The Menace of AI Music

Under Siege - How Technology Giants Are Shaping the Future of Creativity

In December 2024, a 10-week consultation period began, aiming to reconcile artists and businesses in the music industry for the sake of economic growth. This resembles a siege – powerful AI companies with enormous capital arrive saying, "surrender, and we'll ensure your prosperity and well-being. If not, we'll take what we want anyway, and you'll get nothing." Today, AI firms are Goliath, and artists are David. What, then, is the government's role? Does the state still have any say?

Goliath or Gol(ai)th?

It somewhat looks like what already happened with streaming – artists and copyright owners are perceived as obstacles. Today, those who have historically contributed to human development are portrayed as hindering progress. Yes, art is part of humanity's development, not just science and technology.

Secretary of State for Science, Innovation, and Technology, Peter Kyle, states: "This is about partnership: balancing strong protection for creators while removing barriers to AI innovation; and collaboration between government and industry sectors to achieve this." Earlier, he said: "That's why we're presenting a balanced package of proposals aimed at eliminating uncertainty about how copyright applies to artificial intelligence, so we can stimulate continued growth in the AI sector and creative industries, supporting our mission for the highest sustainable growth in the G7 as part of our Plan for Change." This sounds entirely like political rhetoric concealing an agenda to dispossess artists and other creative makers. I generally get the impression that humans – creators – are being pushed to the margins. Everything artificial intelligence is built upon was created by humans, all of which is supposedly protected by law, but is anyone scrutinizing AI companies? Can this still be stopped? Can we still say no?

Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport, Lisa Nandy, says: "We will work with them and the AI sector to develop a more transparent copyright system for the digital era and ensure that any system is functional and easy to use for businesses of all sizes."

Wait a minute... am I missing something? AI companies came along and took our beloved songs to train their models, which are designed to create other songs that we'll like, but without considering the artists we love. The government intervenes and discusses matters with these thieves (who have already done the deed and now only need government blessing to look good in their marketing campaigns about "democratizing" art and music). Creators are now treated as objects, or rather obstacles, on the path to "development." The measure of development these days seems to be financial success, and I get the feeling that the rest is just political-marketing smoke and mirrors.

Artist Rights Alliance AI protest

Collaborations like UMG with Soundlab (founded by Grammy-nominated producer, composer, software creator, and electronic artist BT) look promising on the surface. The strategic agreement will enable UMG artists and producers to use SoundLabs MicDrop, an AI vocal plugin, to create ultra-high-fidelity official vocal models. This means artists can use their own voice data for training, maintaining ownership and giving them full artistic consent and control. Yet even this sounds like the fulfillment of fears expressed by the Artist Rights Alliance on April 1, 2024: "platforms and developers are using AI to sabotage creativity and undermine the position of artists, songwriters, musicians, and rights holders." They continued: "We must protect ourselves against the predatory use of AI to steal the voices and likenesses of professional artists, violate creators' rights, and destroy the music ecosystem."

You won't even have to create anything!

It seems to me that behind the scenes, the cards have already been dealt, and once again, technology companies will strike a deal over the heads of artists. Already in summer 2023, YouTube began collaborating with artists and creators, establishing the YouTube Music AI Incubator, which looks genuinely threatening. It's like Baba Yaga's cottage from folklore – beautiful and promising from the outside, but inside lies decay and death. Looking at the potential of all this technology, which might elevate some artists to some vaguely defined "artistic heaven" where an artist no longer needs to create, they can digitally clone themselves, surrender their artistic soul to machines, and watch as technology companies feed that soul in the green pastures of mediocrity.

Mikey Shulman (SUNO): “Nobody likes making music.”

"These principles serve as a framework ensuring that our products and features enhance artistic expression while protecting artists' rights and the integrity of their work," said Lizzie Dickson, YouTube's Head of Label Relations (UK). Chris Horton, SVP of Strategic Technology at Universal Music Group, said: "UMG strives to keep artists at the center of our AI strategy, so that technology is used in service of artistry, not the other way around. We're excited to work with SoundLabs and BT, who has a deep and personal understanding of both the technical and ethical issues surrounding AI."

