Casey G

Spotify Wrapped has arrived once again, but what has historically been an exciting review of the year’s musical ingestion has been a conflicting experience this time around. I am currently in the midst of removing myself as a user from Spotify – a grueling process that has taken longer than anticipated – and have resorted to manually transcribing the entirety of my library. I’ve relied on the convenience of Spotify for the six or so years I’ve been on the platform; most of my favorite music is easily accessible in one place, which has subsequently become the home for my collection of playlists. I have accumulated over 150 playlists in the last few years, and though I reject the superficiality of such an attachment, I do hesitate at the thought of losing all of my little projects. Cultivated song lists to fit certain moods and activities, to summarize what I was listening to that month or while experiencing this thing, to set the mood for a holiday or concert, they are simultaneously a point of musical accessibility and personal history for me. 

Truthfully, I think that is the amount of mourning this transition is worthy of. Yes, I will miss the platform, the layout, and my customizations, but I will establish my collection elsewhere. I recently purchased an inexpensive MP3 player and have already downloaded some music onto the device. The technology is relatively simple, by contemporary-AI world standards anyway. The face is about 40% consumed by screen, which pleasantly surprised me by showing album photos during song-play. It looks like a cheaper, smaller version of the iPod Nano 4. There is something so archaic about this device that would have thrilled me with futuristic inspiration as a child, and that is one of my favorite elements of it. Using the MP3 player has already made me feel more connected to my music and artists without the incessant voice of Spotify algorithm trying to ‘Smart Shuffle’ or insert other ‘curated’ preferences into my mix. I also enjoy the detachment of separating my communication device from my music-playing device, as it has been helpful in cutting down on screen and social media time. Listening to music no longer requires that I am in the claws of my cell phone.

There are several motivating factors that have guided my decision to stop giving this platform my money, one of which I admittedly have known about and took far too long to act upon. Spotify pays artists poorly, and does not pay some artists at all. Most reports estimate a low-end payment of $0.003 per stream, and starting in 2024 they stopped paying artists who reaped <1,000 streams in a twelve month period. I have contributed to the pacification of this issue, justifying it with my continued subscription month after month and each year that follows. This information is no revelation and seems to be commonly-held knowledge, as I have seen it discussed frequently online and by artists who put their content on Spotify. Yet we continue to accept and support this debasing, profiteering business model. I have been guilty of this myself, and I have finally chosen to put an end to my participation in this unethical system. I encourage others to do the same when possible.

The final nail in the coffin of my relationship with this platform was a financial move made recently by their current CEO and co-founder, Daniel Ek (who looks like the supervillain he is). Daniel recently invested 600 million euros (nearly 700 million USD) in a military tech company that is building AI-powered combat drones (cue the eerie dystopian music). Daniel’s involvement with Helsing – which is far more than a mere investment of hundreds of millions, as he is listed as a chairman for this startup – should be a wake up call, slap in the face, self-awareness rousing type of development. It was for me, at least. The way I see it – not only can Daniel, the corporate man with no musical talent, not be bothered to appropriately compensate the artists that are the very reason we flock to his platform, but he disrespects us, the consumers, as well. How dare you take $12.78 of my money every month if you can throw away (maliciously and methodically invest) $600 million like it’s nothing, as a gift for robot development. How about a year of free subscriptions or an increase in per-stream revenue to artists, you know, things that might actually support the longevity of your company, rather than funding the new technological frontier of war. Only a sociopath enabled by massively criminal wealth would choose to embolden the heartiness of the surveillance state and its murdering capacity. I won’t line his pockets any longer, I genuinely cannot justify doing so knowing that I inadvertently paid into the creation of AI weapons.

Again, I’m not here to behave as though I’m riding the tallest, most moral horse; I’ve paid into this platform for years and am just now leaving. Acknowledging that there is no ethical consumption within a capitalist system, we might recognize that some methods of consumption are even less ethical than others. There are other, less morally-fraudulent streaming services and systems that help facilitate the transfer of your library (do your own research, I can’t vouch for platforms I haven’t used). There is also the option to return to retired tech, the outdated iPods and MP3 players of our youth that can be found on Ebay and other third-party commerce sites. You’ll still be able to listen on the go, and you’ll save money in the long run. You would buy and own your device, as well as the music you put onto it, instead of perpetually renting access from some glorified landlord named Daniel.