I read an article in the Guardian the other day about how the ChatGPTs and Google Geminis of the world have caused search traffic to news sites to crash by 30 percent over the past 12 months. The expectation is that click-throughs will dwindle by an additional 40 percent in the coming years. Why bother digging through a lengthy article when the gist of it can be read in 30 seconds? Such Cliff Notes-like summaries seem like a worthwhile thing, saving us time and, when pay walls are involved, money, but they open the door to incorrect characterizations of the facts—similar to when I asked Google’s Gemini to review an album for me. I suspect that they’re next-generation propaganda machines in the making, little else.
The same dangers are faced by the arts. I admit that I enjoy using Gemini to create silly scenes for my decades-old OGC imagery and, too, to turn my cat photos into cool-looking “art,” but I’d never pass them off as more than what it is—glorified clip-art. Some people, however, are turning to AI to crank out “art” that’s little more than a pale imitation of the greats—and, too, the many contemporary artists who walk among us, and passing it off as an original. While some aficionados will care, what about everyday people who just want something to fill a blank spot on the wall? I have my doubts.
The same dumbing down is taking place on the music-streaming services. Many folks lean on playlists and automatic plays to quell the silence of their empty lives; they don’t care what plays, per se, just that it fits the parameters they have in mind. One high-profile consequence is Spotify injecting its own AI-generated “music” into its recommended tracks and playlists. Why pay royalties for background noise?
As a result, last month, I set out to see what it’s about. I opened a free account on Suno, a well-known AI music-creation machine, and crafted a few “songs.” I dashed off lyrics while watching TV, detailed how the music supporting them should sound, and within minutes had noncommercial tunes that made my wife and select friends laugh—and, too, think me daft.
Here’s one:
Here’s another:
And here’s a third:
Now, the first finds me celebrating our two kittens and, too, the smoky jazz of long ago. The second is me channeling my inner Stephen Stills, though the music didn’t turn out as intended. (I wanted a more Manassas vibe.) The third is me channeling Dolly Parton and Merle Haggard because “Coat of Many Colors” and “If We Make It Through December” were both on my mind. With a paid subscription, I could have further tweaked the music—and, I think, even have Suno redo my lyrics! What better way to create something from nothing! And, for the Spotifys of the world, what better way to sidestep third-party payments!
As someone who has spent a lifetime celebrating music artists in print and on the web, I’m concerned. I’ve taken a bit of a break this month and even last, for reasons I’ll detail in the coming weeks, but for now: I plan to start spotlighting new songs and albums from artists (new and old) next week at the same pace I did last year.
The Old Grey Cat 