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Spotify’s most-streamed artist of 2017 is: Ed Sheeran

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Spotify’s most-streamed artist of 2017 is: Ed Sheeran

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"Ed Sheeran’s ÷ (Divide) was the most streamed album of the year worldwide with 3.1 billion streams, and ‘Shape of You’ became the most streamed track of all time on Spotify, now with over 1.4 billion streams."

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Today, Spotify reveals its annual Year in Music lists, showing the top artists, albums, tracks and moments that made 2017 such an amazing year for music fans.

Spotify can reveal that Ed Sheeran is the most streamed artist of 2017 globally, and remains the #1 most streamed artist on Spotify with 47 million monthly listeners.

Ed Sheeran's ÷ (Divide) was the most streamed album of the year worldwide with 3.1 billion streams, and 'Shape of You' became the most streamed track of all time on Spotify, now with over 1.4 billion streams.

"Ed Sheeran absolutely dominated this year with the release of his record-breaking album, Divide," said Stefan Blom, Spotify's Chief Content Officer. "There is no doubt that 2017 was The Year of Ed Sheeran, and we are thrilled that so many millions of music fans have discovered, listened to, and shared his music on Spotify. Congratulations to Ed on an amazing achievement."

Despite Ed Sheeran's huge success this year, Hip Hop continues to play a major role in music listening around the world. Overall, Hip Hop listening increased 74% over the past year according to Spotify data - a significant increase, particularly considering Hip Hop's popularity in 2016.

In what was a landmark year for Latin music, its listening increased by 110%, with two Latin tracks hitting #1 on Spotify for the first time: 'Despacito' and 'Mi Gente', as well as 10 Latin songs appearing on Spotify's Global Top 50. 'Despacito - Remix' by Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee featuring Justin Bieber was named Spotify's 'Song of the Summer,' showing the culture's reach. Yankee also held the #1 position on Spotify in July - a first for a Latin artist.

Check out the full breakdown below of this year's rankings and musical trends and head to spotify.com/2017 for the top playlists of 2017, Year in Music playlists, videos, and more.

And, in addition to Spotify's Year in Music top lists, visitors can check out their own personalized list of their most-streamed artists and songs this year by visiting 2017wrapped.com.

Spotify's Global Year in Music 2017
Most Streamed Artists
Ed Sheeran was the world's most streamed artist with over 6.3 billion streams this year, dethroning Drake who took the top spot in 2015 and 2016. In fact, Drake is the only top 5 artist carried over from last year, with Ed Sheeran, The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar and The Chainsmokers all new to the top 5 list of artists this year.
Most Streamed Female Artists
For the third year in the row, Rihanna takes home the title of most streamed female artist, continuing her reign at the top. Pop superstars Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Ariana Grande and Sia round out the top 5.
Most Streamed Male Artists
Ed Sheeran naturally dominates the Most Streamed Male Artists list, but for the first time we see Daddy Yankee claim a spot in the Top Five Most Streamed Male Artists list this year.
Top Five Breakout Artists
2017 was a big year for artists in groups breaking out on their own to go solo. Camila Cabello, Harry Styles and Liam Payne all went solo this year and hit it big on their own as the top 3 breakout artists of the year. Rappers Lil Pump and Trippie Red round out the list.
Most Streamed Groups
This year, Coldplay's collaboration with The Chainsmokers on 'Something Just Like This' catapulted them to the top of the groups list, followed by Imagine Dragons bringing the 'Thunder' with Maroon 5, Linkin Park and Migos closing out the list.
Most Streamed Tracks
Ed Sheeran's 'Shape of You' surpassed Drake's 'One Dance' by becoming the most popular song ever on Spotify with over 1.4 billion streams.
Most Streamed Albums
After dropping ÷ ( Divide) in March, Ed Sheeran's album has racked up over 3.1 billion streams on Spotify, making it the most streamed album of the year.
Most Musical Day 2017:
June 13, 2017 (measured by most streams per user)
Emerging 2017 Genres:

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Today, Spotify reveals its annual Year in Music lists, showing the top artists, albums, tracks and moments that made 2017 such an amazing year for music fans.Spotify can reveal that Ed Sheeran is the most streamed artist of 2017 globally, and remains the #1 most streamed artist on Spotify with 47 million monthly listeners.Ed Sheeran's...

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Digital streaming behind biggest rise in UK music sales for two decades

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Digital streaming behind biggest rise in UK music sales for two decades

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"Platforms such as Apple Music and Spotify plus renaissance in vinyl records help fuel fastest annual growth since 1998"

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A surge in music streaming via digital services including Spotify and Apple Music has prompted the fastest growth in UK music consumption since the late 1990s.

UK consumers bought the equivalent of more than 135m albums last year across all formats - which include CDs, vinyl, digital downloads and streams from subscription services.

Q&A
What were the 10 top-selling UK albums in 2017?

1 Ed Sheeran - Divide
2 Rag'n'Bone Man - Human
3 Sam Smith - The Thrill Of It All
4 Little Mix - Glory Days
5 Pink - Beautiful Trauma
6 Ed Sheeran - x
7 Michael Ball & Alfie Boe - Together Again
8 Drake - More Life
9 Liam Gallagher - As You Were
10 Stormzy - Gang Signs & Prayer
Official artist album chart 2017 as compiled by the Official Charts Company

Thank you for your feedback.

That was a 9.5% increase on 2016, the biggest annual rise since 1998, when the charts were dominated by artists including All Saints, Massive Attack and the Verve.

The growth in buying and listening to music was driven by audio streaming, which leaped by 51.5% to just over 68m albums and helped offset falling sales of digital downloads and CDs.

Ed Sheeran was the most streamed artist after the release of his album Divide, and his Shape of You was also the most streamed individual track.

For the first time more than half of the total number of albums bought and listened to were streamed, according to the latest figures from the UK music industry trade body, the British Phonographic Industry [BPI], based on data from the Official Charts Company.

The value of music sales soared 10% to £1.2bn, helping to lift the total value of the UK entertainment market to a new all-time high of £7.2bn in 2017, its third consecutive year of growth after a decade of decline, according to the Entertainment Retailers Association (Era).

The continuing vinyl revival, which made turntables one of the must-have gadgets for 2017, also boosted sales. Hipsters, parents re-living their youth and young music fans searching for a more authentic sound together bought 4.1m vinyl albums - the highest number since 1991, when Simply Red's Stars topped the album chart and Nirvana's Nevermind was released.

Sheeran's Divide was the top selling album on every format. Other vinyl topsellers for 2017 included Liam Gallagher's As You Were, Fleetwood Mac's Rumours, which was originally released in 1977, and Amy Winehouse's Back to Black from 2006.

Q&A
What were the top 10 best-selling vinyl albums of 2017?

1 Ed Sheeran - Divide
2 Liam Gallagher - As You Were
3 Fleetwood Mac - Rumours
4 Guardians Of The Galaxy (soundtrack) - Awesome Mix 1
5 Amy Winehouse - Back To Black
6 Rag'n'Bone Man - Human
7 Pink Floyd - Dark Side Of The Moon
8 The Beatles - Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
9 Oasis - (What's The Story) Morning Glory
10 David Bowie - Legacy

Vinyl artist album chart 2017 compiled by Official Charts Company

Thank you for your feedback.

Not every format is on the increase: CD album sales dropped 12%, while downloads, using services such as iTunes and Amazon, dived 23.4%, according to the BPI and Official Charts Company. But cassette tapes also made a surprise comeback, registering a 43% rise in sales, as the soundtrack to the film Guardians of the Galaxy and the rock act Kasabian produced popular albums on the almost defunct format. However, the number of cassettes sold last year was still only 22,000.

British artists dominated the top sellers, with eight of 2017's top 10 albums across all formats. The chart toppers ranged from Sheeran to Rag'n'Bone Man, Sam Smith and Little Mix. The musical theatre star Michael Ball's latest album with the tenor Alfie Boe was also a top seller, alongside Stormzy and Liam Gallagher.

Geoff Taylor, the chief executive of BPI, said the rise of strong British acts was driving the growth in demand, but he warned that long-term growth was reliant on the industry persuading all digital platforms to pay fairly for their use of music and government action to limit illegal sites.

Kim Bayley, the chief executive officer of the Entertainment Retailers Association, said 24/7 access to music, video and games was driving demand for entertainment.

"In the past the growth of the market tended to be dependent on the release schedules of games publishers, film studios and record labels.

"Now we are seeing a market also driven by digital platforms and technologies," Bayley said.

Digital sales of films rose 22.2% last year, according to Era. That offset a 17% dive in sales of physical movie formats, such as DVD and Blu-ray, and the total value of the market rose 7.5% to £2.7bn. Only £40m was spent on DVD rental, down another 16% in just 12 months.

The top selling film across all formats was Disney's Beauty and the Beast, ahead of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, the musical animation Moana and JK Rowling's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, according to the Official Charts Company.

Physical formats are still popular in the games market. Successful titles such as Fifa 18 and Call of Duty: WWII, as well as the launch of Nintendo's Switch device, lifted sales of console games for the first time in nine years. Total sales rose 9.6% to £3.3bn.

A still from best-selling computer game Fifa 18. Photograph: EA Sports/PA

"Physical [formats] may no longer be the default option for many people that it once was, but it remains a substantial £2bn business," said Bayley.

"Where physical really comes into its own is where it offers something distinctive and additional to content, whether it is the tactile experience of vinyl or the simple fact that physical objects work well as gifts. I remain confident that physical entertainment formats will continue to be with us for years to come."

Follow Guardian Business on Twitter at @BusinessDesk, or sign up to the daily Business Today email here.

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Digital streaming behind biggest rise in UK music sales for two decades

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Platforms such as Apple Music and Spotify plus renaissance in vinyl records help fuel fastest annual growth since 1998

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Music streaming sites benefit indie singers at the expense of top 100 artists

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Music streaming sites benefit indie singers at the expense of top 100 artists

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Music streaming sites benefit indie singers at the expense of top 100 artists

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While free or low cost music streaming sources like Spotify decrease the use of paid music platforms, such as iTunes, a new study in the INFORMS journal Marketing Science, shows they significantly increase exposure for and ...

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Sure, We Streamed a Lot in 2017 But We Didn't Own Our Music

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Sure, We Streamed a Lot in 2017 But We Didn't Own Our Music

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Streaming more means owning less. The more music we stream, the less we own ourselves

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It felt a bit like deja vu. Reading over Wednesday's main music news headlines from the US and UK - we streamed a lot! More than ever! Also, people keep buying more vinyl! - I had the distinct sense that we'd been here before. The start of each year brings with it the usual blend of slow news cycle and annual stat dump. In the UK, the latter took the form of figures released by the BPI showing that in 2017 the majority of music was listened to on streaming services (50.4 percent, to be exact) for the first time ever, and that overall we consumed a higher volume of albums than the year before. In the US, music tracker Nielsen also reported an increase in how much music we all played, stating that "Overall consumption of albums, songs and audio on-demand streaming grew 12.5 percent year over year. A 59 percent increase in on-demand audio streams offset track and album sales declines."

Now, that all sounds like progress. Since first CD burning and then the internet and illegal downloads showed up, the recording industry has been scrambling to keep up with how our listening habits have changed. Specifically, how those habits have worked to undermine the profits that labels can make from music. Statistics like this, which paint a positive picture of the direction in which music consumption is moving, work well to counter the narrative that record labels are losing their grip on the music business. After all, even how we understand units of music - songs grouped onto albums, which we then buy, which maybe also entice us to see that act play live, which then might inspire us to buy expensive limited edition re-issues - has been totally shaped by the recording industry. Though streaming services have eroded the dominance of the album by unpacking that classic recording unit into its individual parts to be plugged into the AUX cord on their own, we still centre so much of our enjoyment of the art form of music on playing back recordings of it.

But there's another story being told by these figures, from both the BPI (the people behind the Official Charts Company, who basically know everything about what non-underground music we consume in Britain) and Nielsen Music (the people who know everything you listen to the in the US). Streaming more means owning less. That sounds obvious and dumb, but really sit on that idea for a second. The more music we stream, the less we own ourselves. And when we don't own the music we say we love, we kick open the door to engaging with music in ways we may not have considered for a couple of generations.

I know I'm getting borderline 'wake up sheeple!!' here, but the music business growing in the direction of making access to music dependent on tech companies - the Spotifys, Apples, Deezers of the world - takes the agency out of our hands anew. Obviously, the manufacturers of CD and vinyl once held that monopoly, as did the companies who made the CD and record players we'd use to play our music back. With that setup, you'd get a physical product to hold, pull out at parties, stack up, watch gather dust on a shelf and so on. But the brands that made CD players or whatever didn't insert themselves in as many other parts of our lives then. Playing a tape on a JVC device was just that - JVC wasn't also a company putting on festivals or offering artists money to exclusively release their music or producing podcasts in the same way that tech companies are now. I mean damn, the labels have had to shift in their seats to allow those companies a seat at the industry table, all in a matter of years.

Listening to more music while quietly scaling back on a music collection may not be that big of a deal for most people, but I've realised it matters to me. For a time, it seemed as though we would build huge digital libraries, with messy tags and sometimes no artwork and versions of songs that cut off right towards the end or carry over the sound of a CD skipping. But now we know that people aren't buying music online. Digital downloads are down again (by 23.4 percent in the UK), because honestly who is still hoarding individual tracks or whole albums on iTunes or Amazon?

Dragging and dropping tracks into playlists on Spotify is clean and slick - and always has the right artwork - but it's weird to know that ultimately that music isn't yours. It's yours until Spotify gets bought up or goes under or one day decides to change its terms. Relying on streams makes you what Variety dubbed a "drive-by consumer' late last year, in a piece on how Amazon announced they'd be dissolving their cloud music locker in 2019. They don't want you to own music either, it turns out. The question is whether that bothers you, or whether you're happy to step into a new era where music is less about a recording played on a personal device and more about the club, the front of the gig, the digital radio DJ's intro before a mix. By ushering in streams with open arms, the recording industry's main players may end up inadvertently inspiring us to see beyond their position of dominance. They may end up helping us remember that music isn't primarily designed to be a recording on which a price tag is slapped. And when that happens, who knows what the annual stats recap may look like.
You can find Tshepo wondering if her boxes of hundreds of CDs are still OK, on Twitter.

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Sure, We Streamed a Lot in 2017 But We Didn't Own Our Music

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It felt a bit like deja vu. Reading over Wednesday's main music news headlines from the US and UK - we streamed a lot! More than ever! Also, people keep buying more vinyl! - I had the distinct sense that we'd been here before.

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Merlin reveals global streaming boom for indie repertoire

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Merlin reveals global streaming boom for indie repertoire

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Merlin has unveiled new data that reveals the full extent of the global streaming consumption boom for independent music.

The global digital rights agency for the independent sector said the figures show that audio streaming uptake in territories such as Brazil, Mexico, Chile, the Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia is unlocking new opportunities for members.

In the last three years, earnings from streaming for indies paid out of Latin America increased five-fold - faster growth than North America, the UK and Europe. Since January 2015, Merlin's US-based labels have seen the Latin American share of their global streaming business almost double.

Brazil is now Merlin's sixth-biggest territory for earnings - ahead of France, Australia and Canada. Argentina, Mexico and Chile are also among Merlin's Top 20 highest-earning territories.

Charles Caldas, CEO, Merlin said: "Merlin's independent record label members already occupy a unique position on streaming services, with their repertoire consistently over-indexing on subscription tiers compared to free ad-supported ones. Users of these services deeply engage with Merlin members' music, and are willing to pay for it.

"We now have irrefutable evidence that the new dynamics of streaming are opening up previously inaccessible territories to independent music, with a phenomenal consumption surge in Latin America and across Asia. What feels particularly exciting is that we're only at the start of this growth trajectory - and with potential of relatively untapped markets, including China, Russia and Africa, still to be realised."

At current rates of growth, Merlin expects to generate more than $60 million (£42.9m) in revenues in 2018 across its audio streaming service partners in Latin America. US-based members represent around 50% of those earnings.

Caldas is due to explore the global streaming developments for independent record labels during a SXSW interview today (March15).

In Merlin's most recent membership survey, 42% of independent labels said that more than half of their digital revenue originated from consumption outside their home territory (compared to 17% for physical sales). Audio streaming accounts for the bulk of digital revenue for two-thirds of Merlin members.

Merlin acts collectively on behalf of more than 20,000 independent record labels and distributors from 53 countries. The 800-strong membership commands in excess of 12% of the global digital recorded music market. Merlin recently revealed that over a billion dollars had been paid out to members since 2008.

Last year it announced a multi-year global licence agreement with Spotify, as well as partnerships with more than 20 digital music services, including Deezer, Google Play, SoundCloud, YouTube Red, Pandora, Vevo and KKBOX.

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Merlin reveals global streaming boom for indie repertoire

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Merlin has unveiled new data that reveals the full extent of the global streaming consumption boom for independent music. The global digital rights agency for the independent sector said the figures show that audio streaming uptake in territories such as Brazil, Mexico, Chile, the Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia is unlocking new opportunities for members.

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Music streaming is booming… So what happens next?

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Music streaming is booming… So what happens next?

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The music industry is understandably excited about its streaming-fuelled return to growth over the past couple of years, but there's also a widespread awareness that this isn't the time for resting on laurels.

The challenges and opportunities around how streaming should evolve were a topic up for discussion in a panel at the FastForward conference in Amsterdam today.

FUGA's Anne Jenniskens; Nichestreem's Catherine Lückhoff; and musician Jeremy Pritchard (from British band Everything Everything) were the panelists, while Columbia Records UK's Sam Potts - also the founder of BuzzJam - moderated.

"I just saw a playlist the other day called 'Sweaty Sexy Songs for the Shower'. Maybe that's the next format for the music industry," joked Potts as an opener, before setting the scene with Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon's growth to 70 million, 36 million and 16 million paying subscribers respectively.

The role of artists - and streaming's impact on them - was the first topic up for discussion. "Every time we put an album out, because we still work in that method - the long-playing album - every time we do, every two, two and a half years, the playing field has altered," said Pritchard.

How? The truncation of the album cycle, for one. "The rollout, regardless of how long it is prior to the album, in week two, week three you're going to struggle to keep it in people's minds. That's why the Arcade Fire put eight singles out before the album dropped, and even they weren't able to buck that trend," he said. The album may now be a culmination of a campaign, in other words.

Jenniskens talked about the trends FUGA sees. "Many of our clients release more often, and smaller products. it's more singles, EPs and then every once in a while an album," she said. Pritchard agreed. "Artists have to release more frequently."

Playlists are fitting in to all this, with Lückhoff warning that "there's an enormous amount of power that the streaming services hold... that's the big question that we need to address soon, especially with companies like Spotify becoming more like labels. At what point do they start promoting their own artists?"

Pritchard compared playlist-pitching in the streaming world to radio in the 1960s and 1970s. "You have to have those relationships. Some people are further ahead in their relationships with DSPs. The major-label industry is still working that out," he said. "The majors are still working out how to forge those relationships."

Potts talked about the algorithmic playlists on these services, which in theory can put an artist's music in front of the fans who already love them - and the potential fans who haven't heard them yet, but are likely to love them.

How can artists and labels thrive in that world? Complete and correct metadata is crucial, said Jenniskens. "That means including names of contributors, all kinds of information that could help a music service or an algorithm surface your music as a match," she said.

