FEATURE:
Inside the Mood Machine
PHOTO CREDIT: Liza Summer/Pexels
The Personal Benefits and Drawbacks of Spotify
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THERE was a recent…
PHOTO CREDIT: Ivan Samkov/Pexels
feature from The Guardian, where two of its writers, Laura Snapes and Alexis Petridis, discussed their experiences with Spotify. Whether they could live without it and what it was like listening to curated playlists. It ties into a book, Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist. Published in March, it is a very timely book. At a moment when there is uncertainty whether most artists can survive putting their music onto Spotify, there is a real call for change. Either the business model of Spotify needs to ensure artists are paid fairly - or there needs to be an alternative:
“An unsparing investigation into Spotify's origins and influence on music, weaving unprecedented reporting with incisive cultural criticism, illuminating how streaming is reshaping music for listeners and artists alike.
Drawing on over one hundred interviews with industry insiders, former Spotify employees, and musicians, Mood Machine takes us to the inner workings of today's highly consolidated record business, showing what has changed as music has become increasingly playlisted, personalized, and autoplayed.
Building on her years of wide-ranging reporting on streaming, music journalist Liz Pelly details the consequences of the Spotify model by examining both sides of what the company calls its two-sided marketplace: the listeners who pay with their dollars and data, and the musicians who provide the material powering it all. The music business is notoriously opaque, but here Pelly lifts the veil on major stories like streaming services filling popular playlists with low-cost stock music and the rise of new payola-like practices.
For all of the inequities exacerbated by streaming, Pelly also finds hope in chronicling the artist-led fight for better models, pointing toward what must be done collectively to revalue music and create sustainable systems. A timely exploration of a company that has become synonymous with music, Mood Machine will change the way you think about and listen to music”.
It made me think about my experiences with Spotify and what it means to me. I have been using it for years and compiled over 1,300 playlists on it. I tend to get a lot of music from it and often listen to specially ‘curated’ playlists. Their Daily Mix selections and genre-specific playlists. There are drawbacks to them. Before getting to my thoughts, Liz Pelly’s book was investigated by The Guardian:
“In November and December last year, Spotify’s chief executive, Daniel Ek, sold 420,000 shares in the music streaming company, earning himself $199.7m (£160m). One wild rumour that circulated on social media suggested Ek’s eagerness to divest himself of stock in the company he founded was linked to the imminent publication of Liz Pelly’s book Mood Machine, as if Ek feared the revelations contained within it would adversely affect the share price. That was obviously a fanciful notion. Ek started cashing out Spotify shares in July 2023, and has continued doing so into 2025. At the time of his last transaction, a month after Pelly’s book was published in the US, Spotify’s share price was at an all-time high.
And yet, you can see how people who had a preview of Mood Machine’s contents might get that idea into their head. It may be the most depressing and enraging book about music published this year, a thoroughly convincing argument that Spotify’s success has had a disastrous effect on pop music. Pelly also alleges a catalogue of alarming corporate behaviour, indicative of a company that, one former employee suggests, has “completely lost its moral centre”.
The question is whether it ever had one to start with. The favoured origin story around Spotify’s founding involves Ek, a Swedish tech millionaire and “music nerd”, electing to save the industry from the scourge of online piracy by providing an alternative: an all-you-can-eat buffet of music on demand for a small monthly fee. Pelly suggests this is basically tripe. Ek’s speciality was in selling online advertising: his big idea was that some kind of streaming service would be a good way to do it. In its initial iteration, Spotify wasn’t even specifically intended as a music provider: the concept was to stream movies, until Ek and his co-founders realised that the size of the digital files involved was prohibitive. The picture that emerges is not of a munificent fan but a very different and familiar archetype: the guy who’s good with computers and neither understands, nor places any value on art.
The more beige your sound, the more likely it was to find a place on a Spotify playlist and earn some cash.
