And Why I Think Musicians Are Fighting the Wrong Battle
If you'd rather watch, here's the full video.
Lately my social media feed has been full of musicians posting anti-AI images.
A few made me stop and think.
I think we're fighting the wrong battle.
But I do understand where they're coming from.
Musicians have already watched technology change the way people buy music, value music, and pay for music. Streaming didn't exactly arrive carrying a fruit basket for us independent artists.
So when another piece of technology shows up and everyone starts saying, "This is the future," I don't think artists are wrong to flinch.
We've been here before.
Then I realized I was doing it too
I need to be honest.
When I first started using AI, I was fascinated by how quickly it could turn a messy thought into something polished. You type something in and seconds later — there's your answer. Fully formed.
There was definitely a little moment of...
"Ooo... look at me. I sound so smart."
Which is fun for about five minutes. Maybe ten.
Then you read it back.
It sounds smart.
But it doesn't sound like you.
Hold on a sec... what did I just say?
That's when I began rethinking things.
The problem wasn't that AI sounded artificial.
The problem was that it sounded like somebody else.
It used words I'd never say. It polished away all my rough edges. It took a perfectly good human thought and dressed it in a custom-made pinstripe suit.
No thank you.
I hadn't taught it my voice.
I hadn't shown it what I cared about.
I hadn't told it the words I refuse to use.
Of course it gave me generic.
I hadn't asked for anything better.
The concerns are real
I'm not pretending there aren't real issues here.
There are serious questions around copyright, consent, training data, and artists' work being scraped without permission.
Those conversations matter. A lot.
Some AI-generated work is genuinely awful. And I've fallen into that trap too.
There. I said it.
Some of it is lazy.
Some of it is bland.
Some of it looks impressive for about three seconds.
Then something doesn't sit right.
That's what people have started calling AI slop.
And they're not entirely wrong.
A bad AI poster is still a bad poster.
A generic AI caption is still generic.
An AI song with no lived experience behind it might be technically clever, but that doesn't mean it has anything worth saying.
The part people don't always see
Here's what my week actually looks like.
I sing.
I write.
I rehearse.
I book gigs.
I answer emails.
I update my website.
I write newsletters.
I edit videos.
I create social media posts.
I apply for grants.
I track expenses.
I follow up with venues.
Somewhere in there I'm supposed to be a functioning human being who remembers to eat vegetables and drink water and find time to sit on the couch and watch BritBox with my husband.
So when someone tells me I shouldn't use AI, my first thought is...
"Okay... which part of my workload are you volunteering to take?"
Support isn't the same as replacement
Would I rather hire a graphic designer?
Sometimes, absolutely.
Would I rather have a virtual assistant helping with emails, planning, follow-ups, and all the little jobs that pile up behind the scenes?
Without question.
But most independent musicians can't afford that level of support all the time.
That's where AI has become useful for me.
Not because it replaces creative people.
Because it gives me help I couldn't otherwise afford.
That's an important distinction.
I use AI to clear the clutter
This is probably the simplest way I can explain it.
I don't use AI to replace my voice.
I use it to clear the clutter around my voice.
That's a very different thing.
I don't want AI writing my songs.
I don't want it smoothing me into another beige paragraph floating around the internet.
What surprised me most is that AI has become more useful for thinking than writing.
I'll use it to analyze my YouTube channel and help me spot patterns I would have missed.
I'll use it to plan a tour before I spend hours on the road.
I'll use it to compare grant opportunities and keep track of deadlines.
I'll use it to build a content plan, draft an email, or help me untangle a problem when I'm too close to see it clearly.
Sometimes I'll simply talk through an idea that's bouncing around in my head and let it ask me questions I hadn't thought to ask.
None of that replaces my judgment.
It doesn't make the decisions for me.
It just helps me make better decisions a little faster.
And when I'm staring at a blank page and my brain has packed a bag and left town, it can help me find my way back.
That doesn't make me less of an artist.
It helps me spend more time being one.
Fast isn't the same as good
I think we've started confusing fast with good.
They're not the same thing.
A talented graphic designer brings judgment, taste, restraint, typography, and an understanding of the audience.
AI can generate an image.
It can't tell you what belongs on the poster.
The same is true in music.
AI can imitate a style.
It can generate lyrics.
It can build a track.
But it doesn't know what it feels like to stand in front of a room full of people and sing through grief or intense stage fright.
It doesn't know why one imperfect note can matter more than ten perfect ones.
That part is still ours.
I think live music becomes even more valuable
Here's my prediction.
As AI content floods the internet, live music becomes more valuable, not less.
People are going to crave the thing that only happens in a room.
A laugh that wasn't planned.
A story that lands differently because of who's sitting in the audience.
A note that hangs just a little longer because everyone in the room is holding their breath.
No algorithm can recreate that.
That's where I think musicians need to lean in.
Not by pretending AI doesn't exist.
Not by using it to make more noise.
But by getting clearer about the things only we can do.
Our taste.
Our stories.
Our choices.
Our humanity.
The artist still has to stay in charge
I don't think AI makes mediocre artists great.
I think it makes good artists faster.
And it makes lazy artists louder.
That's why the artist has to stay in charge.
The tool isn't the work.
The tool supports the work.
Microphones are tools.
Recording software is a tool.
Canva is a tool.
Email is a tool.
AI is a tool.
None of them replace the artist unless we hand over the steering wheel.
I'm not interested in doing that.
I still want my voice to sound like me.
I still want my songs to come from my own life or my imagination.
I still want people to recognize me when they hear me speak or read something I've written.
So yes, I'll keep using AI.
I just won't let it drive.