Lückhoff talked about her company's work trying to work with music that doesn't have good metadata accompanying it: for example, mapping what genre or mood a track is, or what language it's in. "If that works, we don't need that metadata: we can still make recommendations... there's a whole new game being played." Metadata is important, but streaming services aren't just relying on labels to provide it before developing new discovery features to surface music.

Analytics also loomed large, with Pritchard cheerily admitting to not spending his time nose-deep in Everything Everything's Spotify analytics.

"I never look at that stuff... because I can't remember the logins!" he said. "Our manager showed me in the pub on his phone: 'Look, you an log in to Spotify and see people listening to you in Johannesburg' or wherever. That information is fascinating, but it wouldn't inform what we do in the studio on a day-to-day basis." He conceded that it is useful to inform the promotion of the music, though.

Are there other ways that streaming is changing the way music is written and recorded, though? Several recent articles have talked about the 'Spotify effect' of artists and producers bending their art towards what works well on streaming services.

"If you're in the business of hits at any cost, in the same way that you might have heard Phil Spector on the radio in the sixties and thought 'I'm going to ape that sound', you might do that now," said Pritchard.

"I would be lying if I didn't say we didn't structure songs - at least a quarter of the record - with radio, and thus streaming in mind... We did actually bend to that will, so it is affecting the way people structure songs. And it's certainly affecting the way that you sequence an album."

If streaming is the dominant consumption form for music in the future, is listening becoming even more of a 'lean-back' experience, asked Potts? So less engaged, and more casual, like traditional radio?

"I think it does, but that maybe has to do with the fact that music is now everywhere," said Jenniskens. "You still consume it in an active, very interactive way by targeting that artist, listening to his music. But because we now listen to music more often, for a longer period, instead of choosing actively what you listen to, listening becomes more lean-back. We now play music when we bake a pizza, when we go to the gym. Music consumption has become more context-based... And we cannot spend all of our time being actively involved, actively choosing what we are listening to."

Pritchard agreed. "It's heading in that direction, partly because of the playlisting culture. People listen to a playlist passively... rather than individually choosing track-by-track what they'll listen to. It's not totally black and white, but it's moving in that direction," he said, before quoting Jarvis Cocker's view that music is becoming 'like a scented candle' - just on in the background.

"The mass user has always been lean-back. That's why radio has been so successful," said Lückhoff. Does this bring risks for artists though, making it harder for them to build core fans? Or do people just become fans on playlists?

"It's a track-based culture rather than an artist-based culture I suppose," said Pritchard, who said this also ties in to a less tribal environment, where people are listening to a wider selection of artists and genres.

"That's been the case for 20-odd years. There's something healthy about that: people listen to all sorts now, and they don't see certain things as mutually exclusive... When I started our band we wanted to sound like Destiny's Child AND The Futureheads. And we didn't think that would sound horrible! And we've been given that licence by the post-modern, kaleidoscopic influence of listening to music on the internet."

"Although I grew up as a child of the 90s at the end of the 'album era', and that's how I like to listen to music, there's nothing inherently more noble in that. In the sixties, albums were something you essentially put out between the actual hits, while your artist was touring."

He came back to the idea of artists shifting to releasing a track at a time regularly, or clusters of songs in EPs, rather than albums. "Maybe those classifications won't matter any more... Pushing a format that I happen to favour personally, but which is not resounding commercially any more? I don't think it's going to be in labels' interests to make albums soon."

Has context and mood overtaken the importance of genre?

"Definitely. If you look at Indian consumers, they think of 'dance' and they think of 'love'. They don't think of it as genres," said Lückhoff. "I think people are more leaning towards a space of what's speaking to what I'm actively doing right now, or what mood I'm in?" Jenniskens agreed, suggesting that mainstream listeners relate more easily to a mood than to the multiplicity of musical genres.

Potts asked about whether the big streaming services are too similar: should there be more diverse options for music listeners than the current $9.99-a-month template?

"There is some sort of a standard, but the devil is in the details. Details can create a lot of variations," said Jenniskens. Lückhoff said that her company, Nichestreem, is actively looking for the gaps, for example around genre-based streaming services.

"People think niche is small. It's not," she said, pointing to gospel, metal, Christian music and other areas as ripe for specialised streaming services. "That's going to start happening in streaming: there are a lot of gaps to be filled there, for people who potentially don't want to pay as much, but want to support just the artists that they love... moving back to that space where fans have a very strong affinity to artists or cultures that they love. I think that's going to open up some gaps."

Pritchard thought there was scope for innovation within the big streaming services too: to help people go deeper into the artists they discover on the platforms, rather than just moving from track to track. "To regain that feeling we all had when we were younger about specific artists," as he put it.

Lückhoff, meanwhile, talked about removing the "$1m and 18 months" barrier for artists with a committed fanbase to launch their own streaming services, following in the footsteps of what Neil Young has done with his back catalogue.

Is there scope for streaming services to do more around social features and communities: helping artists talk to fans (and vice versa) and fans to connect with one another around music? Or is that always going to happen on Facebook, Twitter and other social sites instead?

"YouTube has that comment section which is just full of lunatics! That way madness lies," said Pritchard. "Facebook may develop their own music service or buy Spotify. Or Spotify may be waiting to launch its own social service where you create your own profile - and that might put them into profit! I don't know."

Lückhoff suggested that sharing tends to be a more private activity: people creating and swapping playlist links. But she thinks community is happening elsewhere: artists crowdfunding their albums and filming videos where fans are part of it: 'online-to-offline' connections. "I don't think there's enough opportunity for artists and fans to engage, which I think that social element could potentially fix."

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Music streaming is booming... So what happens next?

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The music industry is understandably excited about its streaming-fuelled return to growth over the past couple of years, but there's also a widespread awareness that this isn't the time for resting on laurels. The challenges and opportunities around how streaming should evolve were a topic up for discussion in a panel at the FastForward conference in Amsterdam today.

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Digital Music Consumption on the Internet:Evidence from Clickstream Data 

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Digital Music Consumption on the Internet:Evidence from Clickstream Data 

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"Our results suggest that Internet users do not view illegal downloading as a substitute to legal digital music. "

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How Has Streaming Affected our Identities as Music Collectors?

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How Has Streaming Affected our Identities as Music Collectors?

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M usic rarely exists in a vacuum. From classical concert programs and 12-track albums to DIY mixtapes and personal record shelves, we imbue songs with new meaning by connecting them to each other, by treating them as elements of a wider, self-constructed narrative.

We are music collectors by design and by necessity-an identity threatened by the rise of streaming.

In previous decades, physical formats like CDs, vinyl, cassettes and 8-tracks required us to limit our music consumption, if only to keep our wallets in shape. We didn't just throw money and time at music left and right, but rather invested more wisely in a handful of albums and artists, with whom we developed intimate relationships through repeated listens and colorful liner notes. Filling our binders and shelves with these records also facilitated a more positive, aspirational side of our aesthetic identities: we set tangible, attainable goals for our collections, and could show off these works in progress to our friends and family whenever they visited for dinner.

The three recent stages of digital disruption in music - which can be bookmarked by Napster, iTunes and Spotify - have made our collections more public, more granular and more abstract, respectively. Napster is known not only for making recorded music available at no monetary cost, but also for motivating users to share their musical tastes with each other (it's called file- sharing for a reason). iTunes unbundled the standard album into its individual tracks, enabling users to handpick their favorite songs and assemble a wider-reaching collection with a higher concentration of artists over the same amount of [virtual] surface area. Spotify not only has made musical shelf space infinite, but has also made the term "shelf space" irrelevant: its users own nothing. Instead, they pay for access, shelling out the rough cost equivalent of 12 CDs per year ($9.99 a month) to peruse millions of songs at their fingertips.

More significantly, to an extent, streaming services do all of our tedious music collecting work for us. With playlists as our framework, we can think of each streaming service as a unique "collection of collections," using a distinct philosophy of curation to unpack an otherwise noisy music catalog. Spotify, for instance, touts its algorithmic prowess, pushing fresh, tailored and automated collections like Discover Weekly and Release Radar to its users on a weekly basis. Apple Music prefers to market its "human" curational talent, frequently recruiting celebrity guests like Alexander Wang and Clare Waight Keller to fashion [no pun intended] their own playlists for clout-hungry listeners. Tidal takes pride in its limited reach, snagging exclusive distribution deals with masterpieces like Beyoncé's Lemonade and Kanye West's The Life of Pablo.

Any effort on our part to seize control of our music collecting habits away from these streaming services ultimately feels burdensome and futile. Exclusivity clauses à la Tidal make it difficult to consolidate one's entire online music collection into a single platform without paying for multiple streaming accounts (back in 2009, Eliot Van Buskirk suggested that the music industry build a global, universal, public database of songs to ease this friction between services, a vision that has since fallen through the cracks). The constant push for "discovery" - for maximizing the explorative opportunities enabled by data science - leads more and more streaming users to consume music like the average internet user consumes news: as brief sound bites that barely have time to breathe before being engulfed by new content.

All of these factors lead to a new type of digital music fan and collector: one who prioritizes breadth over depth, who sees collecting as performative rather than inquisitive, and who defines their tastes more by the how (the streaming services) than by the what (the songs). This profile presents a challenge for the music business in drawing attention away from music creators, the very lifeblood of the industry. Indeed, while streaming makes it easier for artists to reach potential new fans, it also makes it even more difficult to retain a group of loyal listeners.

After all, it is important to realize that we mourn music not when a song falls off the charts, nor when a streaming service fails to break even, but when we lose an artist. In 2016 alone, we said some of our most painful goodbyes as a collective music community to prominent figures like George Michael, Leonard Cohen, Prince and David Bowie. Unfortunately, deaths are the only opportunity many listeners have to dive deep into an artist's background and life story. In contrast, artist profiles on streaming services remain sparse, providing no context or biographical information aside from their discography and a list of related artists. While music streaming is better for the consumer from the perspective of time- and geography-based access, convenience should not erode connection.

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How Has Streaming Affected our Identities as Music Collectors?

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M usic rarely exists in a vacuum. From classical concert programs and 12-track albums to DIY mixtapes and personal record shelves, we imbue songs with new meaning by connecting them to each other, by treating them as elements of a wider, self-constructed narrative.

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Every Song Ever: Twenty Ways to Listen to Music Now by Ben Ratliff review – embrace the pleasures of streaming

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Every Song Ever: Twenty Ways to Listen to Music Now by Ben Ratliff review – embrace the pleasures of streaming

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“algorithms are listening to us” / "we should try to listen better than we are being listened to”

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It was in the days when a particular jazz radio station consistently failed to back-announce many of the tracks it played that I began to consider the possibility that I had spent my entire life listening to recorded music in the wrong way. That interesting record that had already started when I tuned in? It would forever remain a mystery. I couldn't go out and buy it, or fit it neatly into the organogram of musical evolution that all serious fans carry around in their heads. So I learned to relinquish the lifelong urge to fit every piece of music into an ever-expanding taxonomy. Suddenly stripped of context, the music was just there to be appreciated for itself, in the moment, in the way we apprehend it before knowledge sets up filters to shape our responses.

For a member of a generation of enthusiasts accustomed to collecting and classifying music with a librarian's rigour, this came as a shock. That rigour always seemed a slightly perverse response to music of black American origin, the spontaneity and informality of which had set postwar Britain free from a set of inherited cultural restraints. But it made it seem obligatory to possess the complete works not only of the obvious people - in my case Ornette Coleman, Bob Dylan, Curtis Mayfield, Terry Riley and so on - but also of figures cherished for their obscurity. Eventually, when the record industry was almost on its last legs, it spotted my generation's continuing weakness and found ways to feed it. Whereas the desire to own every 45 released on the Motown label in its first 10 years had once been a hopeless dream, a very expensive and carefully curated series of multi-disc sets brought that ambition within reach. That no one who is now under, say, 35 years of age is likely to feel such a compulsion represents an important saving of both money and living space.

"We can pretty much wave bye bye to the completist-music-collector impulse," Ben Ratliff writes in Every Song Ever. "It had a limited run in the human brain, probably 1930 to 2010 ... It is not only a way of buying, owning and arranging music-related objects and experiences in one's life, but also a distinct way of listening." Ratliff's interest is in exploring other, newer ways of listening in the age of Spotify. "Algorithms are listening to us," he observes. "At the very least we should try to listen better than we are being listened to."

The principal jazz critic of the New York Times for the past 20 years, Ratliff is equally comfortable with hip-hop, punk, classical music and many of the idioms gathered under the heading of world music. This is the qualification behind Every Song Ever, whose title refers to the modern listener's access, often at no financial cost, to virtually every note of music ever recorded. The author wants to show us how to listen across genres by applying different filters: not those of genre but something deeper, a set of qualities such as the one that unites Bud Powell's "Salt Peanuts", Jerry Lee Lewis's "High School Confidential", two versions of Scarlatti's Sonata in B minor (by Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli and Mikhail Pletnev), and OutKast 's "Da Art of Storytellin' (Part 1)".

In the case of those very contrasting selections, the unifying factor is speed. "Speed has no practical purpose in music," Ratliff writes, beginning a series of characteristic riffs. "It doesn't inherently increase or decrease the feeling of the notes themselves, or the listener's physical pleasure. Speed is to be considered separately from music. Speed in music is like a sweater on a dog: mostly for show. It increases tension, and its death-ride futility can feel attractive. It represents a tacit contract between the player and the listener: we're in this together, and it might come to no good."

Ratliff also writes about listening via volume, virtuosity, stubbornness, repetition, density, improvisation and discrepancy. There's a particularly interesting chapter on "audio space": recorded music as a representation of physical space, and how that has changed through the years in the exploitation of technology, from Janet Cardiff's installation based on Tallis's Spem in Alium to Stockhausen's Gesang der Jünglinge. He can hold your attention through a passage about listening through memory or pin you, in a closing chapter on perfect moments, by recalling a concert 30 years ago when Merle Haggard suddenly stroked his guitar strings from top to bottom: "I stopped breathing and felt as if a splinter were being withdrawn from my skin."

Sometimes he seems to want to use the book as a pretext for gathering up every piece of music he has ever loved and finding a theory to make collective sense of it all. Occasionally losing himself in his own reveries, he can lapse into the bafflingly obvious (on the Sufi singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan: "His long tones envelop the ongoing drone note, fuse with it, punch through to your hearing: an act of forceful attention, attention manifested through sound"). More often, as in his description of Eric Dolphy's alto saxophone improvisation on Charles Mingus 's version of "Stormy Weather", his deep listening can produce passages of sensitivity and precision.

Gratitude for digital technology's promise of infinite access cannot entirely erase this listener's loyalty to certain benefits of the physical disc, not least to the information printed on album sleeves and labels, which enabled us, for example, to join up the dots of composers, publishers, arrangers and producers in order to establish the human, commercial and geographical origins of a recording at a time when such information was scarce. But it would be unwise to assume a viable future for such an approach. The mission of Every Song Ever is to demonstrate that there will be compensations.

* To order Every Song Ever for £16 (RRP £20) go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.
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Every Song Ever: Twenty Ways to Listen to Music Now by Ben Ratliff review - embrace the pleasures of streaming

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It was in the days when a particular jazz radio station consistently failed to back-announce many of the tracks it played that I began to consider the possibility that I had spent my entire life listening to recorded music in the wrong way. That interesting record that had already started when I tuned in?

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Spotify’s obsession with mood and activity-based playlists 

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Spotify’s obsession with mood and activity-based playlists 

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"Spotify loves “chill” playlists: they’re the purest distillation of its ambition to turn all music into emotional wallpaper. They’re also tied to what its algorithm manipulates best: mood and affect.

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"Anything you want.
Anyone you want.
Anywhere you want.
Anyway! Anyway!"
-Priests, "Pink White House" (2017)

Imagine you are in an airport, and you have forgotten to eat lunch. It's a mistake you will pay for with a dull, expensive dinner. Hungry, meandering, you happen upon one of those iPads that line every other table, a machine that allows you to order without talking to other humans-a circumstance provided by capitalism's boundless quest to cash in on convenience. Of course, this doesn't make your experience any easier: within minutes, an employee scrambles over to assist you with the device, which keeps freezing when you choose the "bowls" tab. "Can I just tell you my order?" you ask, half-laughing, thoroughly hoping for a moment of commiserating solidarity over this disruptor™ fail. Instead she grabs the thing and helps you finalize your purchase. This person hates her job, but she's lucky that, for the moment, she still has it.

This worker is teaching people to use the iPads that will one day replace her. It's an awkward phenomenon that now pervades a growing cross-section of industries, a type of techno-solutionism that's unbearable because it insistently capitalizes on quick fixes for problems that didn't exist to begin with. It's also a disadvantageous mutation of principles that marketers have historically leveraged to make us feel bad about ourselves so that we'll buy more shit we don't need. It is all of these things, and it is also becoming the operating motive of the music industry.

The music world continues to be exceedingly vulnerable, and there are looming questions that desperately need to be addressed. Most important: How can artists distribute and sell their work in a digital economy beholden to ruthlessly commercial and centralized interests?

Enter Spotify, a platform that is definitely not the answer. In fact, it only exacerbates such conundrums. Yet for now it has manipulated the vast majority of music industry "players" into regarding it as a saving grace. As the world's largest streaming music company, its network of paying subscribers has risen sharply in recent years, from five million paid subscribers in 2012 to more than sixty million in 2017. Indeed, the platform has now convinced a critical mass that paying $9.99 per month for access to thirty million songs is a solid, even virtuous idea. Every song in the world for less than your shitty airport meal. What could go wrong?

Billionaires have thrown a lot of money at Spotify. As of September 2017, the platform has been valued at $16 billion by venture capitalists who see it as the next Netflix, and who have perhaps fooled themselves into trusting that this exploitative model will "save the music industry." Spotify's endgame, for now, is to go public. The company could be worth $20 billion by next year, when it will likely be listed on the New York Stock Exchange. According to Reuters, Spotify plans to file its intention of a public offering with U.S. regulators before the end of this calendar year and to go public in the first or second quarter of 2018. Bloomberg reports that it recently hired Goldman Sachs Group Inc., Morgan Stanley, and Allen & Co. to "assess its options."

Yet, despite its conventional market viability, there are key differences between Spotify and its rivals, Apple Music and Amazon Music, which both have the luxury of capitalizing on overpriced, fun-sized plastic and metal surveillance machines. For Apple Music, the bottom line is selling iPhones, laptops, iPads, and other hardware. Streaming music makes those products more valuable. For Amazon Music, the motive is similar; they aim to sell Alexa devices and Amazon Prime subscriptions.

But Spotify's worth is more ephemeral. Its value-what makes it addictive for listeners, a necessity for artists, and a worthwhile investment for venture capitalists-lies in its algorithmic music discovery "products" and its ability to make the entire music industry conform to the new standards it sets. This means one thing: playlists are king, and particularly the ones curated by Spotify itself. An unprecedented amount of data ("skip rates" and "completion rates" determine whether a song survives) and "human-machine technology" are deployed to quantify your tastes. This is what lies behind the "magic" of Spotify.

