Friday, November 15, 2024

The Allure of Listening, Chapter 16 - Democracy, Elitism, Simulations and Large-Language-Model A.I. in a Post-Pandemic World

 And you think change is limited to living in an all-populist world? Friends, you haven't factored in the hologram and robot musicians yet!

Not that many Swifties were paying attention in the summer of 2023 when several leading economic analysts reckoned that Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour and film could have been the primary factor keeping the U.S. out of recession in 2023. Fans and parents certainly knew, when the “waiting room” model of ticket access led to ticket prices as high as $5,000. Similar high demand led to four-figure ticket prices for Beyonce and Bruce Springsteen, and even prices approaching $1000 for artists like rapper J. Cole. Several national and global tours in 2023 turned into “happenings” not that different from Swift’s – tours by The Cure, Peter Gabriel, boygenius, and the duo of Death Cab for Cutie and Postal Service, generated buzz that surprised everyone, particularly when a “legacy” rock act was involved. And in case the music industry picked up too much hubris, particularly during the 2023 Hollywood writers’ and actors’ strikes, it was humbling to remember that both the music and film industries were dwarfed by the gaming industry, which felt smaller impacts from lockdown than any of its cultural brethren.



    New album releases continued to drive a lot of streaming traffic, but the exhaustion many had expected to hit during pandemic seemed to finally become a reality in 2023-24, as releases from the biggest names in rap, indie, and pop seemed a bit lethargic. Marketing seemed to make up for ennui, though, because releases from virtually every second-tier pop newcomer – Bonzie, Clairo, Suki Waterhouse, Beabadoobee, and dozens of others – generated almost as much hype as new studio offerings from Halsey, Billie Eilish, The Cure, and Post Malone. In extreme cases, like the launch of Charli XCX’s brat, the album defined the season in more domains than music.



    The sheer number of new releases escalated significantly by the second half of 2024, but many releases seemed somewhat forced and uninteresting. The world needed Wet Leg and the British “mania” bands (black midi, Dry Cleaning, Black Country New Road, Sports Team, English Teacher, Yard Act, Squid) to kick the music world from its torpor. One of the few bright spots in Trump’s return to office at the end of the year is that pop music became its own secret society, bringing back hints of the late 1960s/early 1970s underground ambience, because many fans lived by the assumption that few Trump voters understood good music.

    The pop world could thank a huge wave of women newcomers in 2023-24 who spoke primarily to teens, but won over many adults, including Chappell Roan, Lizzy McAlpine, Tartie, Renee Rapp, Sabrina Carpenter, Samia, and many others.  The gender one-sidedness was no accident. Men under 40 were playing less and less of a role in music, literature, visual arts, and performing arts in the 2020s. Studies from The Economist and other sources consistently showed that young adults worldwide were becoming more bifurcated from 2010 to 2025 – women grew more intelligent, empathetic, and creative, while young men grew more conservative and insular. It was no accident that the knuckleheaded “manoverse” represented one of Trump’s major electoral bases in late 2024.



Another 2024 music trend yet to be deciphered is the shift to country experiments by many pop artists during the course of the year – Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter spurred a flurry of y’all efforts from Lana Del Rey, Post Malone, Jelly Roll, Orville Peck, Hurray for the Riff Raff, and the unlikely duo of Julien Baker and Torres. At the end of 2024, Chappell Roan even extended this to fierce country parody, courtesy of the new “The Giver (She Gets the Job Done)” which debuted on SNL. A bigger buzz also was generated by new releases from legacy acts like Peter Gabriel, Rolling Stones, and Blink-182, if only because the new works from geezers seemed to show more energy than those from some of the newer artists.



    In 2023, a slight dip in music offered for streaming services was noted, and savvy analysts realized it could be accounted for, at least in part, by musicians writing solely for the TikTok platform. TikTok initially had strict parameters for minute-long lengths of tunes, a necessary riff in the first 20 seconds, riffs ranked according to viral spread, etc. In 2024, the constraints were lifted slightly and songwriters were offered better compensation. Nevertheless, the move to one platform seen as superficial by many sparked a torrent of criticism. One session musician said “I used to be startled by a musician whose portfolio consisted entirely of streaming links. Now I’ve run into musicians whose entire portfolio consists of TikTok songs, and I’m left sort of speechless.”

