In the heart of Utah’s ever-shifting DIY music scene, Jeff Dillon has carved out a path defined by resilience, community, and a quiet defiance of industry norms. After nearly two years away from the stage, the singer-songwriter has returned with renewed purpose — moving from heartbreak-heavy songwriting toward music rooted in hope, embracing the challenges of being an independent artist, and rethinking what it means to succeed in a landscape dominated by algorithms and consumer-driven trends.
In a world obsessed with metrics, Dillon’s philosophy is refreshingly grounded — make art because it matters, build connections because they last, and create spaces where Utah’s artists, bands, and communities can thrive together.
TLDR — Jeff Dillon on Utah’s DIY Music Scene
- Jeff Dillon’s Return → After a two-year hiatus, Dillon returned to performing solo, debuting new, hope-driven songs and reconnecting with Utah audiences.
- Adopt a Native Elder → Outside of music, Dillon works with a nonprofit supporting Navajo elders, providing essentials and fair trade opportunities for artisans.
- Burnout & Balance → He reflects on juggling writing, recording, and performing, finding new creativity by stepping back from constant shows.
- Passion Over Profit → Dillon views music as a personal passion, resisting capitalist pressures to measure success by algorithms or monthly listener counts.
- DIY Marketing Realities → Small-scale paid ads rarely deliver results; Dillon stresses the power of organic growth and community over expensive promotion.
- Solo vs. Band Dynamics → Solo acts offer more flexibility and accessibility, while bands bring shared energy and support on stage.
- Releasing Music Today → Dillon grapples with whether to release full albums, EPs, or staggered singles as streaming reshapes listener habits.
- Better Shows, Better Community → Advocates for mixed-genre bills, earlier start times, and after-show events to build stronger connections between Utah bands, fans, and venues.
- Building a Personal Brand → Wants to tour more to expand reach, though he can see doubling down locally to cultivate a tight-knit fanbase as worthwhile, as well.
- Fostering Connection → At its core, Dillon’s philosophy centers on creating meaningful spaces where music builds community, not just consumption.
Chapters
- Returning to the stage with fresh eyes and a full heart
- Burnout, balance, and making art in a capitalist, consumerist culture
- The grind of marketing, DIY promotion, and paid ads that don’t pay off
- Solo artists vs. bands: access, vulnerability, and pressure
- Releasing music in a changing industry
- The benefits of mixed-bill shows and earlier events
- Touring vs. local roots: Building a personal brand
- Fostering community and building connections
- Reimagining Utah’s music scene
- Frequently asked questions
Returning to the stage with fresh eyes and a full heart
In September 2023, Jeff Dillon played his last show with his band. Nearly two years later, he returned to the stage for his first solo performance — just him, a guitar, and a packed room. “I kept saying to myself beforehand, ‘Hopefully one person I know is going to be there. As long as there’s that one person, I’ll be all right,’” Dillon recalls. But when he walked into The Heavy Metal Shop in Salt Lake City, it was full with both new and familiar faces.
This return marks a new chapter in Dillon’s journey as both an artist and a human being. Over the last few years, he’s undergone a shift — away from writing “sad sack breakup songs” toward music rooted in hope, self-improvement, and resilience. “I don’t want to just be putting out sad songs constantly… My personal attitude has changed,” he explains. “In the last year, I’ve done a lot of self-improvement mentally and physically. I’m in this space where the things I’m writing are more full of hope.”
Supporting our Indigenous neighbors with Adopt a Native Elder
Outside of music, Dillon works for Adopt a Native Elder, a Utah-based nonprofit that supports Navajo elders — people aged 75 and older who continue to live a traditional lifestyle. The organization provides food, medical supplies, household items, and fair trade opportunities for Navajo weavers, silversmiths, and artisans. “The hope of our program is to allow them to continue to be Navajo, to continue to be Indigenous, and not be colonized,” Dillon says. “These are the last true generation of Indigenous people left in this country.”
Adopt a Native Elder also helps artisans sell their work at fair prices. Dillon describes the difference: “They’ll come to us and say, ‘I need $1,000 for this rug.’ And we sell it for $1,000. Otherwise, they’d take it to a trading post and get maybe $150.” Each year, the organization hosts a rug show — traditionally at the Snow Park Lodge in Deer Valley — showcasing hundreds of handwoven Navajo rugs and featuring live weaving demonstrations, storytelling, and cultural events.
