It’s been a roller coaster of a week for Josh King and Abbey Spoon.
Last week, the owners of the Flat Iron—a small but storied music venue in downtown Greensboro—sent out a call for help on social media. They bared their hearts, asking for help from the local community.
“SOS. Things are looking pretty bleak for The Flat Iron,” the message began. “We have taken quite a few hits over the last several months—a combination of things that are really tough to bounce back from when you’re already scraping by. Without going into too much detail, we really need your support.”
Not long afterwards, local musician Suzanne Stafford created a GoFundMe fundraiser for the venue. As of Tuesday morning, it’s raised a little over $45,000. People donated about $10,000 to their Venmo, too.
“We thought for sure it was a long shot,” King said. “Just like we thought our post was a long shot. We were blown away by the response.”
For years, the Flat Iron has stood at the corner of Lindsay Street and Summit Avenue, marking one edge of downtown. In decades past, it was a divey bar with pool tables, cheap beer, and sticky tables. In 2019, musician Charlie Hunter and owner Dusty Keene refurbished the interior and set up industry-quality sound systems, making it an anchor of Greensboro’s live music scene. In 2022, Keene sold the Flat to King and Spoon.
But things haven’t been easy. The pandemic shrank audiences and shifted people’s behavior. Patrons aren’t drinking as much, cutting into the venue’s profits. Plus, they’ve got some serious debt.
Due to a credit card issue, the business got behind on paying licensing fees for a while. They also found out they hadn’t paid certain taxes because the bills were going to the previous owners. That totaled about $20,000, with about half remaining to pay. They lagged on rent, which they said—thankfully—hasn’t gone up. Then their cooler and ice machine died.
Ticket sales are also unpredictable. Some shows sell well while others barely cover the cost of the musicians and the sound engineer. When they don’t make enough, all of the money goes to the artists, and none gets put back into the business.
“If ticket sales aren’t enough, we’re paying from the bar sales,” King said. “Then we operate at a loss. That happens more than we like to admit.”
This isn’t a unique problem. A 2025 report by the National Independent Venue Association found venues across the country struggling with rising rents, insurance costs, inflation, staffing costs, and marketing gaps.
Sixty-four percent of independent venues weren’t profitable in 2024, according to the report.
A few weeks ago, when King went out of town for a gig, he returned exhausted. Spoon was overwhelmed. They’ve both got full-time jobs outside the Flat Iron and two small children. It was getting hard to keep their heads above water. That’s when they decided to go for a Hail Mary.
“When Suzanne made the GoFundMe, we saw the number, and we were like, ‘Jesus Christ,’” King said.
Local musician and printmaker Peter Daye created t-shirts to fundraise, and several bands are planning a fundraiser concert at the venue in June.
While the couple found the response surprising, Stafford had a feeling the community would rally around the venue.
“I had no doubt it would do well,” Stafford said. “I know for how many people that place has been a sense of community.”
The Flat Iron’s thin margins come on the heels of several closures of long-running businesses downtown. First it was Dame’s Chicken and Waffles, then McCoul’s Public House, Europa Bar & Cafe, and Liberty Oak. Stafford didn’t want the Flat Iron to meet the same fate.
“The thought of losing one of the last bastions of places that I feel comfortable at and a place to play,” said Stafford, who used to play in the Matty Sheets open mic nights at the Flat Iron decades ago. “A piece of my youth was going to die if that happened.”
‘The Rehearsal and the Playroom’
When King and Spoon took over the Flat Iron four years ago, they had a vision to create the best-sounding music venue in the city.
“When [King and Spoon] took it over, it changed to be a really good listening room that’s supportive of the artists and audience,” said musician Laurelyn Dossett, who recently finished a residency at the Flat Iron and has played at Carnegie Hall with Rhiannon Giddens. “The Flat Iron holds a special place in Greensboro’s ecosystem. If they go away, the loss will be palpable.”
With a max capacity of about 100 people, the venue is one of the city’s smallest. While larger businesses like the newly opened Pyrle, Ziggy’s—now The Move—and Hangar 1819 exist, the Flat Iron caters to both national acts and newer musicians who need an intimate space to play.
“It’s a place to innovate and experiment,” said musician Molly McGinn, who has been going to the Flat Iron for decades. “The smaller places are lower pressure. You can try out that new project, you can record live albums. It becomes the rehearsal and the playroom and the place to shoot your video. It allows these artists who are trying to figure out a business model a really affordable place.”
Leroy Pridgen IV, the musical director of the Too Phat Brass Band, owes the beginning of his live musical career to the Flat Iron, he said.
“The Flat is just so unique in the sense that it is a place for any local artist from any genre to do a ticketed show, to perform their original music, and not be expected to do any type of specific set,” Pridgen said. “It’s very much a spot where any local artist that wants to do a show is able to reach out and book a show and build your own niche in the community.”
For years, Too Phat—a New Orleans-style brass band—has played a Mardi Gras celebration at the venue. The gig was one of the first regular shows the band booked.
“We really only had shows at the Flat for three years until we picked up in the last year or so,” Pridgen said. “It’s really because of the Flat that Too Phat has stayed together as a group.”
This year, the band made the North Carolina Folk Festival’s main lineup for the first time. Pridgen is also performing as a solo artist.
“[Josh and Abbey] have been so supportive of me as an artist,” Pridgen said. “They work with anybody in terms of what your audience is, no matter how big or small you are.”