    Still, the focus on “TikTok first” led to a discernible drop in music aimed at large streaming platforms. Some composers just found reels-based platforms like TikTok more fun than the vast giga-forest of Spotify, where even great works could get lost in endless fields of chaff.  Within the TikTok-verse, there was a lot of rapid viral sharing of riffs that took advantage of mutual placement in films and video games, but that could lead to a restriction in originality as much as a new creative dimension. Ideal algorithms call for optimizing riffs in the first two seconds of a song, repeating known memes in a new work, and similarly playing the meme field for what is fast and attractive. This also means that the viral speed of up-then-down is many times faster than a typical streaming community. The first couple years of the 2020s gave us only a taste of TikTok’s potential level of influence – provided it is not banned in U.S. markets.



     There’s something important to remember when discerning TikTok’s supposed central role in 2020s pop music: vast dimensions of music take place under the radar of even the most avid music lover. Music industry analyst Bob Lefsetz fell in love with the British Victorian-baroque women’s band The Last Dinner Party in the summer of 2024, and lamented that if it was 1985, MTV would make sure everyone knew their name. The point is, everyone the band cares about does know their name. Many of their U.S. tour cities sold out within minutes of the ticket sales first being announced. Such fans in high school, college, and their mid-20s not only know the name of The Last Dinner Party, but also the names of many of the British mania bands mentioned above. The fans use a mix of TikTok, Spotify, YouTube, and social media sites to learn of new artists, and no one cares about the lack of a central unifier like MTV, AM radio, AOR radio, etc. Lefsetz is just upset that more boomers remain in the dark, just as many music fans in their 40s and 50s remain in the dark, but that’s their problem for not paying stricter attention.



    Music critic Marc Hogan points to another factor not often recognized when legacy artists or their estates sell music catalogs – a roster that included Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Stevie Nicks, Katy Perry, and Shakira. Hogan points out that the back catalogs are quietly being bought up by private equity firms, who spent $12 billion on music catalogs in 2021 alone.  Some private equity firms work with companies like Primary Wave to “dress up” old hits for forced re-entry into the Top Ten, but Hogan reminds us that merely by listening to old favorites like “Firework” or “Born to Run,” we are lining the pockets of Carlyle or Blackstone – in essence, replacing the former dominance of big record labels with the new dominance of hedge funds and private equity. Blackstone made the biggest such move late in the summer of 2024, when the fund acquired Hipgnosis, the biggest of the songbook consolidators, for $1.6 billion.

    There is also a more active version of back-catalog buyouts, with an intent to cash in on tribute markets by offering something even closer to the O.G. artist. This is exemplified by the ABBA founders’ acquisition of the KISS back catalog and image rights in the spring of 2024. To be more precise, the catalog and image rights were purchased for $300 million by ABBA founder Bjorn Ulvaeus’s company Pophouse, the same company responsible for the ABBA Voyage hologram tour. The interesting issue isn’t how quickly Pophouse can take KISS holograms on tour. More to the point is whether the investor owners of music catalogs create dozens of virtual-reality performers showing us immortal images of Katy Perry and Stevie Nicks.



    Just as many of us never dreamed how popular the tribute-band market could be over time, one must be careful about dismissing the prospect of going to concerts of holographic clones dating from the 1960s through the 2020s. For a certain kind of music consumer, the hologram may be better than the living musician.

    Something else was driving new music, though only as a future troublemaker. The first public platforms of large-language-model A.I., like ChatGPT, arrived in early 2023 and immediately led to fears that human creativity would be replaced by apparently-sentient A.I. The concern arose first in the image-generation A.I. platforms. Visual art made by A.I. certainly was more impressive than anticipated, but was unlikely to be mistaken for human art. Before the impact could truly be felt in music, artists in all fields raised two fundamental challenges that could slow A.I. development as much as the self-imposed guardrails set up by A.I. startups in the summer of 2023: First, the training of the core neural networks at the heart of LLM A.I. required millions upon millions of data sets, which A.I. companies acquired by “scraping” public databases as well as databases that may not have been so public. Comedian Sarah Silverman was the first in a long line of artists to sue the LLM companies, saying that using training sets with some of her material constituted copyright violation. Second, music critics suggested that music created by machine sentience would be perceived as automatically inferior to that based on human creativity.