Spotify and Chill

To understand the danger Spotify poses to the music industry-and to music itself-you first have to dig beneath the "user experience" and examine its algorithmic schemes. Spotify's front page "Browse" screen presents a classic illusion of choice, a stream of genre and mood playlists, charts, new releases, and now podcasts and video. It all appears limitless, a function of the platform's infinite supply, but in reality it is tightly controlled by Spotify's staff and dictated by the interests of major labels, brands, and other cash-rich businesses who have gamed the system. On Monday, you'll find "Discover Weekly," an algorithmically created playlist of recommendations based on your listening habits. On Friday, there's "New Music Friday," a highly coveted and well trafficked playlist of mostly Top-40 content, thoroughly inaccessible to anyone but major labels. The rest of the front page arrangement depends on the date and time, but you'll likely see one of its most prized brands-like the popular and also major label-saturated "RapCaviar"-or else music that somehow opportunistically rides the news cycle: Which celebrity musician died today? Otherwise, you'll find songs tied to moods or activities, like "Good Vibes" or "Wild + Free." And you will most certainly see something along the lines of "Chilled Folk," "Chill Hits," "Evening Chill," "Chilled R&B," "Indie Chillout," or "Chill Tracks."

Spotify loves "chill" playlists: they're the purest distillation of its ambition to turn all music into emotional wallpaper. They're also tied to what its algorithm manipulates best: mood and affect. Note how the generically designed, nearly stock photo images attached to these playlists rely on the selfsame clickbait-y tactics of content farms, which are famous for attacking a reader's basest human moods and instincts. Only here the goal is to fit music snugly into an emotional regulation capsule optimized for maximum clicks: "chill.out.brain," "Ambient Chill," "Chill Covers." "Piano in the Background" is one of the most aptly titled; "in the background" could be added to the majority of Spotify playlists.

As an industry insider once explained to me, digital strategists have identified "lean back listening" as an ever more popular Spotify-induced phenomenon. It turns out that playlists have spawned a new type of music listener, one who thinks less about the artist or album they are seeking out, and instead connects with emotions, moods and activities, where they just pick a playlist and let it roll: "Chillin' On a Dirt Road," "License to Chill," "Cinematic Chill Out." They're all there.

These algorithmically designed playlists, in other words, have seized on an audience of distracted, perhaps overworked, or anxious listeners whose stress-filled clicks now generate anesthetized, algorithmically designed playlists. One independent label owner I spoke with has watched his records' physical and digital sales decline week by week. He's trying to play ball with the platform by pitching playlists, to varying effect. "The more vanilla the release, the better it works for Spotify. If it's challenging music? Nah," he says, telling me about all of the experimental, noise, and comparatively aggressive music on his label that goes unheard on the platform. "It leaves artists behind. If Spotify is just feeding easy music to everybody, where does the art form go? Is anybody going to be able to push boundaries and break through to a wide audience anymore?"

We should call this what it is: the automation of selling out.

Indeed, Spotify's obsession with mood and activity-based playlists has contributed to all music becoming more like Muzak, a brand that created, programmed, and licensed songs for retail stores throughout the twentieth century. In the 1930s, the company prioritized workplace soundtracks that were meant to heighten productivity, using research to evaluate what listeners responded to most. In many ways, this is not unlike the playlist category called "Focus" that we see now on Spotify. In March 2011, Muzak was purchased by Mood Media, a company that provides in-store music, signs, scents, and video content. The similarity between the objectives of companies like Muzak and Mood Media, and the proliferation of mood-based playlists on Spotify, is more than just a linguistic coincidence; Spotify playlists work to attract brands and advertisers of all types to the platform.

The Automation of Selling Out

Advertising and branding products are used all over Spotify: videos, audio, commercial breaks, clickable image pop-ups, overlays, the sponsoring of (extremely popular) Spotify-owned playlists, the sponsoring of live session videos, home page takeovers, and standalone advertisements. Some are banner advertisements, others are advertorial, and still others blur the line. And this is part of a grander confusion: the very idea of what it means to be an "independent artist" in 2017 has been eroded as more and more artists find themselves beholden to corporate platforms of all types.

Spotify also presents a new and complicated extension of hyper-commercial webspace, and it's a development that could prove to be particularly harmful for musicians: the corporate-branded playlists. This "feature" could be explained as the platform's interpretation of corporate personhood, where paid-for brand accounts can create their own profiles and make playlists in the manner of the platform's regular users. This has led to a proliferation of playlists made by brands. For example: the "Coffeehouse Pop" made by the official Starbucks page, or the "Running Tempo Mix" created by Nike Women. So long as corporations have at least twenty songs on their playlists and don't include an artist more than once, they're good. In the past, such an arrangement would require a given artist to sign a licensing or advertising deal, and it often appeared transactional, hence the traditional notion of "selling out." Today on Spotify, artists often have no idea they've been added to these playlists. I only managed to discover this phenomenon upon plugging a friend's band name into a tool called "Spot On Track," which uses Spotify's public API to present the different playlists where specific artists and their tracks appear. My friend's band was completely unaware of its inclusion on the Nike and Starbucks playlists, and the band receives no additional compensation beyond the usual streaming royalties sent to labels and rights-holders.

We should call this what it is: the automation of selling out. Only it subtracts the part where artists get paid. On their "Brand Playlist Guidelines" page linked within the company's Terms and Conditions, Spotify offers telling advice to brands:

If you have a reason to believe a specific artist may have a problem with your brand, it's probably smart to stay away from that artist . . . Keep your playlists editorial in nature; don't try to make it a commercial for your product. Just like other Spotify users do, show the world what kind of music your brand likes to listen to while partying, driving, or enjoying a cup of coffee.

It is absurd to suggest that a playlist created by Bacardi, Gatorade, BMW, or Victoria's Secret could exist for any purpose other than the sale of its liquor, sports drinks, cars, or fancy lingerie. And this encouragement of a false sense of objectivity found on its Terms of Service is seen nowhere on its "Spotify for Brands" website, where it has published a series of articles luring corporations to the platform: "In the biggest game of the year, many of the ads feature music front and center, whether it's a big hit like Eminem's 'Lose Yourself' [Chrysler's memorable 2011 spot] or an indie jam like Hundred Waters' 'Show Me Love' [Coca-Cola's 2015 spot]," the article explains, directly equating branded playlists to an expression of commercialism. "Using music effectively can also mean curating the perfect playlist that reflects the sound of your brand."

Brand playlists are advertisements, even if Spotify strives to imbue them with so-called editorial integrity. Such uncompensated advertorial playlists are harmful in that they offer artists no option to opt-out, but also because they undercut what can sometimes be a valuable source of revenue for artists. If brands can align themselves with artists without having to pay specifically for individual tracks or artist appearances, what do we think they'll do? Can we at least give people the option to sell out if they want?

"For artists who do have those opportunities and are comfortable with it, sponsorships, as well as commercial syncs, can contribute an important revenue stream, a component of how they're able to scrape together a living," says Kevin Erickson of the Future of Music Coalition, when reached by phone in September. "If brands are able to use branded playlists to score extra cool points from the association with musicians, but without the expense of actually paying musicians anything extra for lending their aura of cool, without even having to obtain permission for the association-well, maybe we'll start to see that revenue stream dry up too."

No Platform

The avant-punk four-piece Deerhoof's 2016 single "Plastic Thrills" is featured on "Nike Running Tempo Mix," which boasts over five hundred thousand followers. The playlist is featured prominently on the "Workout" sub-page within Spotify's Browse feature, along with a few other Nike playlists, which is considerably rare-not many playlists found through Browse are currently curated by brands other than Spotify itself or the major labels.

In conversation with Deerhoof drummer Greg Saunier about the Nike playlist, he recalls a time in 2007 when a group of artists filed a class action lawsuit against Camel cigarettes and Rolling Stone for publishing an advertorial on the history of indie rock, one that used more than one hundred artist names without permission. The band was happy to be included and inspired to see their peers push back against corporate exploitation. "The difference now is that, if you don't bow down to Spotify, you might as well tell whoever runs the guillotine that's above your neck to just let her rip," Saunier says, as the band sits in their van, on tour, en route from Grand Rapids to Detroit. "These streaming services are literally the only option for a music career nowadays."

Deerhoof is in a unique position: the band formed in 1994, and it has released more than a dozen albums since. Their career began well over a decade before streaming became the norm. Deerhoof's members have generally proceeded on their own terms over the years, steadily putting out records and touring with support from indie labels like Joyful Noise, Polyvinyl, and Kill Rock Stars. But as collaborators in a DIY-minded group who tours with young and underground acts, they've seen their friends struggle in this new environment, and they've experienced first-hand how streaming services generally make it harder for musicians to navigate their world with a sense of agency.

"It is compulsory in our system, with the absolute commodification of everything, that [artists] become their own brand," Saunier says. "The musician is more and more similar to the Instagram Star in that sense. Or a gambler. Someone who just creates something from their imagination, from their time and energy and hard work, and money . . . and then just, posts it, basically, and hopes for the best.

I want to believe that it's not too late to beat the billionaires and the bots.

"And so, if some absolutely infamous Sweatshop-Owning Shoe Company decides to include you in their playlist to make them look hip, are you going to complain? No. What a joke . . . And if Nike is the one putting the song on their playlist, then well, your lips are now touching their Nike shoes. Because that's your ticket to something other than absolute oblivion."

But who's to blame? Saunier recognizes the tough spot so many artists and labels are in, where they're unable to outwardly criticize their corporate overlords without risking total irrelevance. "The people I would blame the most are the greedy chauvinists in charge of companies like Spotify and [those] who own Google," he goes on:

These are the companies that have presented themselves as hip, huge, harmless . . . In fact, they are ruthless and as hungry for profit . . . They're shark-like. Just eat up everything, take all of the world's creations. Digitize them and offer them back to humanity either for free or for an incredibly low price. And don't pay, or massively underpay the creators, and just kick back and put your feet up, and know that if Greg from Deerhoof doesn't like it, well that's fine, because there are a million other people lined up behind Greg who are perfectly happy to volunteer their music to exactly such a scheme in hopes of doing something besides being a barista their whole life.

Label Fate

The consequences of such an unfair system are only now revealing themselves. Much of the business and music presses credit Spotify with contributing to the first increases in recorded music revenue in years, which data proves is factually true. But more gross revenue in the music industry does not in any way translate to an industry that is healthier or more sustainable for the majority of artists. Unsurprisingly, as the platform has grown, it has emerged as yet another variation on there's-an-app-for-that thinking, a rationale that aims to benefit a wealthy cadre of pop stars, major labels, and tech workers-all while exploiting the labor of most everyone else. Spotify's "pro-rata" payment model, for example, means artists are paid a percentage of the total pool of royalties relative to how their stream count stacks up in the entire pool of streams, meaning the tiniest of payouts for most independent musicians.

Spotify's relationships with major and independent labels are vastly different. Still, in the wake of the platform's expansion, all labels are reimagining their workflows. The major labels employ dedicated Spotify liaisons, who interface with Spotify's own dedicated major label liaisons and have weekly chats with the company about upcoming priorities. (They generally scratch each other's backs in a way that recalls the longstanding quid pro quo between major labels and commercial radio.) Meanwhile, independent labels delegate new streaming strategies to their digital marketing employees, who play the platform's games and study data pulled from their APIs, fingers crossed, shouting into the void, hoping to get noticed for a precious playlist spot for one track off their latest release-their only hope on a platform that doesn't care if they exist.

No matter how you look at it, it's clear that Spotify is trying to replace labels. That's a sentiment echoed by folks across the industry, major and indie alike, but it's a reality felt most harshly by independent labels. The algorithmic nature of the platform makes it difficult to navigate, says one independent label employee. In the past, if a music shop ordered copies of a record, independent labels could do simple things-like send thank-you notes. "Since Spotify is so algorithmically based, there isn't a lot of back and forth conversation between you and anyone there," she explains. "It changes the nature of how you sell and pitch music to retailers, and the places where you're making money. You'll say, 'Oh, I noticed this one song got on this big playlist, is there someone in indie genre editorial who is a big fan who I could say thanks to?' And they're like, 'No, it did well on this playlist, so we added it to this playlist, and it did well on this playlist, and this playlist . . .'" Thanks, algorithm! "How they place things seems to really take away a lot of the personal aspects of how music transacts," she adds.

Spotify's ambition to superannuate labels is evident. In its quest for total power and control, Spotify has prioritized its own content, and it has made it notably more difficult to find albums rather than playlists. Search an artist's name, and you'll more quickly find a Spotify-branded compilation of that musician's work than an album. If it isn't clear by now, Spotify wants playlists to be the most influential feature of the platform, an "innovation" the platform claims is driven by consumer habits but is obviously motivated by the company's own branding interests, as well as their swelling need to provide evidence that will prove its worth as a platform to investors. But if this doesn't convince you, take heed: Spotify is even starting to creep into the game of pressing vinyl, partnering with the popular subscription service Vinyl Me Please to press their "Spotify Singles" onto 7-inches. "Spotify and vinyl, now living together in harmony," reads the Vinyl Me Please website. If Amazon is the "everything store," just think of Spotify as the "everything music service."

Best New Muzak

Once upon a time, record labels would invest in artist's careers. Now Spotify invests in its own original content. Earlier this year the company poured significant resources into promoting "I'm with the Banned," a playlist and video series prominently featured as a response to the Trump administration's travel ban (tagline: "When people can't travel, music will"). Like other social-justice-oriented playlists-"Feminist Friday," the "Pride" playlists series, and "No Moment For Silence," created in support of DACA-these editorial additions are Spotify's way of cynically deploying woke optics and commodified "activism." Unsurprisingly, "I'm With the Banned" was promoted with a media campaign, subway advertisements, and sponsored content on Pitchfork.

This is not the first editorial partnership between Spotify and Pitchfork. Earlier this year, Pitchfork won the Webby Award for "Best Branded Editorial Experience," a prize it received for its series "Inside Discovery"-a collaboration with Spotify meant to boost awareness of the "Discover Weekly" feature. The series shows Pitchfork editors (and favored musicians) gushing about their love of streaming-the immediacy! The deep back catalogs! One editor says it helps him keep track of his listening habits, while another rejoices at not having to dig through crates at record shops anymore. Yet another likens Spotify to walking around a music festival, discovering something new at every turn.

What does it mean for "the most trusted voice in music" to celebrate an algorithm as preferable to its own crate digging? What does it mean when the tastemaking humans endorse data-driven machines? What does it mean when the algorithms become cool? 8.4 Best New Algorithm!

The music press's embrace of Spotify becomes more startling as the platform's totalizing ambitions materialize. Virtually every music publication now relies on Spotify media players to embed songs within online articles, and websites like Pitchfork and Rolling Stone regularly celebrate their playlists with listicles: "Ten Albums To Stream Now." "The Five Playlists You Need to Hear This Summer." A subscription to the New York Times can now come with a Spotify membership; a splash page cross-branding the two platforms hilariously pairs Times sections and Spotify artists: Opinion with "Guided by Voices," Style with "Perfume Genius," Arts with "Devo," and so on. One wonders if these artists are even aware they're being used to sell the paper of record.

Music writing serves a number of purposes: storytelling, criticism, discovery. Spotify has already established itself as a competitive force of "discovery," and it soon plans to produce more of its own (surely branded) "storytelling" and original content. With this in mind, and when I worry over the publications, labels, and artists who have (reluctantly or otherwise) embraced Spotify, I can't help but think of that airport restaurant server who teaches you how to use the iPad, thereby contributing to her own obsolescence. Why is the music press generating value for a platform that in every way plans to eliminate it? And what will become of music criticism in a world without records? Will publications review discovery feeds and write profiles of playlists? What good will criticism be when all of music has coalesced into algorithmically preordained Muzak?

I want to believe that it's not too late to beat the billionaires and the bots. But earlier this year Spotify signed a lease for fourteen floors at Four World Trade Center. The company's gone on a hiring spree, with plans to add a thousand employees. The new lease costs $2.77 million in monthly rent. And it lasts until 2034.

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"Anything you want. Anyone you want. Anywhere you want. Anyway! Anyway!" -Priests, "Pink White House" (2017) Imagine you are in an airport, and you have forgotten to eat lunch. It's a mistake you will pay for with a dull, expensive dinner.

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Did The Internet End Cultural Elitism? New Study Shows Snobbery Is Alive And Well

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Did The Internet End Cultural Elitism? New Study Shows Snobbery Is Alive And Well

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When I inherited my first car -- a beloved hand-me-down -- I was ecstatic. It was a smallish SUV that grumbled and shook like Anakin Skywalker's dinky pod racer. But I was giddy at the thought of driving it around, and burned a handful of mix CDs for my long trek to and from school. Stalwarts included Sufjan Stevens and The Shins; blacklisted were "boring" classical tracks and the worst offender of all, country western crooning.

My 17-year-old self saw these choices as carefully selected identity markers. However, according to a recent study rooted in over 50 years of sociological research, taste -- especially taste in music -- is directly correlated with class.

University of British Columbia professor Gerry Veenstra surveyed a range of participants about their musical preferences, and found that likes and dislikes, from opera to reggae, are linked with wealth and education.

These findings seem at odds with the current narrative that the Internet has been a democratizing cultural force, or that it's now widely considered snooty, if not uninformed, to shun top-40 tracks. Music reviews like those on Pitchfork are fairly non-discriminate in terms of genre -- you're as likely to find pieces on jazz as you are hip-hop. But is this diversity the result of a genuine expansion of interests? And, if so, has taste finally been divorced from class? The answer, like Spotify's discoverability algorithm, is complicated.

Experts have long posited theories that cultural interests are predetermined by your lot in life, beginning with Thorstein Veblen's The Theory of the Leisure Class and reaching a peak with French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu's 1979 study, "Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste." Nothing, according to Bourdieu, "is more classifying than music."

It's not quite as prescriptive as it sounds, though. "Classifying," to Bourdieu, doesn't just mean sorting people into economic groups of varying value. Instead, he says taste can be attributed to different "fields," which are then determined by intersecting "capitals," "lifestyles," and "habitus." Essentially, engineers in France in the mid 20th century might've preferred Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" and other such "accessible" tunes. Meanwhile, in the '80s in America, this theory would illuminate a correlation between the wealthy and a predilection for jazz; middle-class and subversive rock; lower class and heavy metal.

This would at least begin to explain why, as a teenager, I wrinkled my nose up at most of the alternatives to my narrow range of interests. At the time I lamented the low ratio of miles I traveled to the number of country music stations available in Dallas -- a notably sprawling city. What I disliked about Tim McGraw et al. was that they seemed indistinguishable from each other, using lyrics like Mad Libs filled in with "dog," "horse," "gal," and other such terms plucked from halcyon times. In retrospect, this bare revelation of the singers' emotions, untouched by metaphor or individual anecdote, was dull to me. Music should make you think and feel in nuanced ways, not zone out or partake in a watered down, collective pleasure -- or so I firmly believed. I'd have taken pride in how my favorite bands ranked on a 2009 chart analyzing and comparing SAT scores with musical tastes listed on Facebook.

Bourdieu would've slapped me with a petite bourgeoisie label in a second.

I was, in a word, priggish. But, I was a teenager, and like others my age, crafted lists or collages of beloved albums and novels, hoping they could stand in for a fully formed identity. "Anything but country," I'd assert when asked what kind of music I preferred, as so many self-proclaiming "alternative" high school students would say. When I shared this observation with classmates, their responses varied. Those with similarly ramshackle modes of transportation, like my art school neighbor who saved up for a super-cheap VW van, agreed; he, for example, preferred lo-fi instrumentals and decidedly bad singers. Meanwhile, the cheer squad girls with pristine BMWs were almost invariably Pat Green concert attendees. Bourdieu's theory was at play here, in my pre-Internet exploration days of musical discovery; punk and indie listeners and their counter-culture identities bear resemblances to his new petite bourgeoisie and their opposition to the social status quo.