Certainly, Spotify seems to have gone out of its way to denude musicians of earnings. Major labels were paid enormous advances to license their catalogues to the service, with no obligation to share any of the money with the people who had actually made the music. Spotify’s system of royalty payments is both byzantine and patently unfair. Artists aren’t paid simply by the number of streams their songs achieve, but by the percentage of total streams they account for in each country: not for your work, but how well your work is doing compared with that of a handful of megastars. One of Pelly’s interviewees calls it “forced consolidation”: not everyone who makes music wants to compete with Ed Sheeran, but this is a world in which you’re automatically obliged to do so. If you’re willing to forgo a further percentage of your earnings, then there’s Spotify Discovery, which adjusts the app’s much-vaunted algorithm to promote artists who accept a reduced royalty rate.
Meanwhile, in the early 2010s, the company shifted its focus from “music enthusiasts” to what it calls “lean-back consumers”, effectively the kind of people who would once have turned the radio on in the morning and left it burbling in the background all day. The purpose of the playlists it designed to target them – “chill vibes”, “mellow morning”, “mood-booster” – was, and is, to provide unobtrusive background noise or, as Pelly suggests, a latter-day equivalent to muzak: nothing striking, unusual, out-of-the-ordinary, or indeed any of the things one might reasonably want music to be. The message that quickly filtered through to artists was that the more beige your sound, the more likely it was to find a place on a Spotify playlist and earn some cash. Hence the rise of a homogeneous genre dubbed “Spotifycore”, which you’ve doubtless heard even if the term seems unfamiliar. It’s a bit ambient, a bit electronic, a bit folky, a bit indie, a nonspecific wish-wash possessed only of a vague wistfulness, the sonic equivalent of a CBD gummy: music “for any place, for anyone”, as one producer put it, that ends up being “music for no place, for no one”.
PHOTO CREDIT: cottonbro studio/Pexels
It is interesting how Spotify affects how we experience music. Whether it is beneficial and expands horizons or it is very much recycling what we listen to without leading us in new ways. I have a very love-hate relationship with Spotify. I want to move to another article from The Guardian and the experiences of two of its writers:
“Laura Snapes, deputy music editor I was set the task of not listening to Spotify for a week, but Alexis, your task was much worse: only listening to Spotify-created playlists, and the songs it suggested to you based on your listening history. How did that go?
Alexis Petridis, chief rock and pop critic One day in the car I just listened to nothing instead of facing it again. When it plays me songs I like, it’s not what I want to hear at that moment. That’s not to say the music it was recommending wasn’t good. One morning it played Schizophrenia by Sonic Youth. I love that song but I didn’t want to hear it then. It played me Billie Holiday’s Riffin’ the Scotch followed by My Bloody Valentine, which clearly demonstrates the great breadth of my music taste – but just because I like it all doesn’t mean I want to hear it all together. I didn’t like that it was untouched by human hands. I always think that the amazing thing about a record collection is that it doesn’t make sense to anybody other than you. And yet when it’s presented like that, I find it really jarring and difficult – it’s all over the place.
LS The algorithm is straining to find the data points that connect all those things, to close the net and make it coherent when it’s not.
AP The first one I tried had an AI DJ that kept saying “Ga-lax-ie 500”, which sounds like a laxative. I wonder how much of this is to do with my age and these things not having always been in my life, but I find it inherently creepy, both the AI voice and the narrow recommendations based on your own taste. I read enough science fiction in my teens to know that this is very much the thin edge of the wedge – one minute it’s all matey “would you like to listen to Galaxie 500?”, the next humanity’s enslaved, living underground mining uranium for a robot. There are generated playlists that are meant to be generically adjacent to the time of day you listen to it: “Wednesday Shoegaze.” Why? Then you have “70s rock hippie afternoon”, featuring a lot of music that isn’t from the 1970s. There’s I Am Waiting by the Rolling Stones, which is from 1965. Expecting to Fly by Buffalo Springfield is from 1967. Eight Miles High by the Byrds is from 1966. How do you generally use Spotify?