    The first of the challenges was sure to be fought out in multiple courtroom domains through the 2020s and beyond. The latter was more troublesome, as the typical music fan might not be depended upon to prefer the real human. Remember how the “craptastic” argument played out in MP3 lossy compression, after all. Since so many humans were not necessarily adventurous in seeking out new sounds, and preferred their music served up as wallpaper, if an A.I. platform (or a hologram of a familiar artist) combined just the right mix from multiple decades of riffs and emotional triggers, it’s possible many fans would prefer the machine product.

    There might be many steps in the A.I. world on the road to reaching true machine-generated music. ChatGPT might perform a more advanced version of the Pandora/Spotify playlist development, to tailor each playlist specifically to one person. While that sounds harmless on its own, the A.I. platform might create a hermetically-sealed “silo” far more effective than the hundreds of niche stations offered by Sirius XM. In effect, each playlist is curated for precisely one listener, and the notion of sharing music or using music in a collective environment fades away.

    Many musicians are beginning to realize that a ChatGPT music creator might not be a competitor, but a collaborator. Electronic composer Reiner Kramer, at a 2024 electronic music conference, said the training of a neural network might some day be considered “a performative act.”



    At this point in 2024, the A.I. platform could introduce its own machine-generated music as the ultimate personalization step in audio experience – and all too many fans would think it was just great. Remember, Spotify already was offering playlists of music generated entirely by machines in the mid-2010s. Placing ChatGPT into the music-to-consumer pipeline does not represent a giant step at all. And here is where we return to the issue of the “populist” playlist created by stream-based voting, and what it has to say about mass democracy vs. elitism – there are similar problems in politics, culture, and in music itself.

    The positive aspect of new populism is the ability of bands to remain as divorced as possible from the corporate music environment, while trying to game the system so that more people can appreciate their music. The trick is in trying to preserve a way to make money, at least enough to survive as a musician. A classic case is the personal/band project of Canadian queer activist Patrick Flegel, who released an acclaimed debut as Cindy Lee in 2020, then a two-hour album, Diamond Jubilee, which arrived to rave reviews in April 2024. Cindy Lee only streams on YouTube and GeoCities. There were no LPs or CDs to support the album until a promised double-LP at the end of 2024. The one download link for FLAC files makes it challenging to donate money. And the Cindy Lee tour of North America was cancelled after a single date, leaving Flegel with no way to make operating funds for an album that many placed among the year’s best. And since Flegel grants almost no interviews, the overall media presence brings to mind Nick Drake.



    Populism can be expensive for fans, as well. When many musicians open Patreon accounts or launch Kickstarter projects, fans can go from one to the next with wallets open. The decentralized concept of house concerts, which took a giant leap up both before and even during the pandemic, has become so popular in some cities, there might be three to five house concerts per week in summer months, at least in some metro areas (not counting the free concerts many municipalities sponsor).

   The common thread in new populist political movements around the world is the disdain for experts and elitism, an understandable prejudice given the way elitist circles have hurt common interests under globalized capitalism. Yet, as Laurie Anderson pointed out in her “Only An Expert” song, experts are experts for a reason. They have gained a working knowledge of domains others grasp in only an opaque way. The most nihilist of the populists within the U.S. right now would like to go back to the pre-1880 days prior to the Civil Service, when all governing structures were handled face to face. Anyone who thinks about this for half a minute will realize that no air traffic control could take place, nor large energy grids, nor global shipping networks. Populists fail to understand that virtually every labor domain requires an immense support cast, including many managers who would be deemed elitist. Merely mailing a letter, completing a cellular call, or buying a loaf of bread, requires a support staff of thousands.



    The new “democratic” Top 40, in which fans gain access to an artist’s entire tracklist for an album, then vote by number of streams as to which rises to the top, sounds like the ultimate experiment in democracy. Yet every December, the top streams are the same Mariah Carey “All I Want for Christmas” and Wham! “Last Christmas” as topped the charts the year before. Every month, the same artists with new tracks dominate the charts, with less chance than ever that a newcomer could break the trend. This is because only a small minority of music lovers are truly adventurous, exploring the Spotify gigaverse for something new and exciting. Most music lovers prefer the familiar. If a certain amount of elitists and experts aren’t out there to give form to an evolving musical universe, the content of that universe will devolve to a lowest common denominator. This is how populism in any domain works.