For Dillon, this work is deeply personal and deeply connected to community-building, values that show up in his music as well.
Burnout, balance, and making art in a capitalist, consumerist culture
Dillon’s nearly two-year break wasn’t just about stepping away from shows — it was about rediscovering balance. Like many Utah artists, he struggles to manage the competing demands of writing, recording, and performing. “I’d bring a new song to the band, we’d start working on it… and then we’d get a show booked. Suddenly we’re practicing the setlist instead, and that new song would get shelved,” he explains. “It happened over and over.”
During the hiatus, Dillon gave himself permission to write without deadlines or distractions. In the past year and a half alone, he’s drafted more than 15 new songs. That time away reignited his creativity but also reaffirmed his perspective on why art matters.
“I’ve always looked at music-making as more of a passion and a hobby than something to monetize,” he admits. “It’s extremely hard to make money from music, and I haven’t cracked it. But I’ve realized the reward isn’t in the metrics. If a song connects with one person — if it makes one person feel understood — that’s worth more than 900 monthly Spotify listeners.”
This philosophy pushes back against capitalist pressures to measure art’s value in numbers, algorithms, and likes. “Art is for consumption at any level,” Dillon says. “If 10 people listen, that’s 10 people experiencing your understanding of life. That’s a beautiful thing.”
The grind of marketing, DIY promotion, and paid ads that don’t pay off
For Utah musicians trying to build an audience, marketing is a relentless grind — and Dillon knows it better than most. “It’s insane,” he laughs. “The business side, the promotion, the flyers, the designs, the paid advertising on Instagram… It’s a lot.”
But does it work? “No,” Dillon says flatly. “Paid ads feel like gambling. You throw $25 into Instagram and it tells you your post might reach 8,000 people, but at the end of the day, you check the stats and… nothing. No RSVPs. No new fans. It’s just the algorithm playing the stock market.”
Dillon has seen the other side of the equation, too, through his nonprofit work. “At Adopt a Native Elder, we’ll drop $2,000 on paid ads for a rug show, and we’ll get 1.3 million interactions. At that scale, it works,” he explains. “But for a band page with 700 followers? A $25 ad isn’t moving the needle.”
The takeaway for small artists: without big budgets and a dedicated analytics strategy, paid ads are unlikely to deliver real returns. Most independent Utah bands rely instead on organic content, word of mouth, and building local community.
Solo artists vs. bands: access, vulnerability, and pressure
As Utah’s music scene evolves, Dillon has noticed a shift toward solo performers — and he understands why. “I love playing with a band, but it’s different,” he explains. “When you’re up there solo, it’s vulnerable. If you make a mistake, everyone hears it. But being solo also opens doors — I can play the Heavy Metal Shop, I can play coffee shops, I can play smaller spaces where a full band wouldn’t fit.”
That accessibility has fueled a rise in Utah solo artists, but Dillon is quick to note that bands bring their own advantages. “With a band, you’ve got support. You’ve got energy bouncing off each other. And honestly, if I screw up, it’s easier to hide it.”
In many ways, this tension mirrors broader dynamics in Utah’s DIY scene: solo artists can navigate more venues and opportunities, but bands often deliver a larger, more lively experience for audiences.
Releasing music in a changing industry
For Dillon, one of the hardest questions is how to release new music in today’s fractured landscape. “I’m an album guy,” he admits. “I want to sit on my couch with the booklet, read the lyrics, and listen start to finish. But that’s not how most people consume music anymore.”
He now debates whether to release a full-length record, an EP, or a series of staggered singles — a dilemma many Utah artists share. “Do I spend $5,000 on a five-song studio session? Do I release two songs now and two more later? There’s no right answer anymore,” he says. “Everything has changed.”
As streaming platforms reshape audience behavior, artists like Dillon are forced to adapt, balancing personal artistic values with practical realities of discoverability and audience engagement.
The benefits of mixed-bill shows and earlier events for Utah’s music scene
Utah’s music scene is full of tight-knit circles, but Dillon wants to see more cross-pollination. “It’s high school,” he laughs. “Ogden punks, Salt Lake Sartain people, Piper Down regulars… everyone sticks to their clique.”
That mentality, Dillon argues, limits both community growth and audience potential. He’s a strong advocate for mixed-bill shows — events where bands from different genres share the same stage.