But, when I was in college, and around the time we collectively graduated from Limewire and other Napster-like programs to alternatives that focused on random discovery, my musical interests shifted. Thanks to algorithm-based streaming services, I was able to see the similarities between my love for Rilo Kiley and the country music I'd long shunned. I was finally able to see the beauty of intertwining genres, and, later, the venerability of artists remaining devoted to a more straightforward sound in an age when overlapping and newness is valued. Thanks to the freedoms and information provided by the Internet, I now have varied interests that you could collectively call my "taste." My perception of my former habits is that they were embarrassingly closed-minded.

By Bourdieu's logic, this shouldn't be the case. With my middle class upbringing, my listening habits should be restricted to the "Carrie & Lowell" Pandora station. And while his impressive research made sense as recently as a few decades ago, I'm not the only one whose musical awakening runs counter to his findings today.

A slew of academics have cropped up in the past two decades opposing Bourdieu's theory, and presenting an alternative: that "high-brow" is a dwindling label, and that a new marker of social status is the possession of a medley of interests, rather than a few, cherry-picked ones. Now that the whole world is available at the click of a mouse, possessing a breadth of knowledge is representative of ample leisure time. In short: it's more socially valuable to like jazz and hip-hop, rather than one or the other, or neither.

This theory is called "cultural omnivorism," and while compelling, Gerry Veenstra's new study claims it's bogus. Its findings imply that the Internet, and globalization, have actually done little in the way of influencing the link between status and artistic interests. That "high culture" is alive and well, and that openness to new genres among cultural mavens -- the grown-up 17-year-old elitists -- isn't changing for the better. Though participants claimed to have "eclectic" music tastes, these self-categorizations proved in this case to be just that -- self-categorizations.

The study concluded by proclaiming "the odds of disliking classical music was more than eight times as high for the least educated respondents as for the best educated ones." But, because Veenstra's respondents are a select sample size of Vancouver residents -- not all of them young -- it's necessary to consider other factors. Doctor Randolph Lewis, an American Studies professor at the University of Texas, offers a different vantage point.

Among Millennials, he's witnessed overlapping and cornucopian tastes that never existed before. "It seems that musical tastes have become far more eclectic among young people who grew up digital," he told The Huffington Post. "Back in the 1980s, the metal fans were often working class, just as the classical and jazz fans skewed upward as you might expect. Nowadays, it's harder to pigeonhole someone by their musical tastes."

But, he adds, that doesn't mean class lines aren't drawn in ways other than genre. Lewis cites music volume and quality of devices as class dividers, but it can be even subtler than that.

"Are your song selections eclectic in a manner that seems coolly ironic and knowing or problematically uncool?" he said. "Even if regular folks can access 'elite' musical forms on the Internet in a new way, Americans can never hide their class identity as much as they would hope."

Still, I'm hopeful that things are slowly shifting, if not only based on an ethnographic study of... well, myself. Last weekend, I went back to Texas for a friend's wedding. Said friend and I have always been drawn to each other for our differences. So, although we were close, I was unprepared for the amount of two-stepping and Garth Brooks crooning involved, and mostly sat at my assigned place setting feeling embarrassingly uninformed and uncultured. I felt mostly like a snooty killjoy for not expanding my tastes to include those of others, but also like a person who should've studied up more on the genre -- or at least dance along, even without knowing the words.

For me -- and I think for others -- Bourdieu's theory stopped making sense around the same time my rumbly SUV stopped jump-starting, and trips to the record store became impossible -- and unnecessary. With free, unlimited access to an ocean of genres, I've dipped my toes in most of them, and have enjoyed quite a few. And, at the next country western wedding I attend, I assure you I'll be on the dance floor.

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What Does Your Musical Taste Really Say About You?

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When I inherited my first car -- a beloved hand-me-down -- I was ecstatic. It was a smallish SUV that grumbled and shook like Anakin Skywalker's dinky pod racer. But I was giddy at the thought of driving it around, and burned a handful of mix CDs for my long trek to and from school.

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Is Spotify narrowing our taste in music?

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Is Spotify narrowing our taste in music?

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"The top 10 percent of songs on Spotify make up 99.2 percent of all streams"

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With its easy-to-access content and vast selection of ready-made playlists, Spotify has amassed more than 100 million users globally since its inception in 2006. But according to writer Liz Pelly (The Guardian, Rolling Stone, Pitchfork) it's narrowing the range of music we listen to.

The top 10 percent of songs on Spotify make up 99.2 percent of all streams and Pelly says that's largely because of the influence the major labels - Universal, Sony and Warner - have over the music streaming service.

Pelly says the labels are influencing Spotify playlists in much the same way they've been influencing commercial radio since the bad old days of payola, where such companies paid to have their songs played.

It's within Spotify's curated playlists that the problem begins. These mood and genre-based playlists are compiled by Spotify staffers, and clearly favour artists on major labels.

But why?

It's a question of resource.

The majors have huge marketing departments. They can afford to employ staff dedicated to working with Spotify, which in turn has staff dedicated to working with them.

"They have weekly phone calls and meetings and charts that get sent over," says Pelly.

Meanwhile, independent labels are largely ignored.

"From speaking with independent artists and folks who work for independent labels, I've learned that it's very challenging for them."

Once the majors get their artists onto the curated playlists, a kind of 'echo-chamber' effect begins: if a song is included in one of Spotify's curated playlists it's much more likely to appear in its algorithmic ones (users' 'Discover weekly' and 'Daily Mix' playlists), which in turn garners more streams and again boosts its chances of being included in further playlists.

This situation isn't just affecting music fans: independent labels and their artists are seeing profits diminish, despite the fact Spotify has been partly credited with the first increases in recorded music revenue in years.

Pelly says, "Just because the gross profit is increasing doesn't mean that it's more sustainable for the majority of artists or that most artists are seeing that.

"People need to divorce the idea that buying a Spotify account is directly contributing to the artists they want to support ... It's something that works for pop stars and not independent artists.

"When they talk about gross profit in industry increasing, it's important to think about who's seeing those profits and who's not."

Read Liz Pelly's original piece for The Baffler here, or listen to her full interview with Music 101's Melody Thomas below.

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Is Spotify narrowing our taste in music?

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With its easy-to-access content and vast selection of ready-made playlists, Spotify has amassed more than 100 million users globally since its inception in 2006. But according to writer Liz Pelly (The Guardian, Rolling Stone, Pitchfork) it's narrowing the range of music we listen to.

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Smart Speakers Will Drive Music Consumption, Industry Growth says New Report

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Smart Speakers Will Drive Music Consumption, Industry Growth says New Report

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[UPDATED] A new report authored by Music Ally's Stuart Dredge for label trade BPI and the Entertainment Retailers Association [ERA] looks at how voice-controlled smart speakers are transforming how fans engage with music.

The new report, "Everybody's Talkin' - Smart Speakers and their impact on music consumption"looks at how this new technology is driving the next wave of music consumption, fuelling further growth in streaming and subscriptions while also establishing a new e-commerce platform for sales of physical product.

48% of smart speaker owners have premium music subscriptions and that number is expected to grow. That's bad news for broadcast radio, as 39% of smart speaker owners say time listening to the device i s replacing time spent listening to AM/FM.

"Smart speakers are poised to kick-start the next stage of the music streaming revolution, attracting more casual listeners into subscription services drawn by music as the "killer app" for these devices,' said Geoff Taylor, Chief Executive BPI & BRIT Awards. "This exciting new technology will not only transform how we engage with music, encouraging more shared listening, but also how we discover it. The challenge and opportunity for labels and artists will be to ensure their music is as easily available and as effectively marketed via AI voice assistants as it has been through the screen interface."

Key Report Findings For Music

Music is the most popular use for smart speakers, with users listening to more audio than they did before purchasing one of these devices.

One study found that 34% of Echo and Home owners spend more than four hours a day listening to music, compared to 24% of the general population.

48% of smart speaker owners have a premium subscription to a music-streaming service.

39% of smart speaker owners say time listening to the device is replacing time spent listening to AM/FM stations - encouraging a shift away from traditional radio.

Smart speakers may fuel more casual interaction with music - with generic requests to play music creating greater dependence on the personalisation algorithms of speakers' assistants .
While writing this, I tested "play music" on my Alexa powered Sonos One and (inexplicably) got treated to a 50 Great Guitar solos playlist on Amazon Music. The result was a bit more pleasing when I asked Alexa to play "Americana music"

Labels must now create metadata around genre, mood and user activities.

Smartphones have apps, and smart speakers have 'skills' or 'actions' - applications created for use by listeners. There's an opportunity here for labels to launch skills for their artists.

Platforms such as Spotify want smart speakers to be gateways to listeners, not gatekeepers.

Smart speakers are taking music streaming into a new world of shared listening, away from individual consumption, with multiple-user interaction.

More Key Report Findings

Smart Speaker history & guide to devices:

Amazon's Echo with its Alexa assistant was the first to launch in late 2014, but it has since been joined by Google Home (with Google Assistant) and Apple's HomePod (with Siri).

Sonos, and others have also launched smart speakers, while consumer-electronics firms like Sony, LG and Panasonic have used Google Assistant as their devices' brains.

Spotify and Facebook are both rumoured to be exploring this area.

Analysts' estimates suggest 24m - 27m smart speakers were sold globally in 2017.

The US & UK accounted for up to 95% of those sales, with the US taking the lion's share.

Futuresource estimates that 7% of UK households now own at least one smart speaker - with 2.8m devices shipped in 2017 (three-quarters of which were Amazon Echos)

Between 39m - 47m Americans now have a smart speaker in their home, with Amazon's Echo range thought to have around two thirds of those devices.

Analyst global predictions for 2018 are bullish - forecasting up to 58m unit sales.

55% of US households will own a smart speaker by 2022 (175m units in 70m homes).

What's Next For Smart Speakers?

Smart speakers will drive subscriptions growth as household penetration increases and consumers find it increasingly easy and convenient to sign up.

Recent research finds that 28% of smart speaker owners say the device has caused them to pay for a music subscription service.

Smart speakers can make music ubiquitous - making music even more accessible and central to people's lives as the devices proliferate in the home and in cars.

The emergence of programmed playlists on streaming services is making 'context' a hot topic - such as music to work-out to, cook to, etc.

This is creating the opportunity to convert radio listeners into paying music subscribers.

Price remains a factor, and there are likely to be more experiments around how subscriptions are marketed to and priced for smart speaker owners.

Pureplay streaming services fear that smart speaker operators may become gatekeepers rather than gateways to music consumers.

Smart speakers could help drive sales of physical music - where a fan likes music they hear, then can just as easily use devices to order a physical copy of a recording, particularly on LP.

Smart speakers can also enable increased purchasing of concert and festival tickets - to potentially support growth in live music alongside the recorded sector.

As smart speakers learn the tastes and behaviours of their users, they may be able to suggest and recommend products and services for purchase.

Smart speakers pose metadata and marketing challenges - if you make a generalised request, where will the algorithm that powers the search take you? If you ask for a concerto, which recording out of the dozens or more that may exist will it transport you to?

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Smart Speakers Will Drive Music Consumption, Industry Growth says New Report

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UPDATED] A new report authored by Music Ally's Stuart Dredge for label trade BPI and the Entertainment Retailers Association [ERA] looks at how voice-controlled smart speakers are transforming how fans engage with music. ____________________________________________ The new report, "Everybody's Talkin' - Smart Speakers and their impact on music consumption" looks at...

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"Vinyl had a renaissance at retail by experiencing sales growth for the 12th consecutive year, comprising 14% of all physical album sales."

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The surge in music streaming continued throughout 2017. Overall consumption of albums, songs and audio on-demand streaming grew 12.5% year over year. A 59% increase in on-demand audio streams offset track and album sales declines.

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Each of us streamed 1,036 songs last year (and most of them were by Ed Sheeran)

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Each of us streamed 1,036 songs last year (and most of them were by Ed Sheeran)

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UK music fans streamed more music than ever before in 2017 - an astonishing total of 68.1 billion songs.

That's the equivalent of everyone in the country playing 1,036 tracks, or almost three continuous days of music, on sites like Apple Music and Spotify.

A huge proportion of those streams were of Ed Sheeran - who had four of the Top 10 biggest singles of the year.

Trade body the BPI says streaming now accounts for more than half (50.4%) of all music consumption in the UK.

The figure is up from 36.4% last year - with a record 1.5 billion streams served in one week last December.

To put that in context, we are now streaming more songs in a single week than we did in the first six months of 2012.

If anything, though, the BPI is actually underplaying the success of streaming, as it relies on data from the Official Charts Company, which does not currently count music played on YouTube towards its figures.

It has been estimated that if YouTube was included, the number of streams accessed by music fans in the UK would double.

Overall, sales of music generated £1.2 billion for the UK economy last year, according to the Entertainment Retailers Association.

In total, 135.1 million albums were sold last year, (including 68 million "streaming equivalent albums" - where 1,000 streams counts as one "sale"), an increase of 9.5%.

Vinyl continued to grow in popularity, with 4.1 million LPs purchased in 2017.

Again, Ed Sheeran was the most popular artist on the format - closely followed by Liam Gallagher and Amy Winehouse's Back To Black, which featured in the top five vinyl albums for the third year in a row.

CD sales down

However, vinyl only accounts for 3% of the overall music market, and its success is in stark contrast to the decline in CDs and downloads.

CD sales, which peaked at 162.4 million in 2004, now languish at 41.6 million.

Digital downloads are also on the way out, with just 13.8 million albums bought on stores like iTunes and Amazon last year, a drop of 23%.

Overall, music consumption was up by 8.7% - the fastest rise since 1998.

Sales and streams contributed £1.2 billion to the UK economy, according to the Entertainment Retailers Association (ERA).

Apart from Sheeran, the UK's biggest artists included Rag N Bone Man, whose album Human shifted more than 885,000 copies by the end of the year.

Little Mix's Glory Days continued to sell well, while Pink and Drake were the best-selling international artists.

It was also a better year for new artists after a dismal 2016, where only one British debut album (Bradley Walsh's Chasing Dreams) went gold.

2017 saw the likes of Dua Lipa, Stormzy, Harry Styles and J Hus achieve the 100,000 sales milestone.

Overall, the entertainment industry enjoyed a bumper year in 2017, with sales of video games, films, TV programmes, and music all recording growth for the fifth consecutive year.

Disney had the two biggest-selling film titles of the year - with the live action remake of Beauty And The Beast and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story collectively selling more than 2.9 million copies, according to the British Association for Screen Entertainment.

DVDs and Blu-Rays both saw a double-digit decline in sales, but revenues from streaming services like Netflix and Amazon grew by 22.2%, and now account for more than 70% of the video market.

According to ERA, the entertainment market as a whole reached a "new all-time-high", generating £7.24 billion last year.

CEO Kim Bayley called it "an historic result" driven by new technology and innovation.

"New digital services are bringing ever increasing numbers of the UK population back to entertainment with 24/7 access to the music, video and games they want," she said.
Follow us on Facebook, on Twitter @BBCNewsEnts, or on Instagram at bbcnewsents. If you have a story suggestion email entertainment.news@bbc.co.uk .

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UK music fans streamed more music than ever before in 2017 - an astonishing total of 68.1 billion songs. That's the equivalent of everyone in the country playing 1,036 tracks, or almost three continuous days of music, on sites like Apple Music and Spotify.

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Spotify is making you boring: When algorithms shape music taste, human curiosity loses

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Spotify is making you boring: When algorithms shape music taste, human curiosity loses

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Spotify is making you boring: When algorithms shape music taste, human curiosity loses

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With all the songs at our fingertips, we're exposed to very few, thanks to how digital recommendations work

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Changing Their Tune: How Consumers' Adoption of Online Streaming Affects MusicConsumption and Discovery

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Changing Their Tune: How Consumers' Adoption of Online Streaming Affects MusicConsumption and Discovery

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Hannes Datta George Knox Bart J. Bronnenberg

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Is the internet actually benefiting the music industry?

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Is the internet actually benefiting the music industry?

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It's 6pm on a cool January evening in Bethnal Green, east London. On the top floor of a nondescript building, a group of young, mostly male, music producers mill around, playing pool and throwing darts. A lot of them have never met before but interact with familiarity, comfortable because they know each other from time spent online, on platforms like Soundcloud and Twitter.

Invitations arrive via friends of friends or word of mouth. All of them are here at Boiler Room, which bills itself as "music tv for the internet age", for the monthly show, 'Crowdsourced'. Musicians around the world send in their musical bric-a-brac - submissions range from vocal arias to objects falling down stairs or being microwaved - which are chopped up, sampled and twisted in a live-stream with an up-and-coming producer.

This month's maestro is Oshi, a producer from north London who moved to LA at just 17-years-old, and will later this month release a track with American producer Baauer, of "Harlem Shake" fame. After an hour, the audience files into a studio with a huge green screen, where they sprawl on couches and beanbags while a few Boiler Room staff iron out the technicalities of live streaming.

Over the next few hours, Oshi and mischievous MC Wize, a rapper and figure on the London music scene in his own right, browse through the submissions - some of the sounds they use have been sent by people in the room, much to their collective delight - and fire jokes back and forth. By the end of the session, two distinct clips have been produced, which the crowd back home are handed the responsibility of naming.

There's no doubt that for some of the people in the room, and even those watching at home, this is one of the first opportunities they've had to see what their work can lead to: thousands of listens, a shout-out from one of their favourite producers, a room full of nodding heads. A show like this - where people around the world, without a record label or formal musical training, can send in their oddities and have them used in real time, for countless others to see - might have been impossible twenty years ago. But the internet's integral role in music education, production and dissemination has allowed new kinds of collaboration to disseminate. The only question is, at what cost?

Technological advances, in particular streaming, have helped create a musical landscape that is porous and fractured. On one hand, there's an overwhelming narrative that portrays the intersection of the internet and the music industry as a positive development. Fundamentally, consumers and audiophiles have been able to broaden their musical horizons with relatively little effort, through easy access to vast archives and libraries, and, as has increasingly become the norm, automatically generated, tailored playlists.

For those who were perhaps more creatively minded, covers of pop songs and old classics have spawned a generation of YouTube stars who are now household names. Those who would once have been unable to afford formal training, or obtain the backing of a big label, have been aided by the paint-by-numbers tutorials and explainers that have sprung up across the site. Access to the internet (and, arguably, a level of talent and dedication) has chipped away at some of the barriers that might have once made the music industry inaccessible.

But the internet alone does not the next Justin Bieber make. Digital service providers like Spotify, YouTube and Soundcloud have widened access to music in an unprecedented way, yet their rise has been controversial. There has been a sense among many musicians, as well as those working at or involved with the platforms they usually provide for, that the intersection of music and technology might not be the halcyon dynamic it is sometimes portrayed as.

Take music behemoth Spotify. When news of Spotify's unusual IPO (only existing shareholders can sell to public shareholders, and investors can "cash out" whenever they want) broke, it became evident that the streaming service has an uphill battle to fight, with pending lawsuits, wafer thin profit margins and growing discontent from independent artists.

While Spotify has more paying subscribers than any other streaming service, its model - persuading companies and record labels for unlimited streams of their music, essentially for pennies - has run into issues of profitability already. Competitors like YouTube and Apple Music have far more all-encompassing musical empires to cushion any possible pitfalls. Moreover, within the music industry, artists like Thom Yorke of Radiohead fame have continually raised complaints about the minimal amount that artists make because of how Spotify calculates royalties.

