Mike Luba Turned Forest Hills Stadium Into a Destination for Top Acts — Then Got Sued for It

At the beginning of 2013, Mike Luba says he dragged Mumford & Sons’ Ben Lovett to Forest Hills Stadium in Queens on a sort of vision quest. He was working with the band on its Gentlemen of the Road Tour and knew that Lovett had grown up in the tennis town of Wimbledon, England. An avid tennis fan and player himself, Luba wanted to sell the band on “playing a gig at the Wimbledon of New York.”

Built in the 1920s, the stadium, which adjoins and is owned by the West Side Tennis Club (WSTC), had been the site of the U.S. Open for six decades and, in the ’60s and ’70s, hosted a series of landmark concerts by The Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, Barbra Streisand, Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan, to name a few. But those days had long since passed when Luba says Lovett “took two steps into the site, which at that point had trees growing out of compost piles in the bowl and hadn’t been touched in decades. Ben looked at me and said, ‘This is nothing like Wimbledon. It’s a total fucking train wreck. But we can do a proper rock show here.’

“That was early 2013,” Luba recalls. “They played that August. That’s how fast I did that.”

Almost 11 years after that first concert, Forest Hills Stadium has evolved into the Chateau Marmont of outdoor venues. Luba and his team have restored much of its ’20s vintage vibe and rehabbed a dozen or so funkily decorated speakeasy-style rooms that ring the stadium floor. (One is entered through a port-a-potty; another, a phone booth.)

A self-described “hippie punk-rock dude,” Luba says the stadium, which has a capacity of about 13,000, will stage “30-ish” events this season in a hypercompetitive market for venues. Neil Young and Crazy Horse, The National, The War on Drugs, Khruangbin, Tiësto, King Gizzard & The Lizard ­Wizard and Pitbull are among those that have played or will play this season. And in early June, Hozier sold out four nights — a first in the stadium’s 101-year history.

Box office results have grown accordingly. In 2019, the stadium grossed $6.7 million; in 2023, it took in $22.1 million and finished at No. 17 for the year among venues with capacities between 10,001 and 15,000, according to Billboard Boxscore. Along with that success, however, came an ongoing legal battle with the local homeowners association, the Forest Hills Gardens Corporation (FHGC), over alleged noise levels and unruly crowds.

Luba had much to say about the contretemps during this conversation with Billboard, which took place in the small hut where he works on the stadium grounds. He also discussed his unique employment arrangement. Luba is a partner in Tiebreaker Productions — which holds a long-term lease to the stadium — with his previous full-time employer, AEG, and its subsidiary The Bowery Presents, as well as some overachiever friends from his high school tennis team. Since last July, he is also Live Nation’s executive vp of strategy. (It’s his second turn at the company: He worked with then-chairman Michael Cohl in the early 2000s.) Given the rivalry between the two live-industry giants, his dual roles can be a tightrope walk.

Eleven years later, how has the stadium evolved?

We realized early on that the place itself was inherently magical. So we just leaned into making it feel like when you come here it’s in its 1920s state, but we are using 2024 technology. So much of the credit for that goes to [stadium GM] Jason Brandt and the work that was done. For years, every penny we made got poured back into it. The food and beverage program has totally been elevated. I’m personally most proud of the fact that we now have real bathrooms that are plumbed into the main sewer system of the city. We’re tied into the power grid instead of having to bring in generators. We’ve put in tons of points of sale for bars so there’s no lines. The load-in went from being three days to four hours. You can pull your trucks right up to the stage. It has really reduced the impact on trucks coming in and out of the neighborhood.

How did you build your season lineup from a few shows to around 30?

The second year we did five. That was right when I started at AEG. I did a walkaround with [chairman/CEO] Jay Marciano — he had previously run the Garden — who told me, “You will never book more than six shows here. The competition is too much.” I said, “Jay, if it was just me, you’re probably right, but my partner Don Sullivan is one of the great promoters of all time. There’s no way we’re not going to be able to book six fucking shows here.” Sure enough, the second year we got five — and the fifth one was a major favor. The first three seasons — 2013, 2014 and 2015 — were all bands that I’d either slept on their couch or they had slept on my couch. I had been their agent or their manager, and Jay and I were cashing in 30 years’ worth of chips. Zero income.

What did you do to turn that around?

It was really word-of-mouth. The bands told other bands. The crews told other crews. And then people who came to shows told other people. Our original ticketing system was Ticketfly, so we had no mailing list. There was no institutional way to market.

When did your battle with the Forest Hills Gardens Corporation begin?