    I’m still hunting down the new and unusual every day, though my brain cells and aural subsystems are getting old and tired. I don’t have a natural prejudice that prevents me from saying a machine intelligence could ever be sentient, but I will listen to A.I. works with both interest and skepticism. It may be true that we are living on the precipice of dangerous times from a climate and social-justice perspective, but I don’t anticipate the same thing to be true, at least necessarily, for music. As long as there are clubs where live music is performed, or even informal social gatherings where people can play music for each other, we will not fall victim to either A.I., or even the false democracy of hyper-streamed mass-audience music. But we have to be explorers and life-long students, as much as we are with general education topics, with books, with films.  Every art and political artifice surrounding us deserves our full attention. Music does not deserve to be wallpaper, and neither does anything else. The ultimate legacy I would like to leave from decades immersed in recorded music is Arthur Miller's description of Willy Loman from Death of a Salesman, “Attention must be paid.” To everything, and constantly.

 



                  Hope you all had fun! Watch for the 2024 list of best music on Dec. 31.

Copyright 2024 Loring Wirbel

 

Friday, November 1, 2024

The Allure of Listening, Chapter 15 - Lockdown Goads Music to Its Virtual Side

 Let's not be like the Roaring 1920s jazz babies who practiced collective amnesia about the 1918 flu epidemic at the end of World War I. The 2020 Covid pandemic had real-word effects on the deliverability of physical music, the ability to host live concerts, and the loyalty of fans to Zoom, ConcertWindow, Kickstarter and Patreon environments - and some effects are still with us today!

Covid-19 hit touring musicians with a speed that startled everyone. Tours were moving into high gear again in February 2020, just as initial reports of lockdowns in Wuhan were expanding into stories of cruise ships being quarantined. There was a general feeling that the spread of the virus might get serious by late spring. Suddenly, the NBA and NCAA basketball seasons were being cancelled, a local production of “Hair” in Colorado Springs halted all performances, and by the middle of March, many urban areas in the U.S. were on lockdown. Wire’s tour of the U.S. and Torres’ tour of Europe were cancelled so quickly, the bands were stuck in mid-tour as international flights were halted, leaving few options for bands to get home.



   Because the Zoom video-conferencing app had been gaining popularity prior to lockdown, it did not take musicians long to realize that they could sponsor home-based informal concerts that fans often pay for. But during the early weeks, revenue streams were not a high priority. In one of the first “festival” uses of Zoom, dozens of musicians gathered remotely to honor John Prine, who died of Covid complications early in the pandemic. The two-day Zoomfest was one of the first such events to brighten the homebound. Soon, musicians from Ben Gibbard to Jonatha Brooke were planning regular series of concerts Zoomed from home. (While NPR has collected its “Tiny Desk Concert At Home” series for an interested audience, it seems we are only in the first stage of the pandemic-era Zoom concerts being compiled together, both by artists and in a multi-artist “festival” format.)







    Supplies of physical products were reliant during early lockdown days on Amazon and independent mail-order outlets. Among the artists whose releases were planned near Zero Day were Waxahatchee, Pearl Jam, The Weeknd, The 1975, and The Strokes. In some states, some music releases might be offered at large general-purpose stores like Target. But in those states with the most severe restrictions, a customer could only go into Target or Walmart to get groceries, and other parts of the store were literally walled off in access. Here in Colorado, we had a mixed bag. One could buy music releases in Denver and Colorado Springs big-box stores, but not in Summit County, where the Target no pasaran bars looked like police tape. Here, the lockdown was brief enough so that by the time mid-May releases from Perfume Genius and Nap Eyes hit the streets, record stores already were open again. But in New York and other dense urban areas, strict lockdowns lasted well into late summer.



    Because it is impossible to gauge the reality of a counter-factual, we can only guess which trends were initiated and which were aggravated by the pandemic. In the realm of the decline of physical products, it seems safe to say that the slowdown preceded the lockdown by several quarters. Rappers Kanye West and Chance the Rapper already announced late in the decade that they would stop releasing physical products. The wholesale shipping and distribution tightening of late 2019 and the Apollo Masters lacquer plant fire of February 2020 both preceded the March lockdown. But the utter collapse of supply chains in multiple manufacturing realms that hit in mid-2020 made a bad situation for LP and CD delivery far worse.

