If you’ve ever wandered into Feldman’s Deli on a Friday night, you might have caught Mike Feldman—“The Deli Man”—strumming his guitar, delivering heartfelt blues to a packed house. What you might not realize is that Mike is more than a sandwich maestro; he’s one of Salt Lake’s most passionate advocates for live, local music. We recently sat down with Mike to talk about the state of Utah’s music scene, the challenges local musicians face, and what it’s going to take to build something stronger.
Mike’s musical journey started decades ago in a garage band called The Rainy Daze (spelled D-A-Z-E, of course), where he played high school dances and jammed with college friends. After years away from the stage—choosing to focus on family and career—he found his way back to performing thanks to the very business he and his wife built: Feldman’s Deli. Inspired by the musicians they hired at the deli, Mike picked up his guitar again, eventually performing not just at his own place but at venues around town.
So where does Salt Lake’s music scene stand today? According to Mike, we’ve got no shortage of talent. “The talent is almost limitless here in Utah,” he says. From the blues to bluegrass, swing to rock, we’ve got musicians who could hold their own on any stage. But while the talent runs deep, the infrastructure supporting that talent is fragile. “The critical mass for the music scene is small and fragile,” Mike points out. “We don’t have a central place where we all meet. There’s no central calendar, no publication that lets everybody know what’s going on.”
It’s not for lack of trying. Open mic nights still provide valuable opportunities for musicians to hone their skills and test new material. Mike himself regularly plays at open mics at places like Tailgate Tavern, Pat’s Barbecue, Level Crossing, and High Point Coffee. These spaces welcome new faces and create vital connections between musicians. But finding gigs beyond these grassroots spaces? That’s another story.
Mike highlights a big missing piece: technology that serves musicians. While venues like Gracie’s and Hog Wallow post schedules, it often takes serious digging for fans to figure out what’s going on each week. And calendars that used to help, like City Weekly’s pre-COVID music listings, don’t serve the community as effectively anymore. Mike envisions a single, integrated platform—something that pushes updates to fans, helps venues promote shows, and connects musicians with resources like recording services, lessons, and bandmates.
Why hasn’t this happened yet? Part of the problem is economic. Utah musicians who want to go beyond a few local gigs a month eventually hit a ceiling. “If you want to give up your day job and be a musician full-time… that’s hard here in Utah,” Mike explains. While you can develop your talent here—there are plenty of jams, workshops, and Facebook groups for networking—building a sustainable career is another matter. Many, like blues artist Tony Holiday, have had to leave Utah to find management, booking agents, and other resources essential for a professional career.
Festivals and larger venues face similar dilemmas. While places like Red Butte Garden occasionally feature local openers, the economics make it hard for local bands to headline. “If I can see a local musician for free at Gracie’s, why would I pay $75 to see them at Red Butte?” Mike asks. The costs of putting on festivals and large shows have skyrocketed, from paying for venues and equipment to hotels and security. That means promoters have to book big names who can draw larger crowds—leaving our local musicians on the sidelines.
Beyond the structural challenges, there’s the changing taste of audiences. Electronic dance music (EDM) and DJs are pulling in younger crowds. Traditional bands—with their guitar solos and live drums—can feel like a harder sell. Still, Mike remains optimistic that the appeal of real musicianship will endure, especially if we can get young people into family-friendly venues to experience it firsthand.
And what about the venues? “We need more,” Mike says plainly. “And we need more family-oriented venues so young people can get in and listen to live music instead of just hearing it through their earbuds.” While places like Pat’s Barbecue and Feldman’s Deli do their part, most live music happens in bars, limiting the audience to those over 21.
In the end, what Utah’s music scene needs isn’t just talent—it’s community. We need audiences who show up, venues willing to take a chance on local acts, promoters who see the value in homegrown talent, and maybe most of all, better tools to bring everyone together. The Garage on Beck is now gone, joining the Dead Goat and the Zephyr as beloved but bygone venues. If we want to keep our scene alive, we’ll have to build something new.
Mike sums it up best: “We’ve got plenty of talent. But we have to build out the music scene. We need to create better venues. We need to create better earning opportunities for musicians. And if we can all work together to do that—and if the fan base shows up, gets excited, invites friends, and shares posts—that all helps to build a strong music scene.”
For now, you’ll find Mike gigging around town, supporting other musicians, and doing his part to keep the music alive. And maybe, just maybe, with a little more collaboration and a lot more heart, Utah’s local music scene will finally get the infrastructure it deserves.