Craig 'Comrade' Massie, the crowdsourced "guru" at Boiler Room, points out that all of these developments - tutorials, easy access to archives - are a double-edged sword. "While the cost of access has decreased dramatically for the tools to create and market your own work, it also drastically devalues the resulting music to the point that it almost cancels out any chances there might have been to allow more people to use it as a profession."

That conundrum - breaking in might technically be easier, but standing out has skyrocketed in difficulty - is really at the heart of these complicated debates. Does that mean that the internet's central role in music production and streaming - dispersive, at once impersonal and personal - will dilute experimental music? Not necessarily.

There are few places that showcase this interplay between technology and music as well as Boiler Room, which has achieved widespread global success since its inception in 2010. It champions up and coming musicians and established talent, from Yaeji to Young Marco, spanning a huge range of genres, often recorded and uploaded for free onto its YouTube channel.

There is a clear contrast between the likes of dominant player Spotify which is purely a streaming service, and the parties, festival stages and collaborations organised by Boiler Room.

And despite its growth (their YouTube channel has 1.5 million subscribers, and videos easily rack up thousands of views), marketing executive Osho Frankland explains that Boiler Room's focus on authenticity means that it could never turn into the kind of service Spotify has become.

"We're not ever going to really be like Spotify because there's no algorithm that tells us which artist is next to book. That's not the point of Boiler Room - it's underground, and it happens organically," he explains. "Part of our ethos, it's called levelling. So, physically, all Boiler Room sets - like Princess Nokia in London - are on the ground, the audience is on the same level as the DJ. But it's also about giving a platform to some artists that don't get played out, and giving them as much attention as the big names."

Some of Boiler Room's initiatives are antithetical to how big corporations like Spotify operate; like 'Low Heat' where local musicians and promoters are invited to bring friends, booze and play some music, courtesy of BR. Another example is 'Communities', where staff work with promoters and musicians around the world - in countries including Turkey, and Brazil - to publicise local talent and organise club nights in underground scenes that BR draws artists from.

Yet Boiler Room, and similar community-focused organisations like Radar Radio or NTS, is taking advantage of the same capabilities that have allowed Spotify and its ilk to grow. They emphasise the importance of using platforms to broadcast local talent and encourage experimental music making, as opposed to what will just do well at the moment. The internet is arguably vital to their work. It's been a platform for local talent to be discovered by people who might not have come to their shows, and at least initially, it can encourage musical communities to build up, give young musicians and producers a chance to experiment with the support of their friends in low-stakes environments.

In another sense, past the distributional opportunities that the internet can offer, how these websites fundamentally work - in a word, algorithms - has had unexpected effects in some corners of the music industry. Spotify's playlists have recently come under fire because of their focus on, for lack of a better word, vibes (Spotify's SEC filing highlighted that playlist streams account for a third of all music streamed on the platform). As Liz Pelly points out at Baffler Mag, Spotify's algorithmically generated playlists provide a valuable jumping off point for up-and-coming artists to make it in the industry, giving them thousands of new followers and broadcasting their music to a wider audience. But by offering a route in, is Spotify guiding new artists down a narrow path to bland output? Industry insiders and musicians have highlighted that the secret to getting on these playlists and getting exposure is to make vanilla music; broadly palatable and appealing to a large number of people, avoiding anything particularly experimental or daring.

Algorithms - feeding off endless streams of musical data online - are also influencing the kind of music that people end up listening to, on a collective level. Thump, VICE's dance music arm, recently surmised that YouTube's algorithm, derided for its formulaic approach to music recommendation, played a vital role in proliferating the dissemination of a sub-genre of house music colloquially referred to as lo-fi house (bass heavy, run through filters to create a hazy, rhythmic feeling).

That sound has continued to permeate club nights and those three hour long playlists that YouTube and Spotify have capitalised on, blandly titled along the lines of "chill study beats 4 - lofi / jazz (5 HOURS!)". Pioneers of the sound, like London-based trio Ross from Friends, or DJ Seinfeld (full disclosure: two of this author's favourites) have embarked on international tours, both in their own right, and as support acts.

Like most debates about the internet's impact, on everything from dating to shopping to renting a car, it's difficult to disentangle the good from the bad. Problems begat by the internet are difficult to solve without using, you know, the internet, even if they seek to take radical new paths. While platforms like RESONATE or OPUS - two artist-owned cooperatives that double as music streaming services - have started to spring up, a cursory glance at sites like Spotify or Soundcloud demonstrate that most musicians, established or not, still have their content available on those platforms, perhaps because there simply are very few other places to go without running afoul of copyright law.

Concrete ways to really resist those organisations remain few and far between. Musicians, and the people who support them, are aware that the difficulties posed by these developments are unlikely to disappear soon. At the moment, it's difficult to say that the frustrations of many artists, especially independent musicians, will actually be addressed going forward.

Spotify have released numerous statements re-iterating their support for independent music, and emphasised the creative control that they want to give artists. YouTube continues to court controversy outside of just its streaming practices. As the costs of making, producing and listening to music increase, the dynamic between internet and industry will continue to warp and twist, perhaps eventually into unfamiliar, irreversible forms.

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Is the internet actually benefiting the music industry?

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It's 6pm on a cool January evening in Bethnal Green, east London. On the top floor of a nondescript building, a group of young, mostly male, music producers mill around, playing pool and throwing darts. A lot of them have never met before but interact with familiarity, comfortable because they know each other from time spent online, on platforms like Soundcloud and Twitter.

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In September 2007, 75 students walked into a classroom at Stanford. Ten weeks later, they had collectively amassed 16 million users, $1 million dollars in advertising revenue, and a formula that would captivate a generation.

The class-colloquially known as "The Facebook Class" -and its instructor, BJ Fogg, became Silicon Valley legends. Graduates went on to work and design products at Uber, Facebook, and Google. Some even started companies with their classmates. But a decade later, some of the class' teachings are in the crosshairs of our society-wide conversation about phone addiction.

Fogg's research group, the Persuasive Technology Lab, looks at how technology can persuade users to take certain actions. Early experiments centered around questions like, "How can you get people to stop smoking using SMS?" But when Facebook, then a three-year-old startup, opened its platform to third-party developers, Fogg saw a perfect opportunity to test some of his theories in the wild.

After a few lectures on the basics of behavioral psychology, students began building Facebook apps of their own. They used psychological tools like reciprocity and suggestion to engineer apps that could, for example, send your friends a virtual hug or get your friends to join an online game of dodgeball. At the time, Facebook had just begun promoting third-party apps in its news feed. The iPhone launched in the summer of 2007; the App Store would follow the year later. Fogg's teachings became a playbook on how to make apps stick just as apps were becoming a thing.

"Within the first month, there were already millions of people using these apps," says Dan Greenberg, a teaching assistant for the class who later went on to found the ad-tech platform Sharethrough with some of his classmates. After some students decided to monetize their apps with banner ads, apps like Greenberg's began bringing in as much as $100,000 a month in ad sales. Fogg had a secret sauce, and it was the ideal time to serve it.

In Silicon Valley, Fogg's Behavioral Model answers one of product designers' most enduring questions: How do you keep users coming back?

A decade ago, Fogg's lab was a toll both for entrepreneurs and product designers on their way to Facebook and Google. Nir Eyal, the bestselling author of the book, Hooked, sat in lectures next to Ed Baker, who would later become the Head of Growth at both Facebook and Uber. Kevin Systrom and Mike Krieger, the founders of Instagram, worked on projects alongside Tristan Harris, the former Google Design Ethicist who now leads the Time Well Spent movement. Together, in Fogg's lab, they studied and developed the techniques to make our apps and gadgets addictive.

Now, we are navigating the consequences. From Facebook's former president claiming that Silicon Valley's tools are "ripping apart the social fabric of society" to France formally banning smartphones in public schools, we are starting to reexamine the sometimes toxic relationships we have with our devices. Looking at the source of product designers' education may help us understand the downstream consequences of their creations-and the way to reverse it.

Engineering Addiction

BJ Fogg is an unlikely leader for a Silicon Valley movement. He's a trained psychologist and twice the age of the average entrepreneur with whom he works. His students describe him as energetic, quirky, and committed to using tech as a force for good: In the past, he's taught classes on making products to promote peace and using behavior design to connect with nature. But every class begins with his signature framework, Fogg's Behavior Model. It suggests that we act when three forces-motivation, trigger, and ability-converge.

In Silicon Valley, the model answers one of product designers' most enduring questions: How do you keep users coming back? Say you're a Facebook user, with the Facebook app on your phone. You're motivated to make sure photos of you posted online aren't ugly, you get triggered by a push notification from Facebook that you've been tagged, and your phone gives you the ability to check right away. You open the Facebook app.

Proponents of the model, like Eyal, believe that the framework can be extremely powerful. "If you understand people's internal triggers, you can try to satiate them," he says. "If you're feeling lonely, we can help you connect. If you're feeling bored, we can help entertain."

But critics say that companies like Facebook have taken advantage of these psychological principles to capture human attention. Especially in advertising-supported businesses, where more time spent in app equals more profit, designers can optimize for values that don't always align with their users' well-being.

Tristan Harris, one of the most vocal whistleblowers of tech's manipulative design practices (and a graduate of Fogg's lab), has grappled with this idea. In 2012, while working at Google, he created a 144-slide presentation called "A Call to Minimize Distraction & Respect Users' Attention." The deck, which outlined ways in which small design elements like push notifications can become massive distractions at scale, went viral within the company. Over 5,000 Googlers viewed the presentation, which Harris parlayed into a job as Google's first "design ethicist."

Harris left Google in 2015 to expand the conversation around persuasive design outside of Mountain View. "Never before has a handful of people working at a handful of tech companies been able to steer the thoughts and feelings of a billion people," he said in a recent talk at Stanford. "There are more users on Facebook than followers of Christianity. There are more people on YouTube than followers of Islam. I don't know a more urgent problem than this."

Harris has channeled his beliefs into his advocacy organization, Time Well Spent, which lobbies the tech industry to align with societal well-being. Three years later, his movement has begun to gain steam. Just look at Facebook, which recently restructured its news feed algorithm to prioritize the content that people find valuable (like posts from friends and family) over the stuff that people mindlessly consume (like viral videos). In a public Facebook post, Mark Zuckerberg wrote that one of Facebook's main priorities in 2018, "is making sure the time we all spend on Facebook is time well spent." Even, he said, if it's at the cost of how much time you spend on the platform.

Facebook's reckoning shows that companies can redesign their products to be less addictive-at the very least, they can try. Perhaps in studying the model that designers used to hook us to our phones, we can understand how those principles can be used to unhook us as well.

Finding the Cure

Fogg acknowledges that our society has become addicted to smartphones, but he believes consumers have the power to unhook themselves. "No one is forcing you to bring the phone into the bedroom and make it your alarm clock," he says. "What people need is the motivation."

Eyal's next book, Indistractible, focuses on how to do that, using Fogg's model in reverse. It takes the same three ideas-motivation, trigger, and ability-and reorients them toward ungluing us from our phones. For example, you can remove triggers from certain apps by adjusting your notification settings. (Or better yet, turn off all your push notifications.) You can decrease your ability to access Facebook by simply deleting the app from your phone.

"People have the power to put this stuff away and they always have," says Eyal. "But when we preach powerlessness, people believe that."

Others, like Harris and venture capitalist Roger McNamee, disagree. They believe corporations' interests are so intertwined with advertisers' demands that, until we change the system, companies will always find new ways to maximize consumers' time spent with their apps. "If you want to fix this as quickly as possible, the best way would be for founders of these companies to change their business model away from advertising," says McNamee, who was an early investor in Facebook and mentor to Zuckerberg. "We have to eliminate the economic incentive to create addiction in the first place."

There is merit to both arguments. The same methods that addict people to Snapchat might keep them learning new languages on Duolingo. The line between persuasion and coercion can be thin, but a blanket dismissal of behavior design misses the point. The larger discussion around our relationship with our gadgets comes back to aligning use with intent-for product designers and users.

Where We Go Next

Harris and McNamee believe manipulative design has to be addressed on a systems level. The two are advocating for government regulation of internet platforms like Facebook, in part as a public health issue. Companies like Apple have also seen pressure from investors to rethink how gadget addiction is affecting kids. But ultimately, business models are hard to change overnight. As long as advertising is the primary monetization strategy for the web, there will always be those who use persuasive design to keep users around longer.

So in the meantime, there are tangible steps we can all take to break the loop of addiction. Changing your notification settings or turning your phone to grayscale might seem like low-hanging fruit, but it's a place to start.

"It's going to take the companies way longer than it would take you to do something about it," says Eyal. "If you hold your breath and wait, you're going to suffocate."

Hooked On Technology

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Addicted to your Smartphone? This Formula is Why

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In September 2007, 75 students walked into a classroom at Stanford. Ten weeks later, they had collectively amassed 16 million users, $1 million dollars in advertising revenue, and a formula that would captivate a generation. The class-colloquially known as "The Facebook Class" -and its instructor, BJ Fogg, became Silicon Valley legends.

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My laptop webcam has been taped over since around 2015, when those gruesome stories started circulating about hacked webcams taking pics of unsuspecting victims and being used to find out where people lived. Now it seems we've found a different way to cope with this fear: memes.

The FBI agent meme recently popped up on Twitter, based on the premise that everyone is being individually monitored by a personally assigned FBI agent. One tweet from Shon Faye reads: "If I ever met the FBI man who watches me through my webcam the first thing I'd ask him is if I take a successful thirst trap quickly compared to the other people he's monitoring". @ joeykaywho wonders: "Does the FBI agent watching me through my webcam see me cry over Grey's Anatomy or does he cry with me".

There are thousands of tweets along these lines, most of them imagining an FBI agent observing us taking selfies, obsessively scrolling through our social media feeds, and binge-watching Netflix. It's funny because it's absurd. We know there isn't a man called Gerald watching us through our webcam, giving us dating advice or judging our Google searches. Still, there are deeper anxieties behind the FBI agent meme as well; in the U.S, threats to net neutrality (a principle that basically ensures all internet users have equal access to the internet regardless of what they're using it for) have compromised the sense many of us once had that the internet is a free, limitless space. The fight against the UK's 'Snooper's Charter', which gave the government mass digital surveillance powers - reading your texts, accessing your internet browsing history just because - continues. This sense of a loss of freedom is compounded by the increasing feeling that our every move is being observed by social media - whether that's on the 'Snap Map' or in the suspiciously accurate targeted ads you see on Facebook.

*sings Hollaback Girl in the shower*
Government agent spying on me: pic.twitter.com/KniegzPGgk
- Luke McCrea (@Lookleluke) January 13, 2018

HAHA I LOVE TALKING TO THE FBI MAN IN MY COMPUTER AND SAYING CLASSIC THINGS LIKE STOP WATCHING ME YOU FASCIST PIG
- NOT A WOLF (@SICKOFWOLVES) February 1, 2018

Vince Azada, 17, runs @VINCHY, one of the many popular Twitter accounts to get in on the FBI agent joke. On the topic of this meme, he says: "yeah - the government is spying on us so why not make the best out of it and make memes". Though concerned about government surveillance, he also had a fairly chill attitude to the prospect of his online activity being monitored, admitting: "the only thing they're gonna see from me is a whole lotta selfies being taken and some, uh, browser history".

This does seem to be the overwhelming feeling behind the FBI agent meme - even if there was someone watching your every intimate move through your phone or laptop, the prospect doesn't seem so far removed from a world where we already document most of our lives on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter. The FBI agent has appeared in tweets about a number of current events, including Kylie Jenner's birth announcement, about which @ artwbu wrote: "The FBI agent assigned to Kylie Jenner's computer has to be the most loyal person to ever walk the planet". There is a sense that this (not so) imaginary surveillance pervades every aspect of daily life, including pop culture and the lives of celebrities.

That being said, Executive Director of digital rights organisation Open Rights Group, Jim Killock says that, though we shouldn't read too much into memes, they can only provide a glimpse into the way a group of people feels at a very specific point in time. Killock asserts: "we should not be surprised that young people are poking fun at the dystopian elements of digital culture, whether that is the isolation that can exist alongside our hyper-connected world, or the banality of ubiquitous surveillance."

I don't have a sticker over my laptop camera because if Britney Spears taught me one thing from her pop masterpiece 'circus' it's that there's only 2 types of people in the world the ones who entertain and the ones that observe....AND I'm here to give the U.S. government A SHOW
- owen⚡️ (@xowenm) January 29, 2018

me posing for the government watching me through my webcam pic.twitter.com/FiRu89zYn9
- becky venus (@olverawill) November 6, 2017

The FBI agent meme is one in a long line of URL jokes about various current events and the ever-changing relationship young people have with their online presence. There might be an element of concern behind the FBI agent meme, but the very act of making memes is itself comforting and minimises the source of anxiety it began with.

Griff Ferris, legal researcher for Big Brother Watch, says that lovers of the FBI agent meme have a basis in real-life direct action against state surveillance: "There is power and awareness-raising to be achieved through humour, but more importantly, we need organisations like ours to keep bringing legal challenges to these authoritarian practices, and hold government to account."

The idea that this meme is raising awareness of a genuine threat has already become part of the meme narrative. @ uhh_elijah tweeted last week "an FBI agent probably started the FBI agent meme to gauge our reaction to being spied on and since we're all hella chill about it we'll prob actually be assigned FBI agents soon". The rise of the socially conscious meme is a good coping mechanism for young people trying to deal with the shitstorm that is politics and our rocky social climate in 2018. So have fun with it - keep memeing, keep protesting, and... maybe tape over your webcam.

hey fbi agent in my webcam can you send me an edible arrangement i'm having a pretty rough week
- ryan (@yeetztweetz) January 26, 2018

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What the FBI agent memes say about our generation's digital anxieties

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My laptop webcam has been taped over since around 2015, when those gruesome stories started circulating about hacked webcams taking pics of unsuspecting victims and being used to find out where people lived. Now it seems we've found a different way to cope with this fear: memes.

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A famous New Yorker cartoon from 1993 says: ' On the internet, nobody knows you're a dog.' The reference to the deeply democratising nature of the internet, and the ability to communicate with people around the world while still protecting your identity, isn't just a joke, though. For the disability community, the internet represents an opportunity to connect in a way that's functionally impossible in physical spaces.

Twitter, and social media at large, has become a valuable tool for online organising, with the rise of the hashtag marking a particularly important moment in cultural history. While social media has facilitated the connection of diverse communities and subcultures, and the rise of social movements, it's been particularly beneficial for the disability community. Disabled people use the internet in unique and distinctive ways, and with threats to net neutrality and internet access looming on the horizon, the future of disability organising could be facing a radical social shift.

Many disabled people live in extreme isolation, a situation actively cultivated by regressive social policy. Some are trapped in their homes because they can't afford mobility devices, because their illnesses make it challenging to leave the house, or because their communities are inaccessible, limiting the places they can go. Others live in isolated communities, or have rare impairments that make it unlikely they'll meet someone who shares their experience in person.

The internet has changed all this, creating webs of connection for disability communities that people were eager to take advantage of nearly as soon as the internet itself became widely available to the general public. Disabled people were among the most enthusiastic participants on early listservs, bulletin boards, and other modes of communication; they didn't need to leave their homes to engage, and they could connect with fellow disabled people globally.

While numerous factors have shaped the disability rights movement, and in-person activism has been a key component of the push for social change, the internet deserves its due; especially with barriers to participation falling. Personal computers are growing more accessible, in both a financial and technical sense, while the rise of smartphones make it much easier to participate in online disability activity. It's not foolproof - disabled people are less likely to use technology in the U.S. as their nondisabled counterparts - but it's a start.

