Every new tool redraws the line. Pianos, synths, CGI - each was called “fake” before becoming art. Now it’s AI music. Will we settle for shortcuts, or learn to make this new instrument sing?
If you want to understand where music is going, look back. From the piano’s heresy to synthesizers’ rise, from silent films to movie “talkies,” the story of every creative medium is the story of new tools—and the fights they spark. Watch a Marvel blockbuster or The Mandalorian and you’ll see what practical effects once made impossible: whole worlds conjured from pure digital vision. Play an old movie or album, and what was once a miracle now sometimes feels clunky, even quaint.
Now, generative AI joins that tradition. For all the hand-wringing, history reminds us - this isn’t a rupture; it’s the latest verse.
Remember when synthesizers threatened rock? When auto-tune sounded blasphemous? These technologies arrived, met resistance, and eventually became invisible—just like CGI did in film, liberating creators to push boundaries MCU-style. Still, every leap unlocks new questions:
Today, AI-generated music raises these stakes not just for musicians, but for the whole creative economy. The stakes aren’t only artistic. When AI generates music at scale, questions of attribution, royalties, and labor come front and center. Just as sampling pushed copyright law to evolve, AI music may force new civic and economic frameworks to protect creativity while broadening access.
There are two clear camps forming as AI music tools mature:
The Verge documented how AI photography (“promptography”) fakes photorealistic scenes almost indistinguishable from reality. Berlin’s Boris Eldagsen fooled a major photography award jury with his AI photo, later rejecting the prize to make a point: skillful prompting takes time, deliberate choices, and iterative refinement—not just “type and submit.” His work often required months of effort, involving continuous creation, refinement, and iteration - creativity and vision.
Where CGI, synthesizers, and even sampling faced “that’s fake” backlash, their skeptics missed how innovation expands the canvas instead of tearing it down. Marvel’s world-building wasn’t possible before CGI’s breakthrough. Today, AI is rapidly becoming that new stage for music—removing the final technical walls for anyone with ideas, not just technical prowess.
But as with Boris’s “promptography,” the difference between forgettable and iconic is craft: know-how, iteration, willingness to embrace what the machine suggests, then bring it into line with human intent.
The real fear isn’t that everyone can create—it’s whether everyone will settle for what’s easy, or strive for what’s meaningful.
Most importantly, new categories and labels are needed. Prompt-based art isn’t traditional photography, and AI-created music isn’t simply “music.” Both will need new language, standards, and ethics to guide attribution, compensation, and audience understanding.
This moment isn’t an end or a loss. It’s an expansion—one where more people than ever can shape sound and vision, and the barriers to entry fall. But just as in film and photography, the future will belong to those who learn the craft, not just those who find a shortcut.
History shows: the future doesn’t belong to the button-pushers. It belongs to the ones who learn to make the new instrument sing. Are you seeking the next filter - or the next movement? In music, as in all art, it’s always the second group who make history.
