control, legal loopholes, and human tragedy. Together, they wield unparalleled power over every beat of live music: from the price you pay to the air you breathe in the crowd. And in their relentless pursuit of profit, they have left a trail of shattered lives, broken trust, and unchallenged corruption.

 
The Rise of a Juggernaut

Live Nation’s roots trace back to 2005, when it was spun off from Clear Channel Communications, a media conglomerate that already dominated radio. The goal was simple: monopolize the live music industry. What followed was a buying spree that absorbed promoters, talent agencies, ticket sellers, and venues across the globe. In just a few years, Live Nation evolved from a concert producer into an all-encompassing force with a hand in nearly every show you attend.

Ticketmaster’s story begins in the 1970s, founded by a group of university staffers who saw an opportunity in computerized ticket sales. By the late 1990s, it had already established a reputation for anti-competitive contracts and jaw-dropping fees. It wasn't just selling tickets — it was controlling access to culture.

The 2010 merger of Live Nation and Ticketmaster was heralded by executives as a new era of convenience. In reality, it was the start of an unregulated dictatorship over live events. Approved under the Obama administration with a so-called “consent decree,” the merger promised fairness and competition. Instead, it delivered near-total consolidation. By 2024, Live Nation-Ticketmaster controlled an estimated 80% of U.S. ticketing and major venue operations. There was no alternative. And that was exactly the point.

 
The Iron Grip of Control

Live Nation doesn’t compete. It dominates. Venues that dare to choose alternative ticketing platforms face subtle threats: lose Ticketmaster and you may lose access to top tours. Emails revealed in antitrust probes detail executives warning venue owners that defection comes with consequences.

Even artists are trapped. Many can’t tour without bending the knee to Live Nation’s terms. Want to play in major arenas? Sign with their promotion arm. Want exposure on a festival stage? You’d better agree to use Ticketmaster for all your sales. It’s not a marketplace — it’s a walled garden patrolled by gatekeepers.

The Department of Justice finally took action in 2024, suing Live Nation and alleging that the company had engaged in decades-long monopolistic behavior. The lawsuit, backed by 29 states, calls for the breakup of the Live Nation-Ticketmaster conglomerate. Attorney General Merrick Garland made it clear: the live music industry has become a rigged game, and the house always wins. 

 
The Human Toll: Tragedies on Their Watch

Perhaps most chilling is what has happened under Live Nation’s watch when the lights go down and the crowds roar.

In November 2021, the Astroworld Festival in Houston became a mass-casualty scene. As rapper Travis Scott performed, a crowd crush left 10 people dead and thousands traumatized. Warning signs had emerged hours before the tragedy, but security and medical response were inadequate. Emergency exits were blocked, staff lacked training, and Live Nation, the event promoter, failed to act.

This wasn't an isolated incident.

In 2000, nine people were trampled to death at a Pearl Jam concert in Denmark. In 2011, a stage collapse at the Indiana State Fair during a Sugarland performance killed seven and injured nearly 60. In 2021, three young men died of carbon monoxide poisoning at a Live Nation-run festival in Michigan.

These aren't just freak accidents. They are part of a pattern. International investigations estimate more than 200 deaths and 750 injuries have occurred at Live Nation events in the past two decades. The company has routinely settled lawsuits without admitting fault, allowing its safety protocols to remain outdated and underfunded. Fans pay the price. Some with their lives.

 
Ticketmaster’s Dirty Game

Ticketmaster’s public face is broken technology and unbearable fees. But behind the scenes lies something more insidious.

During the 2022 Taylor Swift Eras Tour sale, millions of fans logged on to secure tickets. What they encountered was chaos: website crashes, endless queues, and a general sale that was canceled entirely. Ticketmaster blamed bots. Lawmakers blamed the company.

But that fiasco only scratched the surface. Investigations revealed Ticketmaster holds back massive portions of tickets, releasing them in small, controlled batches to create artificial scarcity. It then sells many of these seats as “platinum” tickets — dynamic pricing driven by algorithmic demand that sends prices soaring into the thousands.

Then came the TradeDesk scandal. In 2018, undercover journalists exposed a secret Ticketmaster program that partnered with scalpers. The company actively encouraged bulk buying and resale on its own platform, collecting double fees. Ticketmaster’s executives turned a blind eye, profiting from the very fraud they claimed to fight.

The Power Behind the Curtain

Live Nation’s CEO, Michael Rapino, has quietly become one of the most powerful men in global entertainment. He’s made over $350 million while fans suffer endless technical failures and security lapses.

Its largest shareholder, Liberty Media, is led by billionaire John Malone, a right-wing political donor who has long advocated for deregulation. In 2020, the Saudi Public Investment Fund bought a $500 million stake in Live Nation, raising alarms about authoritarian influence in Western culture.

Meanwhile, Live Nation pours millions into lobbying efforts in Washington, D.C. It has close ties with both parties and uses its influence to stave off regulations that might loosen its grip. Like Big Tobacco before it, the company operates in full daylight, immune to the usual checks and balances.

The Turning Tide

After years of silence, the tides are shifting. Fans have begun to mobilize. Whistleblowers have come forward. Lawmakers are calling for divestment, transparency, and accountability. The Department of Justice’s lawsuit could finally split this Frankenstein of a company into pieces.

But we must ask ourselves: how did we let one company monopolize joy? How did we let the same people who failed to prevent crowd deaths also decide how much we pay to see our heroes perform?

Live Nation didn’t just monopolize ticket sales. It monopolized trust, access, and the very experience of music. Now, for the first time, the encore may belong to the people.

And this time, we’re not buying their tickets.