In the United States, many nondisabled people only became aware of disability organising, and the disability rights movement, during the fight over health care. ADAPT activists descended upon Capitol Hill and district offices, cheerfully getting arrested to protect access to health care for all - and their work helped defeat a series of dangerous proposals that would have reshaped life in the U.S. for everyone, not just the disability community. But this wasn't ADAPT's first time at the rodeo, nor was it the disability rights movement's first foray into activism - including online.

While #ADAPTandResist may have captured attention, #CriptheVote, a hashtag developed by activist and organiser Alice Wong in collaboration with Gregg Beratan and Andrew Pulrang, had been lively throughout the 2016 election cycle. #CriptheVote continues to be widely used in discussions of politics and disability, alongside #CriptheVoteUK. Disabled people have taken to #disability with a vengeance, taking advantage of hashtags to push their message far and wide - and this includes not just political organising, but engagement with social issues as well. Keah Brown's #DisabledandCute turned heads when she introduced it by challenging social attitudes about disability, attractiveness, and how society perceives the disability community. #HospitalGlam, created by karolyn gehrig, engages the chronically ill community. Numerous others explore facets of disability identity, sexuality, and culture.

"Disabled people were among the most enthusiastic participants on early listservs, bulletin boards, and other modes of communication; they didn't need to leave their homes to engage, and they could connect with fellow disabled people globally"

It's critical to recognise the things that make online disability organising unique and distinctive, particularly in conversations about activism and internet access. For disabled people, being online isn't just a source of community and fellowship, but at times, a lifeline. No other group faces the distinctive collective cultural isolation the disability community faces, though all groups benefit from the ability to connect with their cohort online. And while disability rights activists are taking cues from other online organisers as they build communities and movements around hashtags, so too is their work being used as a grounding for other activist work. That creates opportunities for intercommunity collaboration and solidarity, and a unique shift in how activist communities approach their work.

#NothingAboutUsWithoutUs has its roots, after all, in a tagline of the disability rights movement from Eastern Europe.

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How disabled people find a lifeline in the online world

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A famous New Yorker cartoon from 1993 says: ' On the internet, nobody knows you're a dog.' The reference to the deeply democratising nature of the internet, and the ability to communicate with people around the world while still protecting your identity, isn't just a joke, though.

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Last year, a small Swedish startup made waves with what it called the world's first form of "digital contraception." The company's product, a smartphone app called Natural Cycles, pairs with a thermometer to track women's basal temperature every day, then uses that data to make predictions about ovulation. Rather than curbing ovulation, like an oral contraceptive, Natural Cycles gives women either a red light or a green light on unprotected sex depending on when they're most likely to be ovulating. The app promised a 21st-century update to contraception-one that used algorithms, not hormones; one that lived on an iPhone, not inside of a woman's body.

That promise is now under investigation, after a hospital in Stockholm reported last week that 37 out of 668 women seeking abortions since September had used Natural Cycles as their primary form of contraception.

That's just one hospital, in one city. The app reportedly counts over half a million subscribers across 160 countries. Chances are, more than just a few dozen women in Stockholm have been failed by the app and others like it.

The report from Stockholm is interesting because last year, Natural Cycles became the first app to be certified as a contraceptive in Europe. It raised millions of dollars in investments during a moment when interest in consumer health technology is staggeringly high. So the fact that women are reporting unwanted pregnancies from Natural Cycles already, not even a year after its certification, is not just alarming. It's a miner's canary for a much larger constellation of contraceptive technology.

The Algorithm Method

Before there was Natural Cycles, there was Clue, Ovia, Kindara, and dozens of other apps for charting one's fertility. Some of these apps look like digital calendars of menstruation: They provide a space on a woman's smartphone to log periods and track cycles over time. Others use period tracking, as well as data like basal temperature, to predict ovulation and suggest windows of peak fertility (for women trying to get pregnant) or low fertility (for women trying to avoid pregnancy).

"All these apps are really souped-up rhythm methods."

Reproductive clinician Mary Jane Minkin, also known as Madame Ovary.

It's true that ovulation is cyclical, and tracking data over time can help a woman predict when she's most likely to conceive. At best, apps like Natural Cycles give women space to log their own bodily rhythms and understand when they're most likely to get pregnant. At worst, they take folkloric advice about how to not get pregnant and make it seem more credible by dressing it up as a smartphone app.

"All these apps are really souped-up rhythm methods," says Mary Jane Minkin, a practicing gynecologist and reproductive clinician at the Yale University School of Medicine. "The term for the technique was known for years as 'Vatican roulette.' And the old joke was: 'What do you call women who use the rhythm method? Mothers.'"

Even still, it's not hard to find reasons why women would find a cycle-tracking app appealing. The burdens of contraception are high, and fall largely on women. Hormonal options can wreak havoc on the body, causing all kinds of unpleasant side effects. Without insurance, birth control pills are expensive, and often out of reach for young or low-income women. IUDs can be painful, condoms can be uncomfortable, emergency contraception can be fallible. So it's forgivable that a natural method-something that requires little more than monitoring your own body and downloading an app-seems appealing. Consider the group of women New York Magazine once called "the pull-out generation"-young females fed up with hormonal birth control and interested in understanding their bodies more deeply. Those women gave rise to an ecosystem of apps that claimed to hold all the information-and not just information, but technology, right there on your smartphone-needed to master one's own body.

It's an age-old impulse. Women have practiced "natural" family planning methods for as long as women have been fertile, as a way to avoid pregnancy when contraception wasn't attainable or easy to use. Today, the same methods are just dressed up with technology. Natural Cycles doesn't just follow the days of your period, but your temperature too! Other apps look at hormone levels, or vaginal mucus. Pair all that with an inviting design and a tab that cites research studies, and you've got something that looks more like science and less like folklore. When a technological solution is presented to us, we're more willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.

Quantified Fertility

Natural family planning, and apps that support the method, do have some credibility. Last September, Natural Cycles was the focus of a major study on natural contraceptive methods. The study followed 22,785 women through a total of 224,563 menstrual cycles and found that the app was 99 percent effective at preventing pregnancy during "perfect use," and 93 percent effective during "imperfect use"-roughly on par with hormonal birth control and barrier methods like condoms.

With any gadget or app that relies on self-reported data, the margin for human error is extremely high.

The study results were followed by a surge of $30 million in Series B funding for Natural Cycles. But much of the hype surrounded the success from "perfect use," rather than "typical use." The expectation that women will reliably input data, or even collect that data accurately, on a daily basis in the app seems unlikely. Moreover, the app relies on slight variations in temperature to predict ovulation, but is still finding ways to take into account the many factors that can affect a woman's temperature-sleeping habits, sickness, mood. The app can suggest when a woman is most likely to be ovulating, but cannot accurately warn when ovulation comes a few days early. And, with any gadget or app that relies on self-reported data, the margin for human error is extremely high.

Minkin says the collected data in these apps can be tremendously useful for women who are hoping to get pregnant. But using them as contraception "depends on your acceptance of risk." The exact day of ovulation can be unpredictable-even with a log of past cycles, temperature measurements, and hormone levels-and that can make it difficult to know which days are safe to have unprotected sex. "Very few people consistently ovulate every cycle on day 14," says Minkin. "If you happen to ovulate on day 12 and you've had sex two days earlier, those sperm are going to be around. All you need is one guy hanging around and you're pregnant."

In a statement to WIRED, a spokesperson from Natural Cycles wrote that "no contraception is 100 percent effective, and unwanted pregnancies are an unfortunate risk with any contraception." The goal of the app, the spokesperson said, is to provide greater contraceptive choice to women who wouldn't otherwise be using contraception at all. "At first sight, the numbers [of unintended pregnancies] mentioned in the media are not surprising given the popularity of the app and are in line with our efficacy rates. We have initiated an internal investigation with our clinical department in order to confirm this. As our user base increases, so will the amount of unintended pregnancies coming from Natural Cycles app users, which is an inevitable reality."

For any type of birth control, "typical use failures are significantly higher for any method that involves timely intervention from the user," says Aparna Sridhar, an obstetrics and gynecology clinician at UCLA. That's why IUDs are less likely to fail than a birth control pill, and a birth control pill is less likely to fail than a natural planning method.

More information can certainly be useful: Women who track their menstrual cycles, basal temperature, or hormonal levels over time might have a clearer picture of their fertility than women who don't, and mapping out the expected days of ovulation can decrease the likelihood of conception. But as with so many health-focused apps, wearables, and devices, that information can only go so far. Relying solely on a smartphone app to prevent pregnancy might be like wearing a Fitbit to prevent a heart attack. The data can offer valuable information. But information alone can't change the outcome.

Correction appended 11-19-2018 at 2:15 PM EST: This story was updated to include a statement from Natural Cycles.

High-Tech Hype

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In Contraceptive Tech, the App's Guess Is as Good as Yours

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Last year, a small Swedish startup made waves with what it called the world's first form of "digital contraception." The company's product, a smartphone app called Natural Cycles, pairs with a thermometer to track women's basal temperature every day, then uses that data to make predictions about ovulation.

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It's been well-documented that being online and instantly contactable for all of our waking hours is maybe, not actually, good for our mental health. We still do it though, because being logged on is really fun, and because modern work culture forbids us from actually resting, ever. We have absolutely no excuse to actually switch off, because our little tiny computers are always, always with us. We still have sleep though. Those precious few hours a night where we can say, honestly, "sorry I didn't receive your email, I was trying to get the necessary time without blue light to avoid going blind before I'm 40".

Not anymore! Thanks to a new project on Kickstarter, the Aumi Mini, a USB-powered nightlight that connects to your Wi-Fi and can tell you the weather, when your Wi-Fi is down, and integrate with your smart home. It can also tell you when you have emails, if you get tagged on Twitter, if someone mentions you on Facebook, and all that stuff that you'd maybe not actually like to know while you're stumbling to the toilet during your few hours of respite from being alive.

The nightlight is obviously very technically accomplished - yeah it's cool that we live in a world getting closer and closer to Black Mirror every day... isn't it. At the same time, what a nightmare. I have all notifications for everything turned off on my phone. Silent! Do not disturb! No fucking push notifications, thank you, and if I choose to go on the app every four seconds to refresh, that's my choice. That's my hell to live in. I don't need a nightlight blinking at me through my slowly closing eyes to tell me I have another mention from a man trying to tell me a funny joke. But if you do, then the Kickstarter is here. Go nuts! But like, actually.

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This nightlight will notify you of your retweets so you never sleep again

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It's been well-documented that being online and instantly contactable for all of our waking hours is maybe, not actually, good for our mental health. We still do it though, because being logged on is really fun, and because modern work culture forbids us from actually resting, ever.

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Of all of Instagram's special interest groups, perhaps no community elicits as many eye rolls as food grammers. It's not all bad, of course. In the right hands, a photo of a cheeseburger can garner as many likes as a minor celebrity's selfie. Then there's the rest of us, captioning shots of our half-melted ice cream with #yum.

Food, like pretty much everything we post online, is just another proxy to show the world who we are and what we care about. Still, food photography is having a moment, and will continue to, for the very reason pretty much all photography is having a moment: It's now easier than ever to take a great photo. Or at least it's easier than ever to slap enough filters on it to convince people it's a great photo.

Thank the tools at hand-literally. The phone you're clutching is about as capable of capturing those barbacoa tacos as most basic point-and-shoots on the market. It's still no substitute for a multi-thousand-dollar DSLR, but with the right lighting and post-production know-how, your phone's camera can definitely hold its own. For proof, check out Bon Appétit 's March issue. As part of its culture issue, the food magazine asked its photographers to swap out their fancy DSLR cameras for the iPhone. Nearly every photo in the feature well (aka the big, visual stories in the middle of the magazine), was shot on an iPhone 6s.

Alex Grossman, Bon Appétit 's creative director, explains that the whole thing sort of came about as a joke. "I think we probably said it jokingly initially and then were like, you know, it actually might be possible," he says. We could go ahead and list all of the specs that make the camera on the 6s better than any generation before it, but just know that before this phone, the quality *Bon Appétit *achieved just wouldn't have been possible. Could they have done the same thing with any number of non-Apple phone cameras? Probably. Grossman says it's really just a matter of increased file size-a bar the latest crop of smart phones has no trouble rising above. The bigger the file, the better it will look on a printed magazine page.

That said, Bon Appétit isn't the first magazine to try something like this. Back in 2012, Time magazine's " Wireless Issue" showcased well photography that was shot on the iPhone 4S. Later that year, the magazine ran a shot of Hurricane Sandy-taken by photographer Ben Lowy, also on the 4S-on its cover. Lowy had used the iPhone's limitations to his advantage; his gloomy photo of waves pummeling the East Coast was noticeably grainer than your typical cover photo, but thematically it worked.

By comparison, the difference in quality between Bon Appétit's March cover photo-a dazzling shot of a gooey margarita pizza-and a well-photo of loaded nachos is, to the untrained eye, barely noticeable. Both were taken by still-life photographers Peden + Munk; except one was captured on a Nikon (the pizza) and the other on an iPhone (the nachos). If you look really hard, you might notice that the shot of the pizza is crisper. The colors of the nachos are less vivid, the definition of the pan less defined than that of the pizza. "It sort of looks like film," says Grossman. He says that, with the iPhone, many of the photos were taken in as much natural light as possible to account for the iPhone's lack of aperture, and in studio shots some form of clamp and bluetooth shutter release were used to ensure the phone didn't shake when the photo was snapped. It produced good shots, but there were limitations. "We really had to run the photos as they were taken," he says. "Even blowing it up five to 10 percent you could notice a difference."

Of course, the decision to use iPhone photos is less about the technical achievement than it is a commentary on food culture as it stands in 2016. The whole thing is really just a tongue in cheek nod to how pervasive food photography has become. Bon Appétit and its staffers are as guilty as anyone in propagating food-as-selfie culture, and the spread of photos is proof of peak levels of self-awareness.

Appropriately, many of the photos are composed to play on food-gram tropes. The editors went as far as making a joke board of played-out food styling shots. There's the classic hold-it-in-your-hand photo, the food-photo-disguised-as-interior-design shot, the minimalist overhead shot, and Grossman's weakness: the artfully-messy-table shot. "You start nudging things and saying, 'Ah if only that were over there,'" he says. "Pretty soon you're eating dinner with six people, and they're like, dude, you've got to be kidding me."

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They're Just Like Us! Bon Appétit Shot Its Latest Food Pics on an iPhone

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Of all of Instagram's special interest groups, perhaps no community elicits as many eye rolls as food grammers. It's not all bad, of course. In the right hands, a photo of a cheeseburger can garner as many likes as a minor celebrity's selfie.

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It's been well-documented that being online and instantly contactable for all of our waking hours is maybe, not actually, good for our mental health. We still do it though, because being logged on is really fun, and because modern work culture forbids us from actually resting, ever. We have absolutely no excuse to actually switch off, because our little tiny computers are always, always with us. We still have sleep though. Those precious few hours a night where we can say, honestly, "sorry I didn't receive your email, I was trying to get the necessary time without blue light to avoid going blind before I'm 40".

Not anymore! Thanks to a new project on Kickstarter, the Aumi Mini, a USB-powered nightlight that connects to your Wi-Fi and can tell you the weather, when your Wi-Fi is down, and integrate with your smart home. It can also tell you when you have emails, if you get tagged on Twitter, if someone mentions you on Facebook, and all that stuff that you'd maybe not actually like to know while you're stumbling to the toilet during your few hours of respite from being alive.

The nightlight is obviously very technically accomplished - yeah it's cool that we live in a world getting closer and closer to Black Mirror every day... isn't it. At the same time, what a nightmare. I have all notifications for everything turned off on my phone. Silent! Do not disturb! No fucking push notifications, thank you, and if I choose to go on the app every four seconds to refresh, that's my choice. That's my hell to live in. I don't need a nightlight blinking at me through my slowly closing eyes to tell me I have another mention from a man trying to tell me a funny joke. But if you do, then the Kickstarter is here. Go nuts! But like, actually.

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This nightlight will notify you of your retweets so you never sleep again

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It's been well-documented that being online and instantly contactable for all of our waking hours is maybe, not actually, good for our mental health. We still do it though, because being logged on is really fun, and because modern work culture forbids us from actually resting, ever.

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You know you're going to die, right? Sooner rather than later, honestly, and in the grand scheme of things it'll basically be tomorrow. It could be tomorrow! It could be in ten minutes, when you step into the street a little bit too engrossed in your phone. Everything you love, ever have loved and ever will love will die, too, maybe after you but probably before. Then you will suffer through that until it's your turn to RIP. How do you feel? Energised? Ready to carpe diem? Or horribly, desperately anxious?

New app WeCroak reckons it'll probably be the former, which is why it promises to remind you of your mortality five times a day every day for the rest of your (short) life. The push notifications will come in the form of quotes from poets, philosophers, and other very smart people who are not only aware of death, but probably actually dead! The app is inspired by "a Bhutanese folk saying that to be happy one must contemplate death five times daily", and, presumably, the motivational power of a panic attack.

The app is meant to encourage "contemplation, conscious breathing, or meditation" with fun quotes like "many have died; you also will die. The drum of death is being beaten", but will only harass you from 7am to 10pm. So that's something. For nine hours a day, instead of being reminded of your death, you can lie still, close your eyes, and practice being actually dead! It's not clear what developer Ian Thomas, who is only 27 years of age, wants everyone to get out of this. Picture the scene: you're sitting at your desk and your phone buzzes to remind you of your inevitable death. You think, "yes, I will die. What do I want out of life? I'd love to travel!". You can't. You have no money. You have responsibilities. Life is hell, but now you're aware that you're going to lose the small bits of happiness you do have.

WeCroak is supposed to sort of offer the same reminder to be present that the 1000+ mindfulness apps on the app store do too, like Calm and Headspace, but with its own morbid little spin. Where Headspace might make your iPhone a more chill presence, WeCroak will very likely do the opposite, pinging at random intervals to remind you that you're wasting your precious, short life.

I was going to download the app and give it a go for a laugh, but a) it costs 99p, and b) I literally do not need it. I would actually quite like an app that could stop me from thinking about my impending death, or even cut down the amount I think about it to only five times a day. I cannot imagine the luxury of only thinking about death five times a day as opposed to every 45 seconds. But hey, if your brain works properly and you don't think about the death of yourself and everyone you love every single time you open your eyes, maybe it'll be good for you. Download it here.

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This fun little app reminds you that you're going to die, five times a day

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You know you're going to die, right? Sooner rather than later, honestly, and in the grand scheme of things it'll basically be tomorrow. It could be tomorrow! It could be in ten minutes, when you step into the street a little bit too engrossed in your phone.

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A new study attempting to demonstrate how dangerous social media is and how shallow the youths are for using it has found that materialistic people have "substantially" more Facebook friends than nice people who don't care about stuff. The study, published in claims that materialistic people view Facebook friends as "digital objects" and have a "greater need" to compare themselves to others on social media platforms.

Lead author Phillip Ozimek and his team of researchers in Germany gathered their data through an online questionnaire carried out on 242 users who had to state how much they agreed with statements about Facebook use and materialism. Ozimek's belief is that "materialistic people use Facebook more frequently because they tend to objectify their Facebook friends - they acquire Facebook friends to increase their possession".