This was the first master-planned neighborhood ever in America, and it happened to include the tennis club and the stadium. The governing body is the Forest Hills Gardens Corporation, with whom we had an incredible relationship for a decade — multiple presidents, multiple boards. It’s an all-volunteer board, and it changes every couple of years. We did everything in consultation with them, we paid them, and at the end of every season, we would sit down and have a postmortem of what was good, what was bad and give them a check.

They had an election, and a new president [Anthony Oprisiu] comes in. It turns out he has a serious grudge against the tennis club. There are all sorts of rumors about what it is. Whatever it is, there’s no rational anything. It doesn’t make any sense. [Editor’s note: A spokesman for the FHGC denies this, saying, “The FHGC board — made up of 15 members — voted unanimously to commence litigation because of the WSTC and Tiebreaker’s unacceptable behavior.”]

So this beef is more about the tennis club than the concerts?

Yeah, but we’re the easy target. The tropes are so prevalent: rock’n’roll, people creating garbage, pissing everywhere, puking everywhere. And it’s just not true. However, to the general public, it all sounds reasonable. This guy and like three to five board members are like the Matt Gaetzes, Marjorie Taylor Greenes — the Freedom Caucus of Forest Hills. They are willing to destroy it for the 600 people who work here on every show and the more than 375,000 people who come here to enjoy the music.

Haven’t you also addressed their complaints about sound levels?

The first year we got here, the conventional wisdom was that in the old days, the sound was blowing up over the top of the stadium. So, we did a full acoustical study, and the engineer was like, look, in the ‘60s you were basically plopping giant speakers on the stages and blasting it. The PAs now are so sophisticated with the line arrays that we can control the direction of it. He said, we can get it so that there’s no sound going over the top, but it will go down the stairwells. If you cover the stairwells, you’ll trap 98% of it. Then, he said, “What step do you want the earmuffs to go on?” I’m like, “Man, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He said, if you tell me step six, when you hit step six going up to the seats, it will feel like earmuffs get put on your head. Then when you get six steps from the top, you’ll feel like they come off.

Sure as shit, it totally works. We built these bass traps over what used to be kind of dodgy and scary stairwells up into the bowl and after the first show people were freaking out because they’d go into the stairwell and it’s like a sensory deprivation thing. So, we put up signs that say, “You’re standing in a bass trap,” and something like, “These walls were designed specifically to keep the music from reaching our neighbors who are right across the street.” Working hand-in-hand with the DEP, we’ve now built the same sort of enclosures over the ground-floor exits. Outside of putting a roof on it, every hole is blocked. We had Primus ripping on Saturday and there was a moment when I was in the concourse, and I was like, shouldn’t they be on?

You gave the corporation a check at the end of each season, and they wanted more?

They wanted $100,000 a show instead of the $5,000 we were paying them. If we wanted to book 20 or more shows, it went to $200,000 a show.

How did they arrive at those numbers?

They made some calculation based on gross ticket sales and attendance, with zero knowledge of our costs. Basically, the only way we survive is selling beer. We have no parking. The bands take all the money, and we’re competing with [Madison Square] Garden, Barclays Center, Central Park, Prospect Park, UBS Arena, Jones Beach and on and on. No one is cutting anyone a deal. [Editor’s note: According to the FHGC spokesman, due to its “decadeslong relationship” with the stadium, it did not charge the market price it charges other entities for closing its streets. He adds, “In light of the stadium’s unwillingness to work in partnership with the FHGC, the FHGC is no longer willing to subsidize the operational costs of the stadium.”]

Where do things stand now?

We got an injunction, which remains in place while this is being litigated. Most of the lawsuit is to make us follow the law and pull the proper permits, which we’ve always done and will continue to do. The judge granted their request to have an independent sound monitor here for every show. We had suggested that the [Department of Environmental Protection] be the independent monitor. They’ve dinged us when we’ve been out of code. They’re a city agency. They have no horse in the race. They’ve dinged us when we’ve been out of code. But after the judge granted their request, they realized they would have to pay for the independent monitor — because it was their request — and they freaked out. Then they wrote a letter withdrawing the one thing that they won because when they won it, they went out to the neighborhood saying they had a triumphant, majestic win in court, and the neighbors were like, whoa, we’re paying for it? 

What does the tennis club make of this?

