Martin Schrader left the music business at the end of 2018. He and his partners sold Mainland Music to Live Nation, then he became a winemaker, and spent five years learning to listen to slow things. But the vineyard got too quiet. Now he’s back, together with Maisch Gosteli, reviving REDDA music into a market more consolidated than the one he left.
On September 23rd, I met Martin Schrader and Maisch Gosteli at Restaurant Viadukt in Zurich to talk about passion, money, and a rumour.
This summer, you announced that REDDA music was making a comeback. What sort of reactions have you had from the Swiss music scene?
Martin Schrader: We’ve received words of support from our future competitors, along the lines of: “We’re looking forward to working against each other.” (laughs)
Maisch Gosteli: The reactions have been overwhelmingly positive, from agencies and bands right through to sections of the audience. That confirmed to us that we’ve got something cool on the go.
Martin, you switched from the music business to the wine business in 2018/2019. Recent headlines in that sector haven’t exactly painted a rosy picture of the future. And the music business has also been in crisis for years. Why move from one crisis to the next?
MS: Well, if you put it like that, it really was a daft decision on my part. But seriously: I didn’t leave the music business because I’d had enough of it. It was because I’d found something else that gradually drew me in. I was certain I’d regret it if I didn’t give working in the wine business a go. At the end of 2018, after we’d sold Mainland Music to Live Nation, I stepped down, did a winemaking apprenticeship and then focused entirely on my new job for five years. It demands something completely different from you and requires a totally different focus. You have to listen for the subtle things and track the slow developments. It’s the complete opposite of the music business.
Was this change easy?
MS: No, this change of perspective initially took its toll on me. But after five years, I’ve settled in and started to realise what I still miss: the hustle and bustle of life. Of course, there’s plenty of alcohol in a winemaker’s life, but it’s not quite as lively. In farming, you’re often on your own; it can be lonely. That’s never the case in the world of live music, and I’ve always enjoyed being around people. I carried that realisation with me until the opportunity arose, together with Maisch, to get back into music.
MG: I wasn’t involved in the wine trade, except perhaps as a consumer. (laughs) Martin and I both have our roots in hardcore punk and complement each other very well. I even applied for a job with him once, back when he was still working for Mainland Music. In recent years, I’ve mainly worked for venues from the ISC to Bad Bonn. Of course, it’s comfortable to have a permanent base, but I do feel a desire for a more open working environment that takes me to different places. And we’re planning for that variety too. We need to balance small club gigs with bigger events.
You complement each other well. What exactly does that mean?
MG: I’m familiar with the agency world mainly from the perspective of a venue and festival organiser. Martin, on the other hand, has far more experience in this field, including from a time when the music business still had more loyalty. He’s been able to reactivate many of these old connections for REDDA music. I, on the other hand, bring a lot of exciting new acts from my work at Bad Bonn; while they may not fill large venues, they’re still important for the agency. It’s an extremely dynamic environment, and our business needs both established bands and up-and-coming newcomers whom we can support and help develop.
Martin, the sale of Mainland Music to Live Nation was, of course, not your decision alone. Nevertheless, the decision taken at the time seems to go against your values. Is the return of REDDA music a form of making amends? Or to put it another way: do you personally regret the sale?
MS: So, back in 2015, I’d already decided that I wanted to do a winemaking apprenticeship at some point, having gradually delved deeper and deeper into the subject. In 2016, I told my partners at Mainland about this. We then decided to take two years to train up a team to carry on the work with the roughly 250 international bands for whom I’d been the point of contact in Switzerland. All these people are still in the business and are doing a brilliant job. Unfortunately, they’re now working for the competition. (laughs)
Between 2016 and 2018, two international corporations approached Mainland, expressing an interest in a takeover. I did take part in the negotiations to help establish a basis for a decision. But in the end, I abstained from voting because I was stepping down anyway. Honestly, I’m glad I didn’t have to make that decision. Because if I hadn’t gone along with the winemaking, it would have been almost impossible to weather the pandemic with a new, small one-man show in music business.
So no, I don’t regret the sale. It was definitely the right move for the team and the goals Mainland Music had at the time. And I don’t see the return of REDDA music as a form of redemption. Maisch and I simply share a passion, and there was that realisation again: we were certain we’d regret it if we didn’t give it a go.
On your website, you state that REDDA music is all about the artists and their fans, not the shareholders. That’s a nice dig at certain competitors in the concert market. How is this statement set to be reflected in your work?