Keen not to believe everything I read online, I did a little survey on myself. I have 195 Facebook friends because every single time I left a school or a job or a city I saw it as a great opportunity to cleanse myself of some people I didn't like in the first place. 195 friends...that's pretty low, huh? By Ozimek's research, you'd think I was a pretty unmaterialistic person, right? Wrong! I fucking love stuff! I love to buy things - in fact, I love to buy things a lot more than I love to read about what someone I went to primary school with's baby puked on that morning, which is precisely why I'm not very active on Facebook.

The study asked participants questions like "my life would be better if I owned certain things I don't have" which is pretty vague, misleading, and for most people, will be answered with a resounding yes. What if someone doesn't own a fridge or shoes? Are they materialistic for believing their life would be improved by owning them? Continuing my own very scientific research, I spoke to Amelia, who at 4170 has the most Facebook friends of anyone I personally know (the limit is 5000). She said "I do like buying things, but I would say the 'trend' correlates to more relevant social platforms", adding, "I don't think I buy things actively to show them off ON Instagram, but I do think Instagram makes me buy things. not only does it make unattainable lives seem ordinary, but on a very basic level, it makes me see people go places, eat things, or buy things".

The study also believes that materialists have a greater need to compare themselves to other people or to chart how far away they are from becoming wealthy, which to be fair I probably do - but not on Facebook of all places. Brian, who has 1700 Facebook friends, said that he adds so many people because he hates the idea of meeting nice people he gets on with and never seeing them again. Something that the research ignores, too, is the circumstantial nature of accumulating friends - if I had kept and added everyone I met at school (when I got Facebook), my first degree, my MA, on holiday, the 10-15 jobs in various fields as well as everyone in between...yeah, I'd have a lot more than 195 friends.

I spoke to Ryan, who said that adding people he met felt like "a way to connect", which was something I heard from many people I spoke to. Far from accumulating friends for numbers or to compare themselves to, many just didn't want to leave people behind who passed through their lives briefly. Considering a lot of facets of this study - its small sample size, its wild assumptions, its ignorance of many, many factors in a person's life, the failure to include other platforms - it's best to not start panicking and cutting down your friends list lest you become a materialistic sociopath.

For some food for thought, though, I leave you with Ozimek's weird, not-that-wise words: "it seems to us that Facebook is like a knife. It can be used for preparing yummy food, or it can be used for hurting a person".

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Materialistic people have more Facebook friends

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A new study attempting to demonstrate how dangerous social media is and how shallow the youths are for using it has found that materialistic people have "substantially" more Facebook friends than nice people who don't care about stuff.

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When Valerie Stark moved from Moscow to London, she didn't know anyone. She worked hard, had a great job and fell a little bit in love with this big, grey city. But, she was lonely. She only socialised during work hours and didn't know how to convert work mates to our-of-hours friends. Sharing this city with 8.8 million strangers didn't make that loneliness any less daunting.

And so, Valerie decided to solve her own loneliness problem using technology (the very thing that so often gets blamed for our increasing isolation). She invented the friendship and dating app Huggle, which now has 300,000 users and one million swipes a day in London. Huggle's charm is that it tries to bypass superficial judgment, linking people first by location rather than by photograph. The idea is that you check into a place and you're able to see who else is in the vicinity, meaning you instantly have something - your location, so maybe your interests, hobbies or pub roast preferences - in common.

Huggle is just one example of loneliness-fighting tech. There's a relatively new friendship app made specifically for women, by women, called Hey! Vina. It was created by Olivia June Poole and Jen Aprahamian. They too created the app to cure their own loneliness - particularly, they say, because they work in the still male-dominated tech industry and they noticed their social circles shrinking as people got married and had kids. The novel thing with this app is that it shows you profiles and photos and also uses an algorithm to try and match you with the women you'd most likely get along with - and to help the algorithm along, you can do quizzes.

If you're looking for more options, you can also switch the popular dating app Bumble - which was designed so that women could make the first move and control the tone of the conversation with a prospective date - to "BFF Mode". Bumble currently gets 10 billion swipes a month and has facilitated 2.5 billion messages between humans with smartphones. Among those furious messaging Bumblers are all sorts of people just trying to diminish their own loneliness. There's also an app called Peanut, which is for new mamas.

Harriet met Lucy earlier this year on Bumble BFF after she did a life inventory near her 28th birthday and decided she needed at least one new, good quality friend. She was working hard and at a bit of a loss as to how to meet someone outside the office. Going up to someone in person was all too much, so she decided to try the app.

"Technology can be part of the solution to loneliness if it is used along with real, face-to face contact too" - Laura Alcock-Ferguson, Executive Director of the Campaign to End Loneliness

"I don't know if I had the word for it at the time, but I was definitely lonely. I had friends from school and university and work, but I still felt weirdly alone. I wanted to meet someone outside of the people I already knew, but I didn't know how to make that happen, so I put Bumble on the friendship setting. I met a couple of women for a drink or a coffee, but Lucy was the person I actually liked immediately. We've been hanging out the past few months and I genuinely feel like I've known her longer. Maybe a few years ago it would have been embarrassing to say we met on an app, but I think that's changing."

Harriet, Valerie, Olivia and Jen were not alone in feeling lonely. A study by The British Red Cross suggests that 9 million people in the UK are either always or often lonely. According to the Mental Health Foundation, 48 per cent of people believe we are getting lonelier as a society. An Emotional Needs Audit of the UK by the Human Givens Institute18, which spoke to 4,600 people, found that 24.1 per cent of people did not feel emotionally connected to others, 34.8 per cent did not feel connected to the wider community and 35.4 per cent felt they did not receive enough attention.

"Loneliness is a major issue; in fact, it is reaching levels akin to an epidemic," says Laura Alcock-Ferguson, Executive Director of the Campaign to End Loneliness. "Older people are particularly affected by chronic loneliness, with 1.2 million people feeling lonely most of the time - but we know it impacts younger people too. In fact, our research found that over half of adults in the UK would find it difficult to admit to being lonely. The stigma surrounding loneliness is huge, and it affects all ages. But loneliness is dangerous for physical and mental health, and it must be addressed.

"Friendship apps can be part of the solution; they can help people to make a connection. The Peanut app, for example, could help new mothers (who often experience loneliness) to meet other likeminded women. However, we would want any technological solution like a friendship app to be the first step of developing a friendship in real-life. Technology can be part of the solution to loneliness if it is used along with real, face-to face contact too."

So if you're feeling lonely - maybe your friends have moved away or nestled into romantic relationships, maybe you're working from home or have a disability, maybe you simply feel alone in a room full of people - then it might be time to something about it. You've probably got a smartphone in your hand... start there.

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How women are using apps to fight loneliness in the big city

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When Valerie Stark moved from Moscow to London, she didn't know anyone. She worked hard, had a great job and fell a little bit in love with this big, grey city. But, she was lonely. She only socialised during work hours and didn't know how to convert work mates to our-of-hours friends.

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Instant Messaging has been around for years now. I spent the majority of my childhood sat on MSN hammering out emoji-riddled drivel to mates as fast and relentlessly as our temperamental dial-up connection would allow. But now, thanks to one frustrating little innovation from a hopeful techbro somewhere in Silicon Valley, this notion of instant messaging has manifested into a whole new monster, completely changing how we communicate for the worse. That thing being the dreaded read receipt.

Be it iMessage, Facebook Messenger, Whatsapp, DMs or Snapchat, it's now virtually impossible to escape the anxiety-inducing clutch of read receipts, in whatever form they might assume. That 'Read XX:XX', the haunting blue ticks or small profile picture in the corner of a chat window now dictate all of our online communications. Even Facebook events have them now - making it even harder to ignore those countless invitations to shitty local gigs from that friend you haven't spoken to in years or a co-worker's birthday drinks that you'd do anything to avoid.

Read receipts first appeared in Apple products in 2011, though the function can be switched off. WhatsApp also offers the option to turn off the double blue tick in its settings. It's more difficult to dodge them on Facebook and Snapchat though, which doesn't offer any remedy. Some people go as far as using browser extensions and hacks to avoid the social media anxiety.

With 'hyper-narcissism' among young people, the read receipt, unsurprisingly, can have a detrimental effect on users and their mental health. The days of replying to someone when, you know, you actually have time are long gone. We now find ourselves in a world where every interaction requires an immediate response, regardless of whether you're preoccupied with work, social events or just countless other Normal Life Things.

To get a better understanding of the harmful effects of the changes in the way we communicate online, we spoke to Dr Tony D. Sampson, a professor at the University of East London who has published various works on digital media cultures and communication - his recent projects look at social media through the lens of addiction and digital habit-forming.

"The aim is to trigger often negative emotions linked to compulsive behaviour" - Dr. Tony D. Sampson

When asked how the notion of instant messaging has changed in the last few years and with what impact, Sampson says: "The instantaneousness of responses has added a compulsive component to socialising on the web. Now that most people talk through Facebook, the whole process has begun to fit into their model of doing things - which is to create a habit-forming interaction that keeps users on the platform for as long as possible."

There's the gut-wrenching and humiliating emotional sucker-punch of knowing someone's seen your message but not replied straight away. We're left questioning what we've done wrong or, probably more likely, furious at the receiver for having the audacity to not drop what they're doing and get back immediately. We construct entire, baseless narratives around that 'seen' notification. Sometimes, we use them passive aggressively, ruthlessly informing people we're unhappy with radio silence.

Elsewhere we're faced with the looming guilt and pressure that comes with inevitably looking like an asshole for 'ghosting' someone, regardless of any perfectly valid reasons for not being able to reply right away. We're scrambling frantically to excuse ourselves for taking X amount of time to reply because we now feel we're owed an instant response at all times.

Forgetting the sake of clingy, over-protective partners or friends for a second, you have to ask what kind of monster actually leaves read receipts on when given the choice. Because, other than in that instance, are there really any positive reasons for it? Sampson says the design aspects of social media are increasingly developed around habit-forming models of interaction: basically, Facebook and Whatsapp or whatever messaging system you're on wants to keep you on there. Sampson explains: "The aim is to trigger often negative emotions linked to compulsive behaviour so as to keep people checking their social media page or using an app, not only to see if we have a response but to see if our message has even been read or not."

In previous much-easier times a simple 'sorry just seen this' would suffice but now, in our increasingly connected world, the modern conversation is fraught with social anxiety: is bae pissed I left them on read? Can I post this fire tweet while avoiding the group chat?

"The more compulsive the checking of notifications and read receipts becomes, the more they keep the data flow alive and the more likely we are to keep giving away more information about ourselves that can be sold on" - Dr. Tony D. Sampson

It's pretty clear the mass roll-out of these read receipt isn't for our own gain and enjoyment, so the question is: why then? Tony argues that it all comes down to the need for corporate social media businesses to extract value from our social interactions, with our behavioural data rigorously logged and sold on to marketing companies. In regards to read receipts, he suggests that this is done in a more indirect way: "We're told that the aim is to bring people together but this is how they make their money. The more compulsive the checking of notifications and read receipts becomes, the more they keep the data flow alive and the more likely we are to keep giving away more information about ourselves that can be sold on."

Of course, Whatsapp wants those 1 billion people across 180 countries to keep checking in, and Facebook delights in your phone blowing up.

Speaking as someone who is absolutely dreadful at replying to people, it's not hard to see the negative effects of read receipts first-hand - I think we've all experienced the frustration on both sides. But as they're introduced to more and more platforms, we have to ask where it will stop. Could it leave us in some dystopian, Black Mirror-esque nightmare where we're all individually scored, or even ranked, on how quickly and consistently we interact with people? We already see the Chinese government bringing in those Nosedive-esque rating systems. With young people left devastated and borderline hysterical after losing a 571-day streak of consecutive replies, does Snapchat's 'Snapstreak' feature not somewhat foreshadow this? Who knows, maybe it's time to mute the group chat.

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How 'seen' messages on Facebook mess with your mental health

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Instant Messaging has been around for years now. I spent the majority of my childhood sat on MSN hammering out emoji-riddled drivel to mates as fast and relentlessly as our temperamental dial-up connection would allow.

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U.S. Vinyl Album Sales Hit Nielsen Music-Era Record High in 2017

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U.S. Vinyl Album Sales Hit Nielsen Music-Era Record High in 2017

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Vinyl LP sales accounted for 14 percent of all physical album sales in 2017, The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" top selling vinyl LP.

Once again, yearly vinyl album sales have hit another Nielsen Music-era record high, as the configuration sold 14.32 million (up 9 percent) in 2017. That's up from the previous one-year high, registered in 2016 with 13.1 million.
Nielsen Music's 2017 tracking year ran from Dec. 30, 2016 through Dec. 28, 2017. Numbers in this story are rounded. Nielsen Music began electronically tracking music sales and data in 1991 (so a reference in this story to the "Nielsen era" means from 1991 to the present).
2017 marks the 12th straight year of growth in vinyl album sales. The format continues to increase in sales as more new and classic albums are issued on vinyl, promotion from retailers like Amazon, Urban Outfitters and Barnes & Noble, as well as annual vinyl-oriented celebrations like Record Store Day.

Vinyl LP sales represented 8.5 percent of all album sales in 2017 - up from 6.5 percent for the configuration's share in 2016. Further, LP sales were 14 percent of all physical album sales in 2017 (a Nielsen-era record share for the format) - up from 11 percent in 2016.

Further, vinyl album sales were driven by an array of titles, not just a handful of hot sellers. In total, 77 different titles each sold more than 20,000 copies on vinyl LP in 2017, as compared to 58 in 2016.

As usual, rock music, by far, drives most vinyl album sales, as the genre accounted for 67 percent of all vinyl album sales in 2017 (versus 69 percent in 2016).

The Beatles finish 2017 with the top two selling vinyl LPs of the year: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (72,000 - powered in large part by the album's deluxe anniversary reissue in 2017) and Abbey Road (66,000). The soundtrack Guardians of the Galaxy: Awesome Mix Vol. 1 is the third biggest with 62,000. Comparably, in 2016, the top three sellers were Twenty One Pilots' Blurryface (68,000), David Bowie's Blackstar (66,000) and Adele's 25 (58,000).

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U.S. Vinyl Album Sales Hit Nielsen Music-Era Record High in 2017

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Once again, yearly vinyl album sales have hit another Nielsen Music-era record high, as the configuration sold 14.32 million (up 9 percent) in 2017. That's up from the previous one-year high, registered in 2016 with 13.1 million. Nielsen Music's 2017 tracking year ran from Dec. 30, 2016 through Dec. 28, 2017.

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Vinyl booms as streaming fuels biggest rise in UK music sales for 20 years

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Vinyl booms as streaming fuels biggest rise in UK music sales for 20 years

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"Vinyl LP sales are now at their highest level since 1991, with 4.1 million LPs sold last year"

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Vinyl sales have hit a 26-year high as steaming helped lead the fastest growth in UK music consumption since the late 1990s.

A total of 135.1 million albums or their equivalent were either streamed, purchased on physical format, and/or downloaded over the past 12 months. This represents a 9.5% rise on 2016 and marks a third year of growth.

Vinyl LP sales are now at their highest level since 1991, with 4.1 million LPs sold last year - a rise of 26.8 % over the 12-month period and a huge leap from their lowest point a decade ago when just 205,000 vinyl LPs were sold, according to figures from the British Phonographic Industry.

Almost one in 10 of all physical purchases are now on vinyl format. Ed Sheeran's Divide was the most purchased album on vinyl LP (and on CD), ahead of Liam Gallagher, whose first solo release As You Were enjoyed the highest week-one sales in over 20 years.

Despite vinyl's strong comeback, the year's growth in demand for recorded music was driven by 68.1 billion audio streams served through Spotify, Apple Music, Deezer and other audio streaming services. This represents a 51.5% rise on 2016 and a 1,740% increase since 2012.

Streaming now accounts for over half of UK music consumption, with weekly streams hitting the 1.5 billion milestone in the second week of December.

UK acts accounted for eight of the top-10 best-selling artist albums in 2017, with Ed Sheeran leading another successful year for British artists. Divide was the year's most streamed, physically purchased (both on CD and LP) and downloaded album.

Cassettes tapes are also making an unlikely comeback, with sales of the retro format more than doubling last year compared to 2016.

In 2017, more than 80 albums were released on cassette, driving almost 20,000 sales.
The biggest artist albums of 2017 on the Official Chart

Ed Sheeran - ÷

Rag'n'bone Man - Human

Sam Smith - The Thrill Of It All

Little Mix - Glory Days

Pink - Beautiful Trauma

Ed Sheeran - x

Michael Ball & Alfie Boe - Together Again

Drake - More Life

Liam Gallagher - As You Were

Stormzy - Gang Signs & Prayer

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vinyl booms as streaming fuels biggest rise in uk music sales for 20 years. consumer

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Vinyl booms as streaming fuels biggest rise in UK music sales for 20 years

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Vinyl sales have hit a 26-year high as steaming helped lead the fastest growth in UK music consumption since the late 1990s. A total of 135.1 million albums or their equivalent were either streamed, purchased on physical format, and/or downloaded over the past 12 months.

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Station to Station: The Past, Present, and Future of Streaming Music

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Station to Station: The Past, Present, and Future of Streaming Music

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From YouTube, to Pandora, to Spotify, streaming music is piloting our listening habits in fascinating new ways. Eric Harvey explores how these developments are affecting ideas of taste, access, and ownership in the 21st century.

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In 1939, ASCAP pulled all of its material from radio for several months, unable to settle on a higher royalty rate with broadcasters. In response, broadcasters formed the BMI licensing agency, which filled its ranks with the hillbilly and R&B music that ASCAP wouldn't touch. In the 40s, indie label Decca Records pulled its records from radio in favor of stocking singles in jukeboxes. While performers' unions claimed that jukeboxes were putting live musicians out of work, many smaller acts that appealed toward the young, minority audiences at soda fountains and bars were reaping the promotional benefits of jukebox play.

Pulling one's catalog from Spotify-or, at least, vociferously airing grievances about their fairness to artists-has become the 21st century update of those gambits during radio's first decades. In a piece published on Pitchfork in 2012, musician and writer Damon Krukowski critiqued the landscape for DIY and indie artists in the 21st century, noting that "industrial capitalism on a [small] scale" had given way to a model of "financial speculation" that strives to turn profits for investors on the backs of cheaply streamed content provided by artists. The former Galaxie 500 drummer also opened the books on his streaming royalties, demonstrating how paltry the payouts are for decidedly non-paltry numbers of plays.

At a much higher level of visibility, Thom Yorke pulled the Atoms for Peace catalog from Spotify in mid-2013, taking to Twitter to condemn the platform's compensation model for up-and-coming artists; he'd later memorably classify Spotify as "the last desperate fart" of the recording industry's "dying corpse." A few days later, David Byrne extended Yorke's Spotify critique to "the internet," which he claimed "will suck the creative content out of the whole world until nothing is left." In October 2013, Jana Hunter of Baltimore indie act Lower Dens- the exact sort of band that Byrne and Yorke aimed to support with their public stances-took to Tumblr to argue: "Music shouldn't be free. It shouldn't even be cheap."

Spotify's attempts to balance free access to its vast catalog with fair compensation to artists derives in large part from a particularly Swedish way of thinking about digital music. Stockholm-born Daniel Ek, a precocious, slightly cocky entrepreneur, founded Spotify in 2006 while CEO of µTorrent, one of the world's most popular BitTorrent clients. In its early form, Spotify became instantly popular in Europe as what communications professor and author Patrick Burkart calls "a rogue index," offering vast access with no licensing.

