It was supposed to be a unique music festival set in a stunning location. But when the scheduled dates arrived, the performers were abruptly canceled. Attendees complained on social media that campgrounds boasting luxury “glamping” accommodations were instead muddy and unsafe. In the aftermath, media coverage centered around a specific claim: the first-time organizers were woefully unprepared.

The description easily applies to this spring’s Fyre Festival, the Bahamas event so notoriously disastrous, the FBI got involved. But it also sums up what one newspaper headline hyperbolically described as the “carnage” at Y Not Festival, a four-day event in the English countryside this past July, which ended a day early amid heavy rain and claims of false advertising. Both events fit a disconcerting pattern.

The boom in music festivals over the past decade has led to increasingly homogenous lineups at the biggest ones. The smart money now is on smaller, more focused festivals that can attract dedicated audiences with a distinctive curatorial perspective. But fest popularity also seems to be attracting relative newcomers who sense a money-making opportunity—but whose ability to follow through ranges from questionable to non-existent. Fyre is only the highest-profile example. Look closer, and the ashes of flopped festivals are all around.

Y Not Festival, scheduled for July 27 to July 30 in bucolic Derbyshire, UK, was by all accounts a soggy experience—not uncommon at festivals, in theory. While Thursday’s lineup was not affected, Friday headliners—big-in-Britain rock blokes the Vaccines—had their set canceled due to hazardous conditions. Saturday’s performances by Stereophonics and Jake Bugg were reshuffled, and Sunday’s festivities were called off altogether, citing the potential risks. On August 4, Y Not issued a statement promising a 50 percent refund of ticket costs within two weeks (and a return next year). Two weeks later, dozens of unhappy fans said they were still waiting on those half-refunds. Update (11:51 a.m): A Y Not spokesperson told Pitchfork: “Everyone who bought a ticket and attended the festival has received a 50% refund because of the final day cancellation. We’ve heard from a small number of people who haven’t received their refund yet and we’re getting this fixed.” A fest rep recently said, “We were extremely well prepared for the festival this year.”

While Y Not isn’t strictly new—starting as an overgrown house party more than a decade ago—its management is. Y Not was taken over last October by a London-based company called Global, which bought its first stake in the festival business back in 2015. Another Global-produced event, Trucks Festival earlier in July, was also beset with complaints of inadequate preparation for the predictable UK-music-festival mud. Global previously faced calls for an investigation, after 200 people were stranded after flooding at one of its festivals in September 2016.

In North America, the most prominent festival dirt-flinging this year was over Pemberton Festival in Canada. Set for July 13 at a scenic locale near Vancouver, with a lineup including Chance the Rapper, Muse, and a Tribe Called Quest, the fest was canceled suddenly in May. Its organizers declared bankruptcy, so no refunds were offered. The festival was brought back in 2014 after an earlier version also flopped, but bankruptcy filings showed it lost money for three years and suffered a major sales decline this year. Marc Geiger, the head of music at the booking agency William Morris Endeavor, threatened a lawsuit at the time, saying, “The only difference between Pemberton and Fyre is that Pemberton sold their event with trees instead of supermodels.”