The Anxiety Economy

How WA's Music Industry Runs on Mental Health Exploitation

Meet Sarah, indie musician and unwilling participant in WA's anxiety economy. She works three jobs to afford rent while making music that generates virtually no income. She spends her "spare time" creating content for algorithms that might show it to five people if Mercury is in retrograde and the algorithm gods are feeling generous.

Her latest album took two years to record because she could only afford studio time in chunks between shifts at the café, teaching kids guitar, and precarious gig work. But hey, at least she's living her dream! Just ask her therapist. Oh wait, she can't afford one.

Welcome to WA's music industry, where "following your passion" has become code for "working for free while your mental health does a slow-mo impersonation of the Titanic."

Here's some delightfully uplifting data from Support Act's 2024 mental health report:

  • 73% of independent musicians report anxiety or depression.

  • 57% have experienced suicidal thoughts - that's 3.4 times the general population rate.

  • 53.5% report high psychological distress - four times higher than everyone else.

  • 43% use substances to cope.

  • 84% experience financial insecurity regularly.

  • Fewer than 20% feel safe at work all the time.

The median income for WA musicians? $14,700 annually. That's below the poverty line, folks. That's "choosing between groceries and guitar strings" money. That's "maybe I'll eat tomorrow" income.

And the benefits package? No sick leave - because creativity doesn't take sick days, apparently. No superannuation - retirement is for people with regular jobs. No insurance - what could possibly go wrong? No stable income - surprise! It's feast or famine forever. And no clock-out time when your career depends on constant visibility.

And modern musicians aren't just expected to create music. They're also their own social media managers, video producers, marketing departments, data analysts, customer service reps, and content creators. Did you go to music school to learn about hashtag optimisation? SEO? No? Funny that.

Dashboard data delirium.

The digital world means artists are "always on" - responding to comments, tracking metrics, promoting releases. There's no off switch when algorithms judge your productivity by engagement rates - and so do festivals and funding bodies. Social media has turned artistic success into a 24/7 slot machine where everyone can watch each other win or lose. Stream counts and follower numbers become self-worth metrics, despite being controlled by algorithmic factors like "did the meta-gods feel like showing your post today?"

Musicians Australia found that 62% of artists experienced workplace bullying, harassment, or discrimination. But when your workplace is the entire internet, good luck finding the HR Department.

“The industry's greatest achievement? Convincing artists this is all totally normal. Financial stress? That's just paying your dues. Mental health struggles? That’s just the price of authenticity. Can't afford rent? You're not hustling hard enough. Gaslighting? That’s just industry standard.”

The pandemic exposed creative career insecurity faster than you could say "lockdown." Across Australia, you were up for anywhere up to two years without performance income, while most musicians were ineligible for government support because their work didn’t fit neatly into employment or tax categories. Many venues that reopened cut programming from 5-6 nights to 3-4 nights weekly, or less. Artists went from kinda waving to actively drowning.

But for us the really twisted part of all this is that 92% of music-engaged Australians say live music improves their happiness and wellbeing. 72% say it helps manage stress, anxiety, or depression. So musicians sacrifice their mental health to heal everyone else's. Always the helpers who can't access help. Like every time there’s a bushfire - musos sacrifice income to play benefit concerts. And every time a venue (hey Mojos) needs a leg-up, musos are there championing the cause. Even our peak bodies and community radio stations lean on us for support, and definitely don’t pay us industry wage to play their benefits and conferences. But when we need support? Crickets…

When your industry normalises financial instability, isolation, and constant rejection, substance abuse stops being a personal failing and starts being a predictable outcome. But addiction treatment? Not covered in the "independent contractor" package.

And women and gender-diverse artists get bonus discrimination points. Pressure to maintain "marketable" images intensifies with age. Female artists report opportunities vanishing after 40, while male peers work into their 60s and then some. And this is super funny, because more than one-third of festival attendees are over 40 (many of them women) with serious spending power. But booking and respecting experienced female artists? Too radical.

WA's response to this mental health crisis? Thoughts, prayers, and suggestions about "resilience." Maybe CACWA should run some mindfulness workshops… Perhaps WAM could host a webinar about work-life balance for people who can afford neither work nor life.

“WA Government response? $375 million for sport, $315 million for fossil fuel subsidies, Less than $3 million for music. Comorbidities for artists? Priceless.”

Meanwhile, other places actually solve problems with practical programs. Ireland: €325/week Basic Income for Artists pilot, 82% report improved wellbeing. France: Intermittent du Spectacle covers 250,000+ artists between gigs. San Francisco: $1,000/month artist UBI pilot, 95% housing retention. UK: Music Minds Matter provides 24/7 helpline and therapy grants.

But of course, implementing such programs requires admitting artists are workers deserving dignity and support, as much dignity and support as mining workers, or sportspeople.

A $25 million UBI pilot for 1,000 WA musicians over three years would provide $25,000 annually per artist, reduce financial stress, allow artists to refuse exploitative work, enable long-term creative development, and generate crucial cultural data. That's less than 12% of Collie's coal transition budget.

We look at this differently - from an ecosystem perspective. The Pack Music Cooperative addresses mental health structurally. When artists own platforms, they're stakeholders with actual power. Community focus combats the isolation digital platforms create deliberately. When local communities value your work, pressure to achieve viral success decreases.

The Pack’s tracking platform will give you access to all of your stat, instantly.

Mental health isn't an individual problem requiring individual solutions. It's a structural crisis demanding structural reform:

  • Economic security: fair royalties, employment protections.

  • Sustainable work practices: actual boundaries around digital promotion and use of vanity metrics to inform funding and performance access.

  • Community connection: cooperative structures providing peer support.

  • Values-based success: measuring community impact, not just commercial metrics.

Every government, funding body, and industry organisation should be asking: Are we supporting artist wellbeing or systematically undermining it? The current system extracts maximum value from creative labour while providing minimal support. Artists burn out, give up, or worse.

We can continue this psychological race to the bottom, or build an industry treating musicians like vital creative workers deserving dignity, security, and basic mental health support.

Artists like us are waiting to see which version of humanity we choose.

The Pack is choosing a radical, muso-owned, artist-first, human only approach. We are unique - and we’re here for you. You can help us finish it. Donate to our campaign today.

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Death by a Thousand Closures

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The $3 Million Joke