An article published in the June edition of The Atlantic magazine explored the state of songwriting and music-making in 2025.
Writer Spencer Kornhaber interviewed musicians and music writers and historians whom he referred to collectively as “declinists.” They are united in their belief that the music industry is cratering and may not rebound.
It may be that every generation, as it advances in years, carps that music — as a matter of taste — isn’t as good as it used to be, but the Kornhaber thesis is different. His article suggests that the quality of music, objectively assessed, is suffering at the same time that it is becoming more difficult for musicians to make their art their living.
Gone is the day when musicians thrived on album sales. Music fans instead find their grooves using on-demand services. Spotify offers an AI-powered disc jockey that selects songs for subscribers based on their favored artists and listening behavior — in the same way that Netflix recommends movies and online retailers suggest products for their customers.
The result is that people wind up listening to old stuff consistent with their established patterns versus exploring new releases.
Artists, meanwhile, make but a few pennies per play on Spotify. Some hastily produce lots of marginal recordings in efforts to grow their income, while hoping that one of them somehow goes viral.
Quality suffers, and the declinists look to fix the blame on technology. Unhappy bunch, they are.
Arts critic Dean Kissick optimistically believes that people including artists and musicians “should engage with the times we live in, and then maybe we’d feel less hopeless about everything.”
Versus “running out of ideas,” Kissick suggests that creatives “find new ways to use time-honored techniques while also being open to experimenting with emerging tools including AI.”
Historically, people, versus staying content with naturally occurring dyes and binders, arrived at latex, acrylic and epoxy paints. The music world welcomed electric instruments and amplification.
Kissick, however, sees little potential for a cultural reawakening that might resuscitate music, given the self-absorbed, device-centered conduct of the masses these days.
“Perhaps we will get over this deeply individualistic, deeply self-obsessed moment,” Kissick told Kornhaber. “But I don’t know how that would happen.”
I am fortunate to work at TechFarms where the culture revolves around problem-solving and forward thinking. I work with engineers who defy the stereotype relied upon by an old riddle: How can you tell if an engineer is an extrovert? He looks at your shoes when talking with you instead of his own.
Chaos Audio, a tenant company at the TechFarms business incubator, has an amped-up CEO who has employed technology in arriving at devices designed to enhance musical performance, an example of precisely the kind of marriage of old and new that Kissick views as possible.
Engineer and entrepreneur are words that connote creative endeavor and the pursuit of a better world. To the declinists, I would say that reversals are possible.
Music is powerful. Musicians are valuable. Solutions will be engineered. In the future, we will have new ways to consume, share, own and display recorded music and music yet to be written.
Don’t be surprised if TechFarms figures in that progress.
