Editorial Agenda

The mainstream narratives about how British culture was made tend to repeat the same names, the same cities, and the same institutional stories until they become the settled version. They're reinforced through media coverage, awards, heritage branding, and institutional storytelling. But the history of how creative work actually developed in this country is broader and deeper than those narratives suggest, and much of it hasn't been told.

Underrepresented and marginalised communities across the UK built cultural infrastructure on their own terms, often with no formal support, and produced the conditions from which celebrated scenes and movements later grew. Those histories hold lessons about what creative work actually needs to thrive, lessons that are directly relevant to the conditions the sector faces now. Some of that knowledge is held in archives and oral history collections. Much of it is held by people, and it's at risk of disappearing as the generation who built that infrastructure ages.

We're investigating the gap between mainstream cultural narratives, the origin stories underneath them, and what those stories reveal about how creative work is made.

The UK's grassroots music infrastructure is under severe pressure. The touring circuit has halved over thirty years, with artists averaging eleven shows in 2024 compared to twenty-two in 1994, and 175 towns and cities now have no live touring venue at all. Festivals are disappearing, venues are closing or operating at a loss, and the economics of live music at the grassroots level are increasingly difficult to sustain. Creator earnings in music were falling well before AI arrived, and the volume of content now flowing onto streaming platforms is reshaping what visibility and viability look like for working musicians.

The people working in music are among the most motivated in the creative industries. The Creative PEC Good Work Review found that music has the highest satisfaction rates of any creative sub-sector, at 88%, alongside the lowest median pay and some of the worst conditions for security. What the headline growth figures don't capture is what venues make possible beyond the performance. A grassroots venue is where musicians, sound engineers, lighting crew, and promoters develop craft through repetition, where artists find out what works in front of an audience, and where people find each other and new work begins. When that infrastructure thins, the development pathway thins with it.

We're investigating what's happening to the live music ecosystem across the UK and what it means for how music is made, developed, and sustained.

Local authority spending on culture in England has fallen by over 50% in real terms since 2009-10.⁸ Over 800 libraries have closed, more than 760 youth centres, and over 3,500 children's centres. Twenty local authorities have cut arts development entirely. Studios, rehearsal spaces, theatres, and community workshops have been lost across the country, and the places that remain are under pressure. At the same time, the government is investing £1.5 billion in cultural infrastructure, including new capital funds for buildings and facilities, while the revenue budget that pays for what happens inside those buildings faces real-terms cuts through to 2028-29.

The picture isn't only loss. Across the UK, people have built what they needed when nothing else was available. Artist-led studios, maker spaces, community venues, and meanwhile-use workshops have appeared in the gaps, created by the people who use them. Some are thriving. Many are precarious, operating on short leases, dependent on volunteer labour, vulnerable to development or rent increases.

One of the four priorities Smith named in 1998 was the protection of intellectual property, and twenty-eight years later the question of how creative work is protected remains unresolved. The government's AI and copyright consultation received over 11,500 responses, 88% of which supported a licensing approach, and the government has since acknowledged that its own preferred option was a mistake. The question of what happens to creative people's rights in a world of AI-generated content is live, urgent, and still without a clear answer.

At the same time, the investment that flows into the creative industries overwhelmingly favours one part of the sector. 85% of venture capital between 2013 and 2023 went to IT, software, and computer services, and the estimated equity gap for the rest of the sector may be as high as £1.4 billion.¹⁴ The British Business Bank is now exploring IP-backed lending, an approach that recognises creative businesses hold value in their intellectual property rather than in physical assets. Whether that reaches the 93% of creative industries businesses that are micro firms is an open question.

Dispatch has a dedicated area of inquiry covering AI literacy, the environmental footprint of AI in creative production, the speed of the current technological transition, and what a sustainable relationship with these tools looks like for people working in the sector. Our editorial position is that we don't publish on AI until we've spoken to the researchers and people working directly on these questions. We're currently in conversation with experts across the field, and this area of inquiry will open as those conversations develop.

If your research or practice connects to AI and the creative industries, we'd love to hear from you.

Manchester is where the investigation lives in a place. Greater Manchester has one of the most concentrated creative ecosystems in the country, with community-built infrastructure, grassroots venues, studios, and organisations that have been holding and creating cultural life for decades, some for over sixty years. The city also carries one of the most significant untold cultural histories in the UK.

We're investigating what's happening now for the people making and sustaining creative work across Greater Manchester, how the city's creative life was built and by whom, and where the opportunities for change are.