    The edgiest element of pandemic performance was the occasional live protest song emerging from the BLM actions in the summer of 2020. A few such songs became local anthems, though few were recorded until John Craigie’s Greatest Hits….Just Kidding, Live, No Hits included ‘Summer of 2020’ when it was released in late 2024.

    In remote live performances, musicians had made a few faltering steps in the latter half of the 2010s to offer customers in remote areas “live online” concerts that many would pay for, but the enforced work-at-home regimes and the lack of touring possibilities drove Zoom and its smaller competitors like ConcertWindow into the stratosphere in 2020-21. In the late summer of 2020, innovators were trying new options for truly live concerts, such as live house concerts and pod-based remote live concerts in stadiums, but successive waves of Delta and Omicron variants of Covid killed the bulk of live performances well into 2022. Musicians relied more on direct-support sites like Patreon – bands sought investment for specific albums via Kickstarter as early as 2010, but the pandemic necessitated the deeper fan involvement made possible through Patreon.

    When an independent regional musician focused solely on the home market, the limits of logistical realities helped drive a house-concert business that proved a booming new venue option long after Covid restrictions ended. This was particularly true for summer months stretching into the fall of 2020. Since attendees at outdoor house concerts could practice social distancing, local heroes here in Colorado, like Jeremy Facknitz and Edie Carey, could conduct live performances in the worst months of lockdown. What was less successful was the attempt to preserve a festival environment through the use of “pod clusters” of people within large outdoor venues like sports stadiums – it was too difficult! And the minor successes reached in the fall of 2020 made some bands too optimistic about rebooting national tours. Several hit the road in the winter and spring of 2020-21 only to find themselves stymied by resurgent Delta and Omicron waves of Covid.



    What surprised many, though it may have reflected the fact that bands had little else to do, was the pace of new music in 2020-22, which kept rolling along through lockdown, inflation, and the dissolution of supply chains. Even newcomers were given proper due without benefit of support tours – Olivia Rodrigo, Wet Leg, The Linda Lindas, Pom Pom Squad, Illuminati Hotties, and dozens of other groups and soloists gained a following based solely on studio recordings. Behind all the releases was the unspoken desire, however, that musicians and fans wanted to get back to live music as quickly as possible.  Fans were desperate for novelty and levity, as Wet Leg’s instant hit “Chaise Longue” proved.



    What the pandemic no doubt slowed was the rise of a truly global music business. The U.S. and EU (including the post-Brexit UK) formed its own cloister. China trade wars during the Trump administration, and China’s severe nationwide lockdown later in the pandemic, prevented China from jumping onto the K-Pop and J-Pop bandwagons. (This was reinforced by Xi’s insistence that China’s pop bands avoid Western cultural contamination.) The wall in Asia was replicated in central Europe after Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022 – not just because cultural contacts between Russia and the West fell to insignificance, but because Putin, to gain more cultural support for the war, hewed more closely to the Russian Orthodox Church view that Russia must go it alone in the arts, because all Western arts were suspect and corrupt.

    Musicians could scarcely depend on a music industry that would come roaring back in all aspects, though. Bandcamp, the former “gold standard” for online musician support, was acquired by Epic Games in early 2022. In September 2023, Epic laid off 16 percent of the Bandcamp staff before selling Bandcamp to Songtradr. For the time being, fans could purchase LPs and CDs, as well as download music, through the Bandcamp site, but no one felt too optimistic about how long this would last.

    Still, this was all trepidation about possible worries to come. As the pandemic began to lift in the third quarter of 2022, all the fans could think about was getting back to the arenas and clubs. And the big money to be made occasionally trickled down to musicians, at least for the first few post-pandemic quarters.

 


Coming in TWO WEEKS (Nov. 15) - The Allure of Listening, Chapter 16 - Democracy, Elitism,            Simlations, and Large-Language-Model A.I, in a Post-Pandemic World - We'll wrap this story up for now with a look at performing rock holograms, ChatBots who make music, and humans who compose strictly for TikTok!
                                                     Copyright 2024 Loring Wirbel