But that comes with its own drawbacks.
Larger places can book bigger, more well-known acts that pull larger audiences. At the Flat, the ticket sales ebb and flow.
“At the end of the day, with a smaller venue, it’s hard for the band and venue to make any money,” King said. “The hard part is capacity.”
But King and Spoon were intentional about keeping the Flat small. As a musician, King came up playing smaller venues. He found that intimacy lent a different experience, and one he wanted to create in Greensboro.
“One of my bands got to the point where we were packing out Greene Street back in the day. We were selling out, then people moved away,” King said. “We moved over to the Blind Tiger, which has a 500 capacity room, and we had about 200 people there. It felt kind of empty because it’s a bigger space. After we got done, we felt bummed out that we didn’t do our job, but the reality is that 200 people out in Greensboro is a great show.”
Ticket prices are another limitation. Most of the Flat’s tickets range from $12-25. The relatively low pricing was influenced by King’s experience as a teenager going to shows.
“Those were some of the shows that shaped who I am today,” he said. “It’s important to have those shows. I think they’re important for the kids of our community. I needed a place to go, and I believe they do too.”
But King recognizes something needs to change. Even with this influx of funds, he said he and Spoon will have to rethink the way they run their business.
“I think having this money is going to give us time to really make this work and really listen to the people who gave us this money to make it last,” he said. “I’ve been overflowed with so many ideas, and I’m open to all of them.”
‘It’s Given Us New Life’
With the $55,000 they’ve raised so far, King said they plan to immediately pay off debts, catch up on rent, and replace some equipment. They’ll focus on finding ways to increase profit moving forward.
King is considering opening the bar for extended hours and rethinking their marketing strategy.
“Everything that everybody gave is going to go back into the business, 100%,” King said. “Our goal is to be transparent with what we’re doing with everybody’s money.”
As a for-profit business, the Flat Iron doesn’t qualify for many grants and funding opportunities for area nonprofits. That’s hard, King said.
“It’s almost like we should be a nonprofit,” he said. “It’s not anything we wouldn’t want to do. It’s not not an option. It might be a sort of relief.”
Downtown Greensboro Inc. has provided some funding, and the Wyndham Championship has offered some past financial support, he said. But so far, the city and local arts councils haven’t.
“I think it’s obvious that they should be,” King said. “It’s apparent just from the last 48 hours. This is so much bigger than me and Abbey. It’s about the 400-plus people who have donated to the GoFundMe. They want this place to exist.”
Jocquelyn Boone, the chief creative economy officer for the city of Greensboro, said she sympathizes with the Flat.
“They are a beloved venue,” she said. “I was in Memphis two weeks ago, and I ran into a musician who talked about the Flat. People know about it. It’s Greensboro’s best-kept secret.”
Boone said she wants to talk with business owners about how the city can help places like the Flat stay afloat. She’s seen how other venues across the country have struggled, too, and urges elected officials to take action.
“It’s a larger conversation around our creative ecosystem,” Boone said. “Cities should definitely be paying attention to these businesses.”
Laura Way, president and CEO of the Arts Council of Greater Greensboro, had more practical advice.
“The thing I say to every artist and every arts organization that walks through my door that says, ‘We need to raise more money, the city’s not supporting us,’” Way said. “And I mean this in the nicest possible way, but what is your business plan?”
“Have you built a business plan that supports the activities you are doing?” Way asked.
Looking around, she points to thriving businesses like the new Marshall Muse Gallery and Borough Coffee, housed in the old Double Oaks Bed and Breakfast, as “third spaces” in the community.
“It’s about how people interact with spaces,” Way said. “That’s not to say that the Flat Iron is doing something wrong, but I think you almost have to be someone’s living room now to really engender a strong audience.”
The Arts Council of Greater Greensboro supports artists in the area through grants. It also has a community calendar to which businesses can contribute.
The council’s professional development courses and meet-ups to help entrepreneurs learn business skills, Way said.
“This is not the Flat per se, but you spend your money to create your creative product, but you don’t spend the money to develop the business that allows your business to flourish,” Way said. “You have to spend time on both.”
According to a report the council released last year, many arts organizations are facing some of the same challenges. Nonprofit organizations are relying on major donors and endowments, which leave them financially vulnerable. Organizations also lack marketing budgets, and there’s a lack of collaboration between entities, the report noted.
Way said she would be happy for King and Spoon to attend some of the professional development courses and to get to know other business leaders in the community.
“They’re committed to their community,” Way said. “I admire them for that, but it does begin to wear. I can imagine they’re tired, but this is a shot in the arm, and something could change here.”
Still, musicians like McGinn said the arts council and the city could be doing more to help places like the Flat.
“We have a wonderful arts council that’s constantly wringing their hands about how we can support the local arts community,” she said. “We have to think differently about how we can support the arts.”
McGinn started by canceling her Spotify subscription and donating to the Flat Iron with that money instead.
“It’s time for me to get my ass off the couch and go see some live music,” she said. “This is something I can do.”
Looking to the future, King said, he wants to make the business sustainable.
“I just want everybody to know that we’re taking this so seriously,” he said. “We didn’t expect this response at all. It was kind of our give-up post. It’s given us new life. We’re going to do what we can. It’s everybody’s space, and we want to keep it that way.”