Hansel and Gretel

Remember that in Western culture, fairy tales like "Hansel and Gretel" warn us about those who would lure us with sweet promises:

AI for music - the principles beautifully speak about respect and support. Yet in my mind, I cannot reconcile these two contradictions: AI cannot enhance human creativity; it can only absorb it and endlessly reprocess it. Today, there is already a concept of "slop" aesthetics (waste, garbage). This is the result of AI's influence on art, where everything is worthless, mediocre, and temporary. Anyone who played with modeling clay as a child knows the disappointment behind this – mixing all colors, subjecting them to kneading, rolling, pressing, and crumpling leads to a grayish-brown sticky ball in the end.

The Baba Yaga Strategy of AI Companies:

1. I need your creativity.
2. Today, I support you by learning everything you know.
3. I respect your copyright and your permission for ‘limited use’.
4. I am transparent about what I decide to show you.
5. Your opinion is most important to me as long as you agree with me.
6. I will ‘revive’ music by copying your styles and voices, but there will be little to no room for you.

February 25, 2025:

Undoubtedly, the British government is very, but very eager to please AI companies. Perhaps they're hoping for the mercy of robots when the Terminator 1 scenario materializes (because surely it's not about money). Many artists and music industry activists, not just in the UK but worldwide, are saying that technology AI giants are behaving badly. The conversations we're having today are, in my opinion, already late, but it's not too late yet. It will be too late when corporations reach agreements with governments over the heads of artists and all manner of creators and creative companies. I have a quite clear feeling that even if the technological giants don't come to terms with governments, it won't change much. The mask of "transparency" will fall, and we'll see the ugly face of Baba Yaga. But by then, it will be too late.

Is This What We Want?

is a campaign by over 1,000 British artists, including Kate Bush, Annie Lennox, Damon Albarn, Billy Ocean, Ed O'Brien, Dan Smith, The Clash, Mystery Jets, Jamiroquai, Imogen Heap, Yusuf / Cat Stevens, Riz Ahmed, Tori Amos, Hans Zimmer, James MacMillan, Max Richter, John Rutter, The Kanneh-Masons, The King's Singers, The Sixteen, Roderick Williams, Sarah Connolly, Nicky Spence, Ian Bostridge, and many others.

They released an "album" containing recordings of empty studios and concert spaces, representing the impact on the livelihoods of artists and music professionals that can be expected if the government doesn't change course.

Ed Newton-Rex, the album's organizer, said: "The government's proposal would hand over the life's work of this country's musicians to AI companies, for free, allowing these companies to use musicians' work to outcompete them. This is a plan that would not only be disastrous for musicians but also entirely unnecessary: the UK can be a leader in artificial intelligence without throwing our world-leading creative industries under the bus. This album shows that regardless of how the government tries to justify it, musicians themselves are united in their deep condemnation of this ill-thought-out plan." Kate Bush, involved in the album, asked: "In the music of the future, will our voices remain unheard?" That's a good question.

If companies like Soundlab.ai create voice databases strikingly similar to the voices of creators we know and love, they will become slaves to machines until the end of the world. When Edison recorded his wife's voice during his experiments, long after her death, people told a ghostly joke that she still haunted him, even in death. I've already heard about legal steps taken by prominent artists clearly expressing their disapproval of posthumous use of their image in the form of holograms.

Knowing the ingenuity of corporate experts at reheating old ideas, and their level of sensitivity and good taste, in 10-20 years, we might be watching a holo-stripper named Elvis, who will sing his greatest hits while writhing on a pole.

Sir Arthur Sullivan wrote to Edison after one of the recording tests of his song: I can only say that I am astonished and somewhat terrified at the results of this evening's experiment—astonished at the wonderful power you have developed, and terrified at the thought that so much hideous and bad music may be put on permanent record. But all the same, I think it is the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced, and I congratulate you with all my heart on this wonderful discovery.