IN THIS PHOTO: Laura Snapes and Alexis Petridis try giving up/living with Spotify/PHOTO CREDIT: Jill Mead/The Guardian
LS I have mp3s of anything I care about. I pay for Spotify but I try to spend as much or more on Bandcamp or whatever every month, like carbon-offsetting. To some degree, you and I need to have Spotify, like a film critic needs Netflix. But also, artists don’t earn anything from me playing their mp3s; if I stream music I already own on Spotify, they’re at least getting fractions of a penny and the listener data they need to operate in that ecosystem. And I don’t have to listen to ads. How about you?
AP Ordinarily my listening isn’t centred on Spotify. I use YouTube more for work. I listen to a lot of physical records. Did you listen to a lot of different stuff as a result of not using Spotify for a week?
LS Sort of. I subscribe to a lot of music newsletters and inevitably open 20 Bandcamp links a week and shut 15 without listening to them, because there’s only so much time. But this week I went through most of them and really loved an album by a Swedish composer called Hugo Randulv. I generally only use Spotify as a discovery tool to listen to albums I’ve never heard before that I’ve seen recommended elsewhere or to play old favourites out and about. The only time I cheated was when I ran out of fun music mid-run and put Doechii’s last mixtape on, but I bought it when I got home. I never use their playlists. I stopped checking my Discover Weekly because it often recommends things that would be logical for me to like, but I’ve already decided that I don’t. But that doesn’t compute with their algorithmic concept that one of these things is just like the other.
AP That’s the thing – however good the algorithm is, there’s something about human taste that it can’t quite replicate. Let’s look at my “made for you”. I never usually browse this. Here’s my “reggae mix” … featuring folk legends Shirley and Dolly Collins.
LS Wow. With playlists like “70s hippie afternoon”, it’s like their made-up Spotify Wrapped “genres”, where they’re named a) to mimic the language of memes, and b) as a reduction of music down to “vibes”, stripping away historical context. This might be getting a bit Adbusters, but I think the temporal playlists are also about syncing with consumer habits. Your “get ready with me” playlist, a “main character energy” walk to Starbucks. And the “coffee shop” vibe is so prevailing, it’s ended up dictating the types of music that get signed: you get more pop-ready, front-facing songwriters such as Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker on indie labels – they’re obviously great but they’re also products that work well in that ecosystem”.
I relying on Spotify a lot when it comes to my journalism. Whether it is embedding an entire album or compiling playlists, I use it all of the time. It is invaluable for easy access to a wide range of music. I do really like how you can go in and be treated to so much music for very little money. I do feel guilty about the low rates artists are paid! How much most will earn from streaming. However, when we think about the way people consume music now, is Spotify and other streaming platforms beneficial at all? That thing about artists sounding the same or trying to fit into a particular vibe so they are included on Spotify playlists. Homogenisation to an extent. For me, one of the biggest issues is the suggested mixes and playlists. Very samey. I find it harder and harder to push beyond that. Maybe lazily letting Spotify dictate my listening. I do appreciate some of the songs suggested but, when it comes to music, it is better if I am connected with artists and albums that I do not listen to a lot. You get caught in this cycle of listening to the same thing! Genre-specific playlists sometimes random and really pulling together songs I am familiar with. The best moments happen when I stray away from suggested playlists and mixes and connect with something unexpected. In terms of discovering new artists, it is harder and harder to make those rare finds. Bigger artists get promoted and there are very few opportunities to find artists that are new. Spotify always keen to feed back to me things I have heard. This thought that this is what I want. I want to go beyond the comfort zone and be a bit bolder! Radio discovery relies on you listening to the right station at the right station. Streaming services like Spotify aren’t really set up that way. At least it doesn’t seem like they are. How Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist talks about Spotify telling us what to hear rather it being a listener-led discovery. How smaller musician-run platforms might be the way forward. From mood playlists and genre mixes to these daily playlists that seem restricted and narrow, there does need to be a change – or a better alternative. We all have our own relationship with Spotify, though I am a bit conflicted. I recognise its issues and numerous limitations. However, I do use Spotify constantly and could not produce as much as I do without it. Liz Pelly, in her book, asks what we can do collectively to revalue music and its worth. Producing a more sustainable and better economy and model. For musicians and music lovers alike, this is a book that…
EVERYONE needs to read.