Inclusivity is also about money

Inclusivity has become one of the defining words of electronic music. It appears in lineups, manifestos, and press releases. We celebrate diverse programming, safer clubs, more mixed spaces. But there’s another form of exclusion that rarely makes it into the conversation, a quieter, more systemic one: money. Inclusivity doesn’t mean much if it’s not also financial.

Dancing together has become expensive. Between tickets, transport, drinks, and sometimes accommodation, a night out can cost more than a day’s rent. In a time of rising prices and stagnant wages, many simply stop going out. And with them, a part of the dancefloor’s social diversity disappears. We talk about safe spaces, but not enough about cheap spaces. Both should coexist.

Electronic music was never meant to be exclusive. It was born from the margins, from communities that created joy despite limited means. Clubs and festivals were spaces of emancipation, not showcases. Today, many events call themselves “open to everyone” while their entry fees shut out those very people they claim to represent. This contradiction isn’t symbolic; it’s structural.

Some are trying to change that. In Dortmund, Tresor.West launched the #SaveTheUnderground campaign, experimenting with new ways to make nightlife both authentic and sustainable. Under the banner By the Community, for the Community, they hosted free Community Nights and outdoor events with unannounced local lineups. The goal: break free from the headliner economy and reconnect with the local scene.

Since the new season began, some paid nights have returned, but Community Nights remain free. Tresor.West also created a Soli-Kasse, a solidarity fund that offers a set number of free tickets every weekend. All it takes is an email to the team. Guests on the free list are even encouraged to donate a small amount to help fund future entries. It’s a simple, grassroots system that works — proof that fairness and sustainability can coexist.

The goal isn’t to shame promoters or artists already struggling to stay afloat. It’s to rethink balance. Sliding scales, solidarity pricing, daytime events, all of these measures protect diversity rather than dilute it. The issue isn’t only financial; it’s cultural. A scene that only reflects those who can afford it loses its purpose.

Making nightlife accessible is how we keep it alive. Electronic music was built on the idea that everyone deserves a place on the dancefloor. If we’re going to talk about inclusivity, it has to include money, too.
Because inclusion doesn’t start on the dancefloor. It starts at the door.