I think today he might write something like this: I am amazed by the extraordinary power of your technology, allowing the creation of music from nothing, yet concerned that anyone without talent can now flood the world with sounds devoid of soul and true artistry. Holograms of deceased artists and voice cloning astonish me – aren't we disrupting the natural order of things, forcing the dead to perform according to our whims? Despite these concerns, I must admit that your achievements are the most splendid manifestation of human genius, transcending the boundaries of what I considered possible.

See the campaign page: https://www.isthiswhatwewant.com/

What Can Artists Do to Protect Themselves?

Given the rapidly evolving landscape of AI in music, here are some practical steps artists can take to protect their work and rights:

1. Express Clear Objections: Explicitly state on your website, social media profiles, and in your music distribution agreements that you do not consent to your work being used to train AI models.
2. Use Technical Protection Measures: Implement robots.txt files and other technical solutions on your websites to prevent web crawling of your content by AI training systems.
3. Join Collective Rights Organizations: Consider joining performing rights organizations (PROs) like ASCAP, BMI, PRS, or similar entities in your country that can advocate collectively on behalf of artists.
4. Review All Contracts Carefully: Before signing with labels, distributors, or platforms, carefully review contract terms regarding AI use of your work. Negotiate specific clauses that protect your creative output from unauthorized AI use.
5. Stay Informed: Follow developments in AI and copyright law in your jurisdiction. Knowledge is power, and being aware of your rights helps you protect them.
6. Engage in Advocacy: Support or join industry initiatives like "Is This What We Want?" that advocate for fair treatment of artists in the AI era.
7. Consider Licensing Options: If appropriate for your career, explore creating your own licensing frameworks for AI use of your work that ensure proper compensation and control.
8. Build Direct Relationships with Fans: Reduce dependence on platforms by cultivating direct connections with your audience through newsletters, direct sales, and patronage models.
9. Explore Blockchain Verification: Some artists are using blockchain technology to create verifiable records of their original works and control how they're used.
10. Consult Legal Experts: When possible, seek advice from legal professionals specializing in intellectual property and music rights in the AI context.

Can Record Collectors and Music Enthusiasts Help Artists and Music in These Difficult Times?

Thanks to collectors, vinyl survived tough times. Today, our mission is even more serious.

As collectors, music fans, and sound enthusiasts, we must consider our role. We still have social media and other channels to share knowledge and educate others. Generation Z largely relies on algorithmic playlists on streaming platforms, which changes how they experience music. Research shows that 83.9% of this generation is aware of music generated by artificial intelligence, although their opinions are divided. Some find such tracks "strange and disturbing," while others see "interesting" and "future-oriented" potential in them. This means younger generations are open to new forms of music, but their commitment to supporting traditional artists may be declining.

In the past, being an artist meant years of work, developing skills, and building a unique style. Today, just a few sentences entered into AI are enough to get a "song." This flattens the creative process and reduces music to a mass product, devoid of soul and uniqueness.

Vinyl still make sense

It's tragic because if music becomes merely background for scrolling through TikTok, it loses its emotional and cultural value. We no longer return to tracks, analyze them, or collect them. That's precisely why vinyl and other physical media still make sense – they allow a deeper relationship with music and the artist.

The entire narrative about the "democratization" of music sounds beautiful, but in practice, it's a model where large companies profit from others' work. The same corporations that claim to give "everyone" the opportunity to create train their models on artists' works without their consent or compensation. They then distribute the generated music for free, taking away real creators' audiences and income.

Artists have fought for decent compensation for years, and now their art is treated like a toy for those who don't respect the creative process. AI doesn't "democratize" music – it centralizes profits in the hands of a few companies. The fact that someone can enter a prompt and get a ready-made track doesn't make them an artist. It's like buying a painting on AliExpress and claiming to be a painter.

