About “Spooky Szn”. Once and for all.

Why use Substack when you already run a blog?

Wow, what a year. Goathead just reached its biggest month since last January’s LA fires, when our community email hit 70,000 reads in a single day, a moment born from tragedy that shook Los Angeles, but also revealed the strength of our community. That was never about metrics; it was about showing LA our undeniable support during crisis, and it became one of our clearest signals of will.

Fast forward to now, our engagement has surpassed even that milestone. We crossed 370,000 clicks in just 28 days. Along the way, countless artists have shown us the same support we’ve shown them, reminding us why Goathead exists in the first place: as an independent Los Angeles record and management company built on connection, resilience, and authenticity.

That same spirit is alive in Spooky Season. What started years ago as a tongue-in-cheek Halloween tradition for those of us who wanted a break from the usual Q4 chaos has become one of our defining rituals. Satirical, sharp, and unapologetically funny, Spooky Szn, and its unlikely spokesman, Lil Skeleton, has connected with artists in ways we couldn’t have scripted.

For many, it’s entertainment and reflection rolled into one. For a small 1%, it’s been called offensive or “discriminatory rhetoric.” We hear that. But the truth is, Goathead spends real time and resources fostering independent voices, supporting artists who might never even get close to the gates of traditional record companies. If you don’t think we take a risk by associating the brand we’ve built with independent artists still grinding to build their first fanbase, ask yourself why the industry gatekeeps in the first place.

Spooky Season is satire, always has been. Commentary wrapped in wit, not a weapon. And if it rattles someone, maybe that’s proof it struck a nerve worth looking at. If it offends you, let me be blunt: maybe this industry isn’t for you. Because the more you speak, the more you’ll encounter resistance. The sooner you learn that, the stronger you’ll be.

The world today is fractured, polarized, and overwhelmed by hate. We keep Goathead apolitical, but we’re not blind: atrocities and division surround us daily. That’s why satire matters. It strips egos, punctures illusions, and forces compromise.

I was reminded of this watching Netflix’s Monster: The Ed Gein Story. It was criticized for “idolizing” real monsters. But in one scene, a character channeling Tobe Hooper, the director of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, put it perfectly: “We don’t make these movies because the world needs them, but because the world deserves them.”

That line stuck with me, especially after an artist decided to part ways with Goathead over “the way we do rhetoric.” No worries about a smear campaign yet, we are not losing sleep. But you and the rest of the 1% who took offense know exactly who you are.

The truth is, media has always been freedom, even when it walks the edge of morality. Ed Gein was a real-life monster, yet his story inspired Hitchcock, Hooper, and others to create films that reshaped cinema. Hitchcock himself had projects cut or buried because companies feared the fallout of his vision. But art that unsettles is often the art that endures.

At Goathead, we made our own compromise. We will not lie to artists just to keep the peace. We won’t pat you on the back and say your work is flawless when it isn’t. That’s not leadership—that’s babysitting. We push because you can do better. And so can we. If we demand more of you, it’s because we demand more of ourselves.

That’s what makes Goathead different. We don’t chase easy applause. We don’t operate to please algorithms. We build relationships, we cultivate voices, we give chances to those who might never get one, and we push boundaries—especially when it stirs resistance. Because if you’re not willing to be challenged by those who actually care, this industry will eat you alive. Not with open attacks, but with silence—or worse, with empty praise that traps you in mediocrity.

Spooky Season was never about cheap shots. It’s about perspective, satire, reflection. Showing artists that they exist in a bigger world than their own echo chamber, often plagued by comparison and delusions of grandeur. Remember: you have to earn the right to complain. If you’re not getting the attention you want, maybe start listening to the people who actually know how to break artists.

Some get the joke, some get the message, some get offended. All of that is fine. But pretending it doesn’t matter? That’s not Goathead.

In the end, this company doesn’t exist to play it safe. It exists to prove that independent music can be bold, fearless, and unfiltered. That we can take the hits, withstand the backlash, and still stand taller on the other side. Because the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about at all.

So yeah—do better. Expect better. Demand better. From yourself, from us, from this whole industry.

And to the Chappell-Roan types standing on Grammy stages preaching “we can do everything we want, but labels should pay artists more”—don’t accept a multi-million-dollar award funded by the same label that paid millions to put you there. Start by putting your own money where your mouth is.

If that makes Goathead polarizing, good. Polarizing means we’re alive.

More story. Less playlists.