MS: We’re DIY organisers and have taught ourselves the ropes. When you go from fan to organiser, you feel a sense of responsibility as a host. On the one hand, towards the bands: I want to put on the best possible gig at the best possible venue at the right time. On the other hand, towards the audience: I want a real connection between the band and the audience. It doesn’t always happen, but that’s the magic of the moment—the kind you can draw on for a long time to come. It’s all about the band, the audience and the venue. There’s no need for shareholders in this equation. That’s where we veer into the political: should money even be allowed to make money? Why should shareholders profit from a gig, rather than just the club, the band and the organiser? That’s absurd.
MG: It is our company. We’ve put our money, our heart, and our soul into it. It’s important that there’s another independent promoter who can organise lots of shows. Driven by this motivation, Martin’s path and mine have crossed time and again—and eventually so firmly that we’re now heading in the same direction together.
You say REDDA music has a solid financial foundation that lets it book gigs at both small clubs and large arenas. What is your runway?
MS: In the wine business, the maths works out like this: for the work you do today, you’ll be paid in two years’ time. So you need to be able to self-fund for two years. In the music business, it’s only one year. You still need side jobs and hope things are progressing well enough to pay wages. But the message is, of course, also aimed at the bands we believe in: we can pre-fund tour expenses.
And the discussions we’ve had in the meantime show, above all, that confidence in the work we have done so far and the relationships we have built carry far greater weight.
You are entering into a strategic partnership with the Bierhübeli in Bern. What form will this collaboration take?
MS: We were specifically looking for an independent partner with a certain standing who could produce large-scale shows. After all, we cannot yet afford to set up our own production department. We’re starting off lean. Bierhübeli was already a long-standing partner and is an independent company that has further expanded its network through the acquisition of AllBlues. The decisive factor, however, was that synergies outweighed overlaps. As for the musical style, we never get in each other’s way, so we quickly found mutual interest in supporting one another where needed.
You’re promising small club gigs, but also big arena shows. That’s quite a range.
MG: When I look at our schedule, it’s mainly smaller shows at the moment. But we already have a few larger productions lined up, as that is our explicit aim. To survive, we need to offer the full range. As much as we love small venues and DIY venues, we won’t be able to finance the business from these shows alone. At the same time, the larger venues are constantly in need of new acts who need somewhere to cut their teeth. It’s, of course, a wonderful prospect to accompany a band from their first small gig right through to the arena.
But these larger venues are a dying breed. Next year, Komplex 457 is being demolished, and X-Tra is closing its doors, even though Impact Hub Zurich says concerts will continue there. That’s quite a stumbling block for you lot, isn’t it?
MS: It depends on the situation. It wasn’t a blocker for us yet. We’ve submitted a request to the Volkshaus Zurich for 2028 and have been given the date. But the current situation will certainly have an impact. If you want to book something at the Volkshaus for next autumn right now, it’s likely to be incredibly difficult. Halle 622 is now developing an option to offer a small capacity within the existing venue at a comparable rental price.
Despite that, some shows that would have taken place in Zurich will certainly be held elsewhere. This presents an opportunity for French-speaking Switzerland—for example, Les Docks in Lausanne, the Z7 in Pratteln, or even the new KiFF in Aarau. That’s a fantastic venue, which is due to open there soon.
MG: I see it as our job to bring the bands to Switzerland anyway. To persuade them to play at these alternative venues in Zurich. The Salzhaus in Winterthur, the Fri-Son in Fribourg. They’re cool venues. And it’s important for the fans. You look at the tour schedules and get excited, but then they skip Switzerland. That’s happening more and more these days.
Janosch Tröhler-Nordström
Certain venues on your list—most notably, I suppose, the Z7—have developed a distinct stylistic identity and built up a community. You both come from the rock and hardcore scenes. Will this be your focus?
MG: No, we don’t have any clearly defined genres. That’s no longer in keeping with the times in 2026; people listen to much more diverse music. Of course, we have our own musical background, which comes with a wealth of knowledge and connections. The key criterion is that we’re convinced by the music and the band. We don’t have to be die-hard fans, but we want to sense the potential. Whether it’s a hyperpop act or a true metal band doesn’t matter.
So, identity and community aren’t something to keep in mind?
