A large social media following does not necessarily guarantee high attendance at music events and concerts. Two artists in Cairo reflect on what it really takes to fill a venue.
Amuna WagnerAmunaWagnerCairo-Based North Africa Correspondent
The co-founders of Cairo-based collective Ganoob are building a fanbase and selling out venues without only relying on social media.courtesy of Ganoob.
Nazli Reda has worked as a sound engineer across Egypt and the U.S., in the Gulf and Sudan. One thing she notices is that a musicians’ social media following is often no indicator for how many people will come to their show.
“It’s easy for you to follow an artist online, but you won’t necessarily leave your house for them,” she tells OkayAfrica. Geography is a factor, too; a musician that speaks to a widely spread out diaspora might not have a large group of fans in one place.
Reda believes that there has been a change in many younger fans’ commitment to musicians they listen to. “Many artists don’t build that relationship with their followers by playing multiple shows and showing people it’s amazing to see them live,” she says. “In the older generation, some artists have no social media presence at all, but people are so excited about their shows.”
So what does it take to sell out a venue nowadays?
“For musicians, social media is the name of the game, because people like to see a face,” says Mahmoud El Shabba, a curator, DJ and A&R coordinator at Raad Records. But there’s more to it. “Promoting stuff on social media only almost feels impersonal to a lot of people.”
Mahmoud El Shabba is a curator, DJ, A&R coordinator at Raad Records and co-founder of Ganoob.courtesy of Ganoob.
El Shabba is one of the three co-founders of Ganoob, a music sharing platform and collective based in Cairo. They spotlight music from the Global South, especially in physical forms like cassette tapes, records and CDs.
Ganoob’s first couple of guided listening sessions zoned into Egyptian pop and folklore, trying to lessen the gap between what people recognize as Egyptian pop music today and what it was in the 1970s and 80s. While this is a rather niche endeavour, the collective has managed to sell out their events despite neither of the co-founders having a large social media presence.
Personalized programming
“I think the reason it resonated with people so much was that it felt like a departure from the oversaturated club scene,” says El Shabba. “In Cairo, we’re so constrained with venues, we don’t really have malleable third spaces. Sometimes a good idea can fall short, because it’s being produced in the wrong space.”
The paradox in Cairo is that the music event scene is simultaneously oversaturated, not diverse enough, full of people who are eager to go out but not necessarily invested in specific event series or artists.
“I am witnessing a shift towards a slower approach to all facets of life, but music and art in particular.” - Mahmoud El Shabba.courtesy of Ganoob.
“I think the words ‘curatorial’ or ‘tailored’ are thrown around a little too loosely sometimes,” says El Shabba. “A lot of organizers aren’t willing to get into the nitty gritty and present something novel, because it’s the slower path to success.”
From AI-generated concert flyers to exclusivity rather than accessibility, an artist playing at a traditional venue in Cairo might not fill up the space, because the entrance rules, ticket prices or promotion do not draw in enough people.
“One comment we've gotten consistently so far is that Ganoob just feels down to earth, or it feels like people can really see themselves in the programming,” says El Shabba. He acknowledges that Ganoob’s intentionality and ability to keep ticket prices low–which helps to sell out an event–is made possible in part because it is a passion project rather than a vocation.
“I think it serves for a venue to be able to wear different hats because you're able to cater to a lot of different audiences, and that can generally boost the success of an event and potentially help it sell out.” - Mahmoud El Shabba.courtesy of Ganoob.
The privilege of word of mouth
In North Africa, there is a notable intersection of class and language. Many young Egyptians with spending-power tend to respond to English, but the country’s majority speaks Arabic. A successful artist manages to reach both of these audiences by advertising and performing in more than one language.
In a place that is so tightly structured around community, an easy way to combat the oversaturation of social media is utilizing word of mouth. “It’s easy to say that word of mouth is important, but it matters which mouth,” cautions El Shabba. “If you get your name on the right people’s tongues, it flows a lot easier. So there’s a barrier to entry there, and a class-based trust system that helps a sort of nepo economy.”
Perhaps merely filling a venue, then, is not the ultimate goal. “Selling out an event is one thing, but selling it out with the right kind of people or with enough of your target audience to make something sustainable is a whole other thing,” says El Shabba. “It’s about finding people who honestly resonate and want to be there, not just because they want to get a picture for the gram.”
“There are many obstacles between me and a venue in Cairo,” jokes Mahmoud El Shabba about the difficulties of navigating such a large city.courtesy of Ganoob.
Building a loyal fanbase
“Virality feels so within reach for so many people in Egypt,” says El Shabba and cautions that if an artist has found unexpected success, their effort to maintain it often leads them to a reactionary artistic process, rather than organic creation. Egyptian Canadian artist Ashtold OkayAfrica the same thing.
Instead, the best strategy to sell out venues remains a loyal fanbase that is willing to spend time and money with an artist they enjoy. Oftentimes that means slowly building a community around art, rather than trying to catch a high tide on social media that will eventually ebb back into obscurity.
