what did Melodic mean for Liverpool?
A look at the legacy of the radio station on the city's creative industries.
Back in autumn 2023, shortly after Melodic closed, a version of this piece, looking at the state of music in the North West was written for a national outlet. But as bigger events unfolded around the world, the piece was pushed and then axed as it was no longer ‘timely’ – but it still started to ask some important questions about the state of the arts, so we’re resurrecting it here.
“The city’s responding like someone’s died—it's that level of shock and disappointment or sadness about it going. Perhaps because we just really didn’t expect it to happen,” Maxim Croshaw, a local DJ, manager, and promoter, told me at the time.
Melodic Distraction, established as an online radio station in 2015, was a key player not just in Liverpool’s music scene but the wider North West. Ask around the city and it won’t take long to find someone who was involved with Melodic in some way – whether hosting a show, as a producer or, often, simply as an enthusiast.
When I did exactly that last year, interrupting the mourning process for many, people tended to linger on two particular points: the way in which it helped diversify Scouse music and acting as a gathering space for various overlapping communities.
“Melodic was really magical as an outlet for specialist music in Liverpool” Mo Ayoub, a broadcaster and DJ who hosted a show with the station explained, “it was an undeniably unique space.”
That specialist element was key, helping carve out a space for music that didn’t quite fit into the genres that dominated the encampments of live (indie rock) or electronic (house & techno), particularly in the late 2010s.
Instead, hosting a show on the station was a way to share and develop interest in more ‘niche’ genres. Radio was at the core, broadcasting over 200 shows a month but the venue, opened later when Melodic moved to the Fabric District, became increasingly important for music development.
Some shows later turned into events in the small venue space, bringing audiences together over those ‘specialist’ genres or introducing people who had just swung by for a quick drink to something new entirely.
Having a smaller venue with a more alternative, or experimental edge, was also valuable for others in the city. When approached by people wanting to put an event on for the first time, Megan Green, events programmer at 24 Kitchen Street, would often suggest they try out Melodic first. Besides being a smaller, Melodic didn’t charge venue fees and paid all contributors –a less risky environment to test new ideas.
“It was a stepping-stone for people” Megan summaries, “it could bring in new communities for niche genres.”
Once again, that word, community. It’s a word that that comes up without fail in relation to Melodic. According to Callum Wilson, Resident Advisors’ Liverpool city manager, “it was a central pin for freelance creatives, a hub that wasn’t genre bound but community bound – that’s why it was significant.”
That also explains why the closure reverberated so significantly around the city. At the time, it launched a thousand conversations about the state of the city’s scene – whether in the Kaz or on Twitter. For many, it felt like an avenue for the early stages of artist development was closing down.
“It was a platform with professional opportunities; a chance to build a portfolio, to use studio equipment; invaluable in this industry” summarised Natasha Evans. As founder of Queensway, an organisation supporting underrepresented genders in electronic music and once a producer at the radio station, she knows first-hand how invaluable that support can be.
As in many creative industries, such opportunities, when they exist at all, expect emerging artists to give their time freely.
The team at Melodic didn’t stand for that.
“It’s about values. Artists deserve to be paid and having those opportunities in the North West is really important,” says Daniel de la Bastide, a photographer and formerly the events manager at Melodic Bar.

In other words, they eased the burden on artists to relentlessly self-fund, creating opportunity for creatives who couldn’t work for exposure. Just a year ago it would have been easy to point to Melodic as an example of how music could be done better, more sustainably.
But small venues across the UK have been under mounting pressures, first with the lockdowns and then with the spiralling cost of living crisis.
Not all that long ago, the Financial Times argued that we might be on the brink of another roaring 20s, a decade of vast cultural output. Instead, a 2018 Music Venue Trust (MVT) report to parliament showed a “substantial decline” in small venues operating across the country.
The impact?
Reduced access to live music, fewer earning opportunities for artists, work for promoters, and, for audiences, reduced access to affordable live music events.
Despite initiatives like Supporting Grassroots Live Music (SGLM), closures have persisted. MVT reports that around 125 venues, just under 16% of grassroots music venues (GMVs), shut in the last year alone.
In autumn last year, after a tough summer, venues in the city had been hoping for a strong start to the club season this autumn. When I spoke to promoters and programmers in October 2023, the message was clear: it hadn’t come.
“From Meraki’s perspective, it was getting better. Everything dies down for summer, but we were expecting this big surge to come back,” Maxim told me at the time. “Normally from September onwards, club season's back but it’s been more like ‘what the hell?’ For a lot of events there's half the attendance we were expecting.”
There are various theories as to why this is the case, from the cost of living to people’s habits changing. Miggs wonders if people have become more accustomed to being at home or are nervous about buying tickets lest the experience is limited without a full venue.
At SVARA Radio, Mark’s biggest concern is getting people to support independent venues, especially to get crowds in for lesser-known artists and genres.
“We get a lot of the city’s most exciting outfits on the radio,” he explained, “with complete creative freedom and we encourage them to promote whatever they've got going on through our platform.” Driving awareness, he hopes, will get people through the door.
For Maxim, though, “people are just skint”. Although there’s been discussion of lifestyle changes from rising sobriety to a growing preference for earlier events but, although bar takes are lower, he’s noticed it’s the “big DJ gigs, off your head vibes, are the ones that still sell.”
One thing that most agree on is that the city, if not the whole country, is lacking a supportive policy environment.
“It's really shocking to compare with other cities like Berlin, that venues aren’t valued and protected” Natasha said, echoing the thoughts of many across the city, “it puts an insane amount of pressure on the founders of these businesses.”
Closures don’t mean that talent isn’t there, but that opportunities are fewer. Some impacted by recent closures in the city are already looking to move further afield.
Mo had already moved down to the capital to work win radio when Melodic opened. It was the first time that anything similar existed back home in Liverpool: “I remember reaching out to them like I ain't nobody, I ain't shit, but I wanted to be involved and have an impact back home.”
There was a symbiotic relationship between Melodic, artists and the local scene, he thinks. Many of the Liverpool’s young creatives passed through it at some point.
And so, the closure sparked fears about talent development and opportunity going forwards. But that concern has also pulled the community together again, from DJs to producers and beyond, to find a new way through.
“It was the final straw” Miggs says, “like, right Melodic is closing – we have to do something now.”
They’re on the case, and there are plenty of venues, promoters, and artists still wanting to take risks and put on new, exciting and risky music.
“If SVARA goes as far as Melodic did,” Mo offers up as an example, “then that’s great too – like, I can go home and know that I don't need to listen to The Wombats.
Get down on it:
23/05 Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio (Future Yard)
24/05 Courting (District)
24/05 The Staves (Arts Club)
25/05 Ibido Sound Machine (Future Yard)
26/05 King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard (Olympia)
On repeat this week:
Chororô (Os Tincoãs)
iLL (BIG SPECIAL)
I Think I'll Do Some Steppin' (On My Own) (Sandy Barber, Opolopo Rework)
Nada personal (Soda Stereo)