I, for one, am inclined to agree. Almost no one listens to just one genre of music. Put different styles together and people will find something new they love. It’s better for fans, better for venues, and better for artists.
He also champions earlier show formats. “Start at 7, three bands, done by 9:30,” Dillon says. “Then keep the energy going with karaoke or DJs.”
Venues, however, often push for later schedules — especially bars that depend on peak drinking hours. Still, Dillon sees an opportunity for Utah artists and promoters to rethink event structures and create more inclusive experiences.
Personally, I think such events have the potential to be extremely enjoyable for patrons and fans – and much more profitable and sustainable for venues and bands.
Touring vs. local roots: Building a personal brand
When it comes to building a lasting career, Utah musicians often tread water, instead of building their brand. “You can only swim in the same place so many times before the water feels stale,” Dillon says. “I want to throw my guitar in the back of the car, drive to Colorado or Southern California, play shows, meet new people, and create new fans.”
I, on the other hand, have looked at taking a different approach: Staying local and cultivating a dedicated home audience. Playing a few shows a year – but making them singular events with new music, great friends, and ongoing relationship-building.
Dillon acknowledges this is a valid path, as well. Ultimately, the right approach depends on each artist’s goals and resources — but choosing a path can drive more benefits than simply treading water month in and month out.
Fostering community and building connections
For Dillon, music has always been about connection. After shows, he dreams of stronger community experiences — more afterparties, more hangouts, more shared moments. But late-night scheduling and fragmented cliques often get in the way.
He envisions a better future for Utah’s music culture: earlier shows, diverse lineups, collaborative events, and spaces where artists and fans can connect meaningfully. “I want more cross-pollination,” he says. “I love my friends, I want to support them, but I don’t want to see the same three bands every weekend.”
This philosophy mirrors Dillon’s work with Adopt a Native Elder and his broader worldview: community thrives when people share, collaborate, and support each other. For Utah’s independent music scene, that means breaking down barriers, taking risks, and prioritizing relationships over algorithms.
Reimagining Utah’s music scene
Jeff Dillon’s story isn’t just about one artist’s return to music — it’s about reimagining what Utah’s DIY scene can be. It’s about hope after burnout, passion over numbers, and the hard, messy work of building connections in a fragmented cultural landscape.
As Utah music continues to evolve, Dillon represents a growing movement of artists who are redefining success on their own terms: creating because they need to, sharing because they want to, and inviting others to build something greater together.
“If 10 people listen, that’s 10 people experiencing your understanding of life. That’s a beautiful thing.” — Jeff Dillon
FAQ – Jeff Dillon and Utah’s music scene
Q. Who is Jeff Dillon?
Jeff Dillon is a Utah-based singer-songwriter and longtime figure in the state’s DIY music scene. After a two-year hiatus, he’s returned to performing solo, exploring a new, more hopeful creative direction.
Q. What is Adopt a Native Elder?
Adopt a Native Elder is a nonprofit supporting Navajo elders (ages 75+) by providing food, medical supplies, and household essentials. The organization also helps artisans sell their rugs, jewelry, and crafts at fair prices.
Q. How does Jeff Dillon approach making music in a consumer-driven culture?
Dillon emphasizes passion over profit. He believes music’s value comes from personal expression and community connection — not metrics, likes, or monthly listener counts.
Q. Does paid advertising work for small Utah artists?
Not usually. Dillon says that low-budget social media ads rarely deliver measurable results. Building relationships, fostering community, and relying on organic growth tend to have a bigger impact.
Q. How does Dillon view solo artists versus bands?
He loves both formats but notes that solo artists have more flexibility to play smaller venues, while bands bring shared energy and a safety net on stage.
Q. What’s changing about releasing music today?
Dillon struggles with whether to release full albums, EPs, or staggered singles. Streaming has shifted listener habits, making single-song releases increasingly common, even if he personally prefers full albums.
Q. What are Dillon’s ideas for improving Utah’s music scene?
He advocates for:
- More mixed-genre shows to cross-pollinate audiences
- Earlier set times to make events more accessible
- After-show events to keep fans engaged and build community
Q. How can Utah artists build a personal brand?
There are two main approaches:
- Touring to reach new fans across states
- Investing locally to cultivate a loyal, engaged home audience
Q. What’s Jeff Dillon’s ultimate message for Utah artists?
Focus less on algorithms and more on connection. Art matters because it builds community, creates shared experiences, and allows people to express themselves authentically.