"The labels played ball," Burkart explains, "because the Swedish government was advocating on their behalf, and everybody was trying to find a solution to [BitTorrent platform] the Pirate Bay." When Swedish police-under significant international pressure-raided the Pirate Bay's hosting service in 2006, the politically minded Swedish Pirate Party suddenly gained international attention. Burkart, whose new book focuses on Pirate politics, explains that the movement is "informed by the experiences of music fans, independent artists, and tech-savvy Internet activists who collectively reject the unilateral terms of participation in the celestial jukebox."

As the Spotify concept developed, Ek shaped it as a piracy-killing Napster-with-permission that could turn an estimated half-billion illegal downloaders into paying subscribers. In 2010, former Napster investor Sean Parker invested $15 million in Spotify, then helped broker a crucial partnership with Facebook. Parker's uniquely American sense of cocky tech-entrepreneur rebelliousness (see: The Social Network) fit well with Ek's Scandinavian-bred sense of openness, coupled with his salesmanship and skill at coding.

For years now, Sweden has become synonymous with music piracy. The reasons, Burkart tells me, lie in the country's cultural makeup and its recent legal and political histories with respect to copyright. "Sweden lagged behind other EU countries in terms of implementing directives on copyrights and data retention," he explains. "Swedes had a little bit longer to experiment on the net and develop alternate delivery systems."

Sweden is a socialist democracy with a proud history of entrepreneurialism, as well, and Burkart describes a Swedish legal tradition called allemansrätten, a property statute that translates to "every man's right." "It's most often applied to hiking, boating and skiing across private property," Burkart says. "As long as you don't disturb it, you can even camp for a night, collect berries and mushrooms and do non-destructive things in this commons." To tech-savvy Swedes like Ek, who came of age in the heady times of the late 90s and 00s, entrepreneurialism was filtered through this model of infinite access-the celestial jukebox-as-cultural-commons.

Like many 21st century tech startups, Spotify itself has yet to turn an actual profit-because of its business model, the more Spotify expands in the U.S., the more money it loses.

Several years after Napster's inability to strike deals with the major labels, Spotify needed the participation of the multinational corporations who control around 80% of the world's recorded music in order to launch its ostensibly piracy-killing platform. The solution was one that went directly against the commons idea: offer the majors equity in the company, an agreement that means that somewhere between 18 and 20 percent of Spotify is owned by the three remaining major labels. (The exact number isn't known because the deals were struck under binding non disclosure agreements.) For many artist advocates, this is one of many troubling aspects of the service.

"The major labels are able to build a new business on the backs of artists without telling them very much at all about how their compensation actually works," Casey Rae, an attorney and label-owner, tells me. Rae is the interim executive director of the Washington D.C. nonprofit Future of Music Coalition, founded in 2000, which is devoted to musicians' rights. Rae and many others within the FMC aren't inherently predisposed to hate platforms like Spotify, but they worry about the sustainability of the streaming model, for artists as well as other independent platforms. "There are only three major labels left, so it's not even really like Spotify can have a competitor enter the marketplace," Rae explains, "because any competitor would have to be extraordinarily well-capitalized in order to even get to the negotiating table."

Even though Spotify's effects on revenue were an unknown, it was too compelling an opportunity to pass up for most indie labels. "Early on, Spotify was this weird foreign threat," remembers Chris Swanson, co-owner of the Secretly Label Group, which includes Secretly Canadian, Jagjaguwar, Dead Oceans, and the Numero Group. "It was this cloud in the distance that we were all reading about, seeing how it was impacting overseas markets in some positive and negative ways."

The payout numbers Swanson and other label owners were being offered were significantly lower than the 70 cents-per-mp3 that iTunes paid. Nonetheless, the Secretly Group signed up, and were able to negotiate decent terms. "We just didn't want to be missing from a platform," Swanson says. With a few years of hindsight, he surmises that holding music off of Spotify "is almost like it's not on the grid, which maybe forces people to go buy records, but it actually means people are talking about the music less." But Spotify's ties to peer-to-peer-a huge catalog, an on-demand interface, and a free, ad-supported version-means it threatens profits more than any other platform.

Still, like many 21st century tech startups, Spotify itself has yet to turn an actual profit itself-its value is based on investors' speculation of its future success as a business model. This leads to what appears like a paradox, or at the very least, terrible PR. On one hand, Daniel Ek is a very rich man. On the other, Spotify's yearly revenues are exceeded by its fixed costs-marketing, payroll, and especially licensing fees and royalty payments, which themselves account for 70% of revenue. (Spotify claims to have paid $1 billion in royalties to artists as of the end of 2013.) Because of its business model, the more Spotify expands in the U.S., the more money it loses.

In December 2013, Spotify took a small step toward transparency by releasing an information-laden website detailing many aspects of its operation, including its royalty payments to artists. One of the more interesting revelations was that during July of last year, a "niche indie album" collected $3,300 from plays on the platform, and a "breakthrough indie album" pulled in $76,000. I reached out to several labels trying to discern the origin of such categorizations. Unsurprisingly, no one had ever heard of them. Spotify's "niche indie" classification, as it turns out, is about as useful in a descriptive sense as "classic hits" are for radio listeners. Its purpose for Spotify, perhaps obviously, is pure public relations. "Niche indie" artists are what Spotify wants them to be.

Talking about these Spotify classifications and numbers, Jeremy DeVine, owner of NYC-based indie label Temporary Residence Ltd. (Explosions in the Sky, Eluvium), says, "We get paid almost exactly $3,300 a month right now from all on-demand streaming services. For the entire label-215 titles-we make between $3,300 and $3,500 a month." As for the "niche indie band" categorization? "That's a band who can sell as many of one record in a month as an entire independent label that does fairly well sells for their entire catalog in the same timeframe," DeVine estimates, citing Beach House and Vampire Weekend as possible examples.

Over the past few years, DeVine has devised his own experiments at Temporary Residence to understand Spotify's threats more directly. "We don't release records to on-demand streaming platforms on release dates anymore," he explains. Such a delay-which other labels have adopted-echoes the past decade's label strategies devoted to avoiding mp3 leaks ahead of release dates. Keeping new records out of certain channels around the time of release-treating Spotify as the new MediaFire, in a sense-is widely viewed as the best way to translate release-day promotion and hype into actual sales.

DeVine had a different, somewhat grander experiment in mind a couple years ago. When he noticed that his label's digital and physical revenues were declining after offering them on Spotify, he devised a plan: pull the entire Temporary Residence catalog off on-demand services for one calendar year and then compare those revenues to other years. But DeVine decided to drop this experiment altogether after sending an email to the acts on his roster. "There were a handful of artists who understood and liked the idea of it," DeVine remembers, "but they just didn't want to be attached to a statement. There would suddenly be articles like, 'Explosions in the Sky Pulls From Spotify' or 'Pinback Pulls From Rdio'. It's not their fight." DeVine agrees with Yorke's principled stand, but notes that many smaller artists fear that their music would stop speaking for them, in lieu of the politics of their label.

The battle being fought, which many label owners and artists understand, is one of perception. When music becomes big data, the act of listening to a single song-something that was never trackable before-is capable of generating a small amount of monetary value. While Spotify's promotional affordances for new artists have yet to be proven, the platform has redefined the possibilities of micro-monetizing back catalogs over a period of years. This angle on the Spotify Problem illuminates what is perhaps the biggest shift in the economics of popular music occasioned by streaming music royalty schemes: the shift away from the more established procedure of collecting (more significant) royalties for point-of-sale music recordings to a lengthy series of micropayments.

The point-of-sale royalties model, which drove music consumption in the 20th century, banked on radio play to drive purchases of albums, concert tickets, and other merchandise. This is a very pop and rock-centric model, to be sure. There's a reason that rappers, whose income is structured through a different equation of live performance, brand tie-ins, merch sales, and recordings, aren't complaining much about streaming micropayments. Under the streaming micro-royalties model, however, people pay fractions of a penny every time they stream any song, for as long as Spotify is around. Of course, the disappearance of Spotify is a very real possibility-as much as Daniel Ek publicly desires to create an experience for artists and fans, he's under much more pressure to turn a profit.

For Swanson and his labels, the focus with Spotify is more on monetizing catalog than promoting new releases. He uses Drag City-a label that was a formative influence on the launch of Secretly Canadian and does not offer its music on Spotify-as an example: "Drag City's back catalog is the sort of stuff that people are going to keep playing over and over," Swanson claims. "I'm convinced that they would make more money on Smog records streaming over 10 years than they would by selling individual downloads." In this way, one of the economic logics of Spotify for labels is the logic of the classic rock or oldies station, with exponentially more depth. For Swanson, the bottom line is twofold: return on investment, but also what he calls "cultural market share"-the continued circulation of music that has outlived its initial hype-for which Spotify works admirably.

For DIY artists, there's no need to make public statements about financial stations. It's more a matter of staying away. Singer/songwriter David Bazan, who is currently playing concerts in his avid fans' living rooms, says Spotify and its ilk offer his career very little. "The majority of my interaction with my audience is people who buy records and go to shows," he says. "Outside of concerts, it's just disposable media." Bazan's albums with Pedro the Lion, released by Jade Tree between 2000 and 2004, are available to stream on Spotify, but his two most recent solo albums, released by Barsuk, are not. As Bazan tells it, the process was rather simple: He asked Barsuk to withhold his solo albums from the platforms, and they agreed. A longtime proponent of sustainable, DIY music-making, Bazan uses locavore food movements to explain his distaste for Spotify. "I'm like a small farmer who interacts with people who consume what I make and tend my little patch of ground," he says, "and the Spotifys of the world, which are like McDonald's, are going to make people less aware of how the thing gets made and of its value."

Inherent with the "slow food" mentality as applied to music is the necessity of the tangible fetish property, the physical music object. "I'm willing to lose hundreds of impressions here or there in the publicity game in order to have people get my record and hold it in their hands," says Bazan. "When it costs them something, they're going to have a slightly deeper relationship with it."

Vinylphilia and other sorts of affective relationships with musical objects are nothing new, but they take on a new level of importance when contrasted with a transmission from a distant server rather than an mp3 on a hard drive. It's often hard to understand the affordances of music media until the next one comes along. Mp3 files felt incredibly intangible, even ephemeral, compared to CDs, cassettes, and records, but at least you could carry around an object that you were certain contained those files. With the new crop of streaming platforms, there's even less a sense of ownership, only the procedure of remotely licensing a digital file to start playing each time you click. It's understandable that many artists worry about the implications of streaming music: Access isn't nearly the same phenomenon as ownership. Internet radio platforms like Pandora highlight the long history of this idea.

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Cover Story: Station to Station: The Past, Present, and Future of Streaming Music

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From YouTube, to Pandora, to Spotify, streaming music is piloting our listening habits in fascinating new ways that both upend old hierarchies and recall innovations of previous eras. Eric Harvey explores how these developments are affecting ideas of taste, access, and ownership in the 21st century, and what this shift means for fans and artists alike.

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La numérimorphose des pratiques de consommation musicale

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La numérimorphose des pratiques de consommation musicale

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GRANJON & COMBES

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Consuming Music in the Digital Age: Towards an Analysis of Sound Environments

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Consuming Music in the Digital Age: Towards an Analysis of Sound Environments

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RAPHAEL NOWAK

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1 À l'ère du numérique , la réception de la musique est sujette à un tournant marqué par l'hétérogénéité des pratiques de consommation des individus. En effet, plus de 14 ans après l'émergence du téléchargement de musique en ligne, il existe de multiples façons d'interagir avec la musique. Le CD, dont l'existence a pourtant été menacée par les fichiers numériques, demeure l'objet standard d'écoute. Le MP3 - et autres fichiers numériques - continue de prospérer et de se diffuser à travers de nombreux supports. La cassette à bande magnétique refait même surface dans des marchés de niche (musiques punks, électronique, métal) ; et le disque vinyle vit une renaissance impressionnante en ce début de XXI e siècle.

2Ces pratiques diverses posent un certain nombre de questions en rapport avec l'analyse sociologique des pratiques de consommation musicale. En premier lieu, comment est-il possible de saisir la signification des ces formes d'interactions diverses ? En effet, la multiplicité des supports et formats d'écoutes s'inscrit dans les pratiques quotidiennes. J'argue donc qu'une analyse de la consommation musicale se doit de prendre en compte l'aspect matériel des objets utilisés. La seconde piste de recherche en lien avec ces changements culturels importants tient à la signification de la diffusion croissante de la musique dans la vie quotidienne des individus.

3Cette note de recherche s'attache donc à répondre à l'interrogation suivante : comment analyser sociologiquement la consommation musicale à l'ère du numérique ? Pour répondre à cette question, je discuterai de différentes approches qualitatives portant sur les interactions entre les individus et la musique en trois parties. Tout d'abord, j'aborde les approches interactionnistes de la réception de la musique afin de montrer quelles sont leurs limites et comment il est possible de les dépasser. La seconde section de l'article porte sur la particularité de l'ère numérique, à savoir la multiplicité des objets mobilisés pour écouter de la musique que je nomme " éclectisme technologique ". Enfin, la dernière partie défendra une approche de la consommation musicale par les " environnements sonores " afin de rendre compte des interactions différenciées et des dimensions spatiales et temporelles qui caractérisent les pratiques d'écoute.

4Les analyses interactionnistes de la relation entre les individus et la musique ont connu une émergence fulgurante au cours des vingt dernières années. Malgré une mise en abîme de l'individualisation des rapports à la musique au profit de son aspect socialisateur, ces analyses apportent une explication très concrète des mécanismes de diffusion de la musique dans la vie quotidienne des individus, et ce qu'elle apporte en termes de réponse émotionnelle ou de projet de soi. Par souci de clarté, je vais m'intéresser à deux types d'approches interactionnistes, celle dite " écologique " dans un premier temps, puis celle dite " constructiviste ".

1 Le psychologue interactionniste américain Gibson a mis en évidence la théorie des " affordances " p (...)

5Tout d'abord, l'approche écologique de la musique est incarnée principalement par la musicologie ou la psychologie de la musique, mais a également été adoptée par la sociologie de la musique. L'approche écologique repose sur une analyse des propriétés textuelles de la musique comme point de départ des interactions entre les individus et la musique. Comme le note Eric Clarke (2005 : 5), " l'écologie " est l'étude des organismes en relation avec leur environnement. En se basant sur la notion des " affordances ", développée par le psychologue interactionniste James Gibson (1979) 1, l'approche écologique énonce la perception comme élément déterminant des interactions entre les individus et leurs environnements.

6Clarke a récemment apporté une contribution importante à la théorie écologique. Dans un livre intitulé Ways of Listening (2005), il établit les fondements théoriques de l'approche écologique. Selon lui, il est essential d'analyser les interactions entre les individus et la musique en se basant sur deux principes : tout d'abord, il existe un certain nombre d'invariants dans l'interaction, comme par exemple, les caractéristiques sonores de la musique, ainsi que les éléments " environnementaux ". En second lieu, l'auditeur possède une capacité de perception qui lui est propre. La consommation quotidienne de musique dépend donc de l'interaction entre les " invariants " et la subjectivité des auditeurs :

Le principe de l'approche écologique [...] est que la perception est une relation réciproque entre les observateurs et leurs environnements, spécifiés par les attributs des deux. (2005 : 123 ; traduction libre).

7Le développement théorique de Clarke est intéressant pour penser la manière dont la musique se diffuse dans des environnements. Dans ce qui suit, je compte utiliser la notion d'environnement mais dans un sens plus malléable que celui de Clarke, qui insiste sur ses " invariants ", alors que la perception des environnements est elle-même " variante ". Une seconde conclusion que j'établis par rapport à ce travail peut se formuler comme une critique. En effet, son approche méthodologique pose problème dans la mesure où il ne fournit que sa propre interprétation des œuvres musicales et ne fait jamais appel à une recherche empirique. Au fur et à mesure des développements de son livre, la promesse théorique de l'approche écologique s'étiole pour laisser la place à une analyse textuelle des œuvres musicales. Les modes différenciés de la perception de la musique ne sont qu'introduits, mais jamais exemplifiés.

8Bien que récemment théoriquement fondée par Clarke, l'approche écologique de la musique est implicitement disséminée dans des analyses psychologiques, musicologiques et même sociologiques de la réception de la musique. La sociologue américaine Tia DeNora souscrit à l'approche écologique, même si c'est à un degré moindre que Clarke, dans la mesure où elle ne fournit pas de cadre théorique défini. Cependant, DeNora fait référence à la notion " d'affordances " et cite le travail de Gibson (1966) à plusieurs reprises dans son livre Music and Everyday Life (2000) 2. Son but est de rendre compte des usages variés de la musique dans la vie quotidienne des individus en se basant sur une enquête empirique uniquement menée auprès de femmes. Elle décrit ainsi comment certaines de ses participantes mobilisent la musique pour se concentrer, se relaxer, se détendre ou faire la fête. Cependant, le cadre situationnel des interactions manque, ce qui laisse planer le doute sur les conditions de la réception des œuvres. DeNora décrit la musique comme ayant des affordances propres mais écrit peu sur ce qui permet la mise en œuvre de ces affordances, en ce qui concerne les conditions des interactions.

9En résumé, l'approche écologique met l'accent sur les caractéristiques textuelles de la musique comme étant l'élément principal des interactions quotidiennes, et donc de la consommation de la musique. Cette théorisation de la réception de la musique est contredite par l'approche constructiviste, principalement représentée par Antoine Hennion. Bien que DeNora et Hennion soient souvent cités comme développant une approche similaire, j'avance qu'il existe des différences importantes dans leur manière d'analyser ces interactions.

10Alors que DeNora insiste sur les affordances de la musique, Hennion considère les individus (les " amateurs ") comme point de départ. Écouter de la musique consiste en un assemblage de médiations tant environnementales que matérielles ou cognitives. Les individus empruntent un chemin fait de médiations musicales auxquelles ils répondent en adoptant des postures corporelles particulières. Et comme le note Hennion, " parfois, de cet assemblage, quelque chose peut arriver " (Hennion et al., 2000 : 178). Le but ultime des amateurs est d'éprouver ce qu'il nomme le " plaisir musical " et l'abandon de soi. Ce qui résulte de l'approche constructiviste de Hennion est une conception dynamique du goût :

Le goût n'est pas un objet, un état, une propriété, mais une saisie, un engagement incertain, il porte sur ce qui se passe avec des objets, il ne se déduit pas d'eux : loin que les déterminismes en rendent compte, c'est précisément parce que les déterminismes sont toujours insuffisants qu'il faut goûter. (2000 : 243)

Contrairement à Clarke (2005) ou DeNora (2000), Hennion parle de " prises " musicales, ce qui induit un rapport plus interactionniste et moins déterminant. La musique est au final une variable qu'il faut atteindre et saisir, afin d'en être affectée.

11Les analyses de Clarke, DeNora et Hennion sont essentielles pour comprendre les interactions entre les individus et la musique au quotidien. Elles apportent toutes une représentation distincte de ce qu'est la musique pour les individus. Les analyses sociologiques que je développe dans la suite de cette note de recherche sont directement inspirées de ces notions interactionnistes, et particulièrement des travaux de DeNora et Hennion. Néanmoins, j'apporte une nuance en rapport avec les innovations technologiques récentes de la musique enregistrée. La prochaine section porte donc sur la notion de matérialité en rapport avec les modes hétérogènes de consommation musicale, que je catégorise sous l'appellation " d'éclectisme technologique ".

12Au cours des trois