AI In The Music Business: Evolution, Not Extinction
In this guest column, Meghna Mittal, Co-founder & CRO of Hoopr, explores how Artificial Intelligence is reshaping the music business,not as a threat, but as a collaborator.
In this guest column, Meghna Mittal, Co-founder & CRO of Hoopr, explores how Artificial Intelligence is reshaping the music business,not as a threat, but as a collaborator.
There’s a new producer in the studio and it doesn’t sleep, argue over royalties, or miss a deadline. Artificial Intelligence has entered the music business not as a passing trend but as a disruptive collaborator, forcing everyone from indie artists to labels to ask: Is this the end of human creativity, or the beginning of a new kind of music economy?
The truth, as always, sits somewhere between fear and fascination.
AI is no longer just a backend assistant helping streaming apps recommend your next song. It’s writing lyrics, composing melodies, and even singing. Tools like Suno, Udio, and AIVA can generate entire tracks from a text prompt in seconds. Meanwhile, platforms such as Endel create “adaptive soundscapes”, AI-driven ambient music designed to match your mood, sleep pattern, or productivity levels.
For many traditionalists, this feels like trespassing. The sacred process of songwriting, once born out of heartbreak, rebellion, and late-night inspiration, now risks being reduced to algorithmic mimicry. And yet, what’s happening is also extraordinary: AI isn’t replacing emotion; it’s reinterpreting it.
Take Grimes, for example. She launched a project called Elf.Tech, allowing anyone to use her AI-trained voice model to create new music, as long as she gets a 50% royalty split. “I think we’re moving towards a future where artists become brands and their sounds become open-source,” she said. It’s a provocative thought, but perhaps the most democratic one we’ve seen in decades.
For the music industry, AI’s impact is far more economic than existential.
Labels and rights holders are scrambling to define what ownership even means in this new landscape. Is a song created with AI voice cloning an infringement or a collaboration? How do we credit an algorithm in a royalty sheet?
Universal Music Group, for instance, recently issued takedown requests for “fake Drake” and “AI Weeknd” tracks that went viral on TikTok,songs not officially made by the artists but indistinguishable to most listeners. Within days, the same industry that dismissed AI as a novelty was forced to confront its power.
What these incidents exposed was not the threat of AI itself, but the fragility of our current systems of control. The lines between creativity, technology, and rights are blurring faster than policy can catch up.
And yet, behind closed doors, every major label is experimenting with AI, from remixing catalogs to generating multilingual versions of songs. For businesses built on scale and efficiency, AI isn’t the enemy; it’s an accelerant.
If the big players are nervous, the independents are thrilled. AI has levelled the playing field like nothing before. An indie musician in Pune can now produce a track that sounds radio-ready without booking a studio, hiring session players, or learning advanced production.
Software like LANDR can master tracks instantly; Boomy lets users compose and upload songs to Spotify in minutes; AI lyric generators like ChatGPT (ironically, yes) can help beat writer’s block. What used to take weeks of studio time and thousands of rupees can now be achieved over coffee and Wi-Fi.
As one Mumbai-based producer recently told me, “AI doesn’t take away the soul, it removes the struggle.”
But here’s the catch: if everyone can make music, what becomes of originality? When abundance replaces rarity, value shifts from creation to curation. That’s where human instinct still reigns supreme, knowing which song, which voice, and which story can truly move people.
Music, at its core, is a conversation between the artist and the audience. AI can predict patterns, mimic tonality, and optimize engagement, but it still can’t replicate intent. It can write a love song, but it doesn’t know heartbreak. It can analyze billions of data points but still misses the magic of imperfection, the quiver in a voice, the silence before a chorus drops, the sound of human breath between notes.
And that, perhaps, is where the debate finds its balance.
AI can amplify creativity but not originate emotion. The best music of tomorrow may not be human or machine-made, it will be co-authored.
In a recent panel, Hamza Kazi of Hello Group summed it up well: “We shouldn’t fear AI, we should train it to serve art, not override it. The best producers will be the ones who know how to blend machine precision with human imperfection.”
Much like synthesizers once did for electronic music or autotune for pop, AI will simply expand the creative vocabulary of our times. It won’t kill the songwriter, it will push the songwriter to think differently.
As listeners, we’ve already accepted playlists that know us better than we know ourselves. As creators, the challenge now is to ensure the technology reflects our humanity, not replaces it.
So maybe it’s time we stop asking whether AI will change the music business and start asking how we want it to.
Because if there’s one thing history has taught us, it’s this: music always finds a way to stay human.