MS: In my experience, it’s neither possible nor necessary. The audience isn’t interested in that at all. The focus is on the band, and which organiser’s logo appears on the poster matters less. Of course, our newsletter will evolve in a certain direction and perhaps build a community. But it’s not about everyone recognising our logo in five years’ time. It’s about creating as many of these magical moments as possible. We’ll stay in the background.
Over the past 12 months, a number of agencies have ceased trading or scaled back their operations significantly. The pressure is mounting, and the market is highly competitive. How do you navigate the many pitfalls?
MS: We’re throwing ourselves into it with enthusiasm, but without a business plan. (laughs) We didn’t have one when we set up Mainland either.
MG: You mention examples like Glad We Met or Orange Peel, which I was also quite close to in a way. The reality is that an agency needs to be able to organise larger shows itself, not just those with a capacity of 200 to 300. It’s not that these examples only put on these shows or offer no other services, but at that scale it’s very, very difficult. You can’t retain the bands if you lack the expertise to stage larger productions.
MS: You need a good balance between booking acts and putting on your own productions. You need your own productions to attract 1,500 or more attendees so you can pay the wages. If you’re just booking acts for a 15% commission, you’d have to book an absolutely massive number of shows.
The major event organisers in Switzerland all belong to an international group. These groups can manage musicians across several markets and countries. Does this hinder your work, or do you find that artists appreciate not having to bow to these often criticised giants?
MS: The Swiss market is dominated by two major corporations. We’re feeling the relief especially in Germany, where we can reach management more easily. Many bands in the alternative scene are fed up with the ‘either-or’ situation. This also affects certain festivals, which you can only play at if you’re signed to one of the two duopolists. We believe this niche will exist and grow in demand in the future, but we’ve yet to prove it. However, it’s a logical consequence of ongoing consolidation: when all the beer brands belonged to Heineken and Carlsberg, three craft beer breweries popped up in every town. Not all of them brewed better beer, but at least a more honest one.
MG: We offer an opportunity for all bands that take a stand. We’re not the only independents in Switzerland, of course. But when it comes to our musical direction, we want to create a platform where acts can not only voice their political slogans on stage, but also act in accordance with their convictions and stay independent.
Maisch, you’ve also recently taken on a booking role for m4music. Is REDDA music now sneaking in through the back door?
MG: The role involves co-managing the booking alongside Sandra Feller from Salzhaus Winterthur. m4music can, of course, benefit from my contacts through REDDA music, but we continue to work with a wide range of partners and event organisers, as we have in the past.
There are consistent rumours that Santosh Aerthott and Christian Gremelmayr might join you, two former Mainland Music partners who have been recently “sidelined” at Good News. Can you confirm or deny?
MS: We are unable to comment on this at present.
When we sit down together again in two years’ time, what would have to happen for you to say that REDDA music has failed?
MG: There’s one crucial figure: how many shows were we able to organise? If we couldn’t book and produce enough of them, then REDDA music didn’t work. I don’t want to quote a specific figure here, but I don’t really think about it much either. If it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll have given it a go. I think that’s just as important as any potential success.
MS: I can only agree. For me, it would be a failure if we lost the enthusiasm for it. We do have the idea that we could make a living from it, and perhaps even hire someone to help with production and promotion at some point. But if things turn out differently and we both still need a second job, yet we can still bring exciting bands to Switzerland, I wouldn’t see that as a failure. It wouldn’t be a hobby either, though…
Because the expectations are different?
MS: Exactly. We’re both professionals in this field and have both made a living from it before. Sure, from that perspective, you could also say that we’ve failed if we don’t manage to build it into a viable business. But that doesn’t sit right. Maybe we’ll just be the ones who bring the coolest new guitar bands to Switzerland—and nothing more. As long as we can keep the fun and the passion alive, that counts for more to me.
MG: Our goal is to build a solid, cool company. The only stakeholders in this endeavour are we. We’re at the helm, can do things as we see fit, and say no to bullshit. That’s the freedom that comes with independence, with all its pros and cons.
And finally: When can we expect some news? When will you be announcing the first shows?
MS: We’ve set our sights on 1 January. Announcements before that are pushed through the venue’s and band’s channels. Tickets for the first show are already on sale: Chasing Abbey, this November at the Hafenkneipe.
MG: I’ve got one—unsurprisingly—at the Bad Bonn: Maquina., in February 2027. What’s certain is that we’ll be giving a major update with news and confirmed shows in early January.
