More music festivals are being canceled or downsized this year than at any point in recent memory. From Spain to Nashville to the UK, a mix of low ticket sales, rising costs, and changing tastes is hitting organizers hard. And for longtime fans, it’s starting to feel like the end of an era.

Festival Culture Isn’t What It Used to Be

“It used to be the one thing I’d save all year for,” says Jules Harding, 29, from Manchester. “Now I look at the lineups and think, is this worth £400? The acts feel recycled, and the whole experience is just too much stress.”

That feeling is spreading. Across Reddit, TikTok, and fan forums, people are airing similar frustrations: higher prices, weaker lineups, and less of the spontaneity that made festivals exciting in the first place.

In 2025 alone, over 40 festivals have either canceled outright or significantly downsized. That includes events in the U.S., Canada, Australia, and across Europe. Some, like Brisadela in Spain, pulled the plug just days before launch. In Ireland, Sea Sessions won’t return. In Australia, Splendour in the Grass and Groovin the Moo are on pause due to “economic pressure.”

In the U.S., long-running festivals like Firefly, Made in America, and Music Midtown are already gone.

The Money Just Doesn’t Stretch

For many fans, the cost is a deal-breaker. “Between the ticket, the camping gear, food, drinks, and getting there, you’re talking £600–700 easy,” says Jordan Meeks, 34, who skipped festivals this year for the first time in over a decade. “That’s a week abroad.”

Will Page, former Spotify economist, says there’s been a shift in priorities. “In 2012, people could do both—see their favorite act on tour and hit a festival. Now they pick one.”

And it’s often not the festival. Fans are going all in on stadium tours—Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, The Weeknd—where they know what they’re getting. Festivals, by contrast, feel like a risk: unfamiliar acts, unpredictable weather, and rising costs everywhere.

“You’re asking people to spend hundreds for a maybe,” says music blogger Kayla Levenson. “Maybe the weather holds. Maybe the acts are good. Maybe it’s worth it.”

Corporate Overload

Part of the frustration is how festivals have changed. “It used to feel like you were discovering something,” says Omar Benitez, 41, from Austin. “Now it’s all branded tents and giant queues for £10 beers.”

Smaller festivals with tight margins are folding, while bigger ones are owned by corporations like Live Nation or AEG. That has meant bigger names—but also less room for risk-taking and more mainstream repetition.

“Lolla used to be weird and cool,” says Ciara O’Hanlon, a fan from Chicago who’s been attending since 2004. “Now it’s the same headliners I could see on TikTok or a tour stop.”

Even die-hard attendees are feeling let down. “I don’t recognize half the people on the poster anymore,” says Michael Trent, 38, who’s been to Bonnaroo every year since 2006. “And the people I do recognize are playing everywhere else too.”

The Weather Isn’t Helping

2024’s Electric Forest was hit hard by storms, forcing early closure and cancellations. Refunds were limited. Some fans are still angry.

“Two of the headliners got pulled last minute, and they didn’t even offer partial refunds,” says Samantha Liu, 26, who flew in from Boston. “I won’t go again. That was my holiday budget for the year.”

Festivals are increasingly at the mercy of unpredictable weather. Rain, lightning, extreme heat—any of it can trigger cancellations. “It’s part of the gamble,” says Levenson, “but not everyone wants to roll the dice anymore.”

Organizers Are Feeling the Heat Too

It’s not just fans struggling. Promoters are dealing with higher artist fees, bigger insurance costs, and less financial wiggle room.

Smaller events can’t always recover. “It’s a credit crunch, plain and simple,” Page says. “They can’t take risks, and many don’t have the capital to bounce back if sales stall.”

Even last-minute postponements raise red flags. Midwest Dreams, an EDM festival in Missouri, was delayed a week before launch, blaming tornado damage. But attendees noted that other events at the same venue continued. Refund windows were brief, and many fans remain skeptical.

“Feels like they used the weather as cover,” said J.R. White, who bought two VIP passes and had flights booked. “I just want my money back.”

Fans Are Looking for Something Else

Many younger fans are finding alternatives: smaller shows, local festivals, even house parties.

“The best gig I went to last year wasn’t a festival,” says Nora Evans, 23, from Birmingham. “It was a band in someone’s garden with 50 people. No queues, no stress, just music.”

The All-American Rejects are even doing a house party tour this year—skipping venues in favor of backyards and bowling alleys.

That’s not to say festivals are dead. But the days of assuming people will pay whatever for a weekend pass may be over. Loyalty is wearing thin. Expectations are higher. And more fans are choosing control over chaos.

“Festivals used to be freedom,” says Omar. “Now they feel like a gamble.”