We live in a simulation where everyone knows something is wrong, but no one sees an alternative. It was the same with streaming – everyone knows it pays pennies to artists, but they still use it because convenience trumps the value of art. Now AI goes a step further – it steals artists' work and sells it as a "creative tool."

This is the moment when music as a craft loses meaning, and people start treating it as a disposable product. Yet no one says loudly: "Hey, this is total rubbish, and we shouldn't participate in it." Because then what? The alternative would require rejecting convenience in favor of conscious choices – which is difficult in a world where everything should be fast and easy.

Is there still any real way out? If even artists give up, who is supposed to fight for the quality of music?

For us collectors, the authenticity and uniqueness of experiencing musical art are still crucial. Already today, over 90,000 songs land on Spotify daily, and when we add AI to that, this number will increase unimaginably. The choice is so overwhelming that we lose the ability to consciously receive. That's why people who can showcase new music – those who still remember how to navigate this paralyzing sea of possibilities – are still valued.

The increased use of algorithms has already led to the homogenization of music, and "AI artists" are just getting started. Deezer has developed an algorithm to detect AI-generated music – it currently constitutes about 30% of the tracks on the platform. This shows the difficult situation today's creators find themselves in.

Collecting vinyl and other physical media today is a manifestation of musical patriotism – a conscious belonging to a community of creators and recipients who value and actively support music created by humans, with their sensitivity and authenticity. It's a form of resistance against the dehumanization of music and its reduction to algorithmic background.

By buying vinyl, CD, or other media at a concert or in an independent store, we not only support artists – we give them a chance to continue creating the music we love. Soon this may no longer be obvious. If artists can't make a living from music, who will create it for us? Who will release records?

Music used to be a mirror of emotions – a space where artists talked about pain, love, rebellion, hope. It gave people tools to experience life, to understand themselves. And today? If everything is generated by an algorithm, is anyone still feeling anything seriously?

Because if music becomes just background for scrolling TikTok, if there's no soul in it, how can it move anyone? How can it help people experience something deeper when it has been reduced to a disposable product?

And here we come to the key question: are there still people who want to experience music as they once did? Is it just a niche now, a handful of collectors, music lovers, people who can still focus on something for longer than 30 seconds? Because if so, they should be the last line of defense against the total shallowing of art.

Is there still room for them in this world, or have they already been condemned to being a relic of the past?

The Menace of AI Music

As we reflect on John Philip Sousa's 1906 "The Menace of Mechanical Music" manifesto in the context of today's AI revolution, striking parallels emerge that illuminate our current crossroads. Sousa's predictions about phonographs and player pianos partially materialized—mechanical reproduction did transform how we create and consume music. Yet rather than destroying musical art, recording technology became an integral part of it, opening creative possibilities Sousa could never have imagined.

With artificial intelligence, we face a similar but potentially more profound disruption. While phonographs merely reproduced existing performances, AI actively generates new compositions, mimicking artists' styles and voices with increasing fidelity. The crucial difference is that recording devices always required original human performances, whereas AI systems can theoretically create without direct human input.

Will artists become obsolete in the age of AI? History suggests technology tends to transform artistic roles rather than eliminate them. Paradoxically, as AI technology advances, authentic human creativity may acquire greater value as something unique and irreplaceable. Sousa's concerns about the decline of amateur music-making in homes partially came true, but he couldn't foresee new forms of widespread musical participation enabled by technology.

Just as mechanical reproduction raised questions about copyright and fair compensation, AI poses the same issues in significantly more complex forms. The history of recorded music demonstrates that despite initial fears, artists ultimately adapted to new technology and leveraged it to their advantage. A similar evolution may await the relationship between musicians and AI.

We're likely not heading toward a world where artists become entirely redundant, but rather toward a transformation of the artist's role—a creative partnership between human and machine. The boundaries of this collaboration remain unclear, but one truth persists: while technology changes how we create and experience music, the fundamental human desire for authentic expression and emotional connection through art endures. The challenge ahead is not to resist technological change but to ensure it enhances rather than diminishes the human element that gives music its soul.