This tennis club is the largest member of the Forest Hills Gardens Corporation. They pay more dues than anyone else. They sued the board for breach of candor and breach of their fiduciary duty because essentially the club is going to be funding the lawsuit against itself. [Editor’s note: In a statement, Oprisiu said, “FHGC remains open to a compromise that respects our community and historic norms of behavior at the club. To date, [the WSTC] and Tiebreaker have yet to share a meaningful proposal for our community to consider. Instead, they have recently tripled the number of events and focused on personal attacks on the board with offensive innuendos and gossip. We’re confident in our legal standing as recently supported by the court’s ruling.”]

You actually own a piece of Forest Hills, right?

The entity is called Tiebreaker Productions. Don Sullivan and I, my high school tennis team, and the guys at MTheory, JT Myers and Nat Pastor, put up the original bread. Then, the MTheory guys said, we don’t want to be in the venue business, and they sold their share to AEG. Then, when AEG acquired Bowery Presents, they got that share.

You’re serious about the high school tennis team?

Dead serious. I have these five friends who have stayed friends since kindergarten. We all went to Wheatley High School in Old Westbury, Long Island. Some of us went to college together. At least once a year we try to get together, and it happened to be the night after I did the walkthrough here. By far, I’m the black sheep of this highly overachieving group. One guy was an incredible high school tennis player. He was considering turning pro but ended up going to Yale and was the best Ivy League tennis player. a freshman. When I explained that I wanted to keep Forest Hills Stadium independent and not sell it to AEG, he looked at me and said, “I love tennis. I love music. Let’s try it.” We were all blotto at that point. I said, “Okay man, tonight go home, take $2 million, put it in a suitcase, go out into your backyard and just torch it. If you can stomach that then welcome to the music business. He called me the next day and said his wife wouldn’t let him do the suitcase thing, but he still wanted to try it.

How did you come to work for Live Nation?

When my deal was potentially coming up at AEG, [Live Nation chief strategy officer] Jordan Zachary called. I was ready to move on. It finally all worked out, and Live Nation gave me this incredible opportunity. I get to work on tours with artists that I love and care about. I get to help them on [business development] when they do new building projects or any kind of venue stuff, and I get to participate a little bit on the big-picture strategy.

How does Forest Hills fit in with your Live Nation work?

From day one, Forest Hills was an open room, like the Garden or the Staples Center. When AEG [took a stake in Tiebreaker], they became the promoter partner, but if there was a band that wanted Live Nation to promote their tour, they would come in. This year, half of the shows we do will be Live Nation and half will be Bowery. When I started back at Live Nation, we began to educate the industry that the idea of playing Jones Beach and Forest Hills is now possible. You look on a map and they’re 27 or so miles apart, but for those who live here, they might as well be Mars and Jupiter. There’s an ecosystem now where Pitbull can play Jones Beach and Forest Hills, as he will, and both will sell out.

How do you balance the Live Nation-AEG equation?

My real job is at Live Nation, and my partners here are Bowery and AEG. The companies clearly don’t like each other, so it’s a little tricky. There’s real-life proprietary shit that I’m dead serious about, and I keep it very, very separate. That’s why I sit out here by myself. I’ll go into the Live Nation office once in a while, but I try to stay out of all the drama. I’m really thankful that both AEG and Live Nation let me exist in this space. And it’s important to me that Live Nation understands that I’m on the Live Nation team. It’s a testament to Rapino and Jordan and that team being open-minded. I mean, I hated Live Nation.

That’s right, you manage The String Cheese Incident, and they sued Ticketmaster for allegedly denying them their direct-to-fan ticket allotment. [The suit was settled.]

Yeah, we sued them under the antitrust act and we probably would have won. But now I see it from the other side that company is full of people who really love music, take real pride in their job, work really hard, and do it at a really high level.

We’ve reported on how Gen Z is not consuming as much alcohol as previous generations. Would you consider selling pot in the way, for instance, that Outside Lands has Grasslands?

I will consider as soon as it’s legal. There’s no reason not to. For me, alcohol is way more dangerous than marijuana. At least in New York State it’s a really gray area. I’m by no means an expert on this, but I think it’s mostly because it’s not federally legal, so there’s no way for the banks — no one knows how to deal with the money part of it. Until there’s some way to actually transact on it, I don’t think we can legally do it anywhere. It’s coming, though, for sure.

What are the most pressing issues facing the live business right now?

Climate change is making it very hard to do outdoor events. I’m worried that at some point they become uninsurable. Every morning, I wake up and multiple shows are canceled in places that have never had [weather issues], like 80-mile-an-hour winds shutting down Lovers & Friends in Las Vegas. And that happens over and over. It’s also become excruciatingly expensive. The supply chain issues are real, labor is real. Five years ago, you could get a bus for $5,000 a week. They’re now $13,000 a week. It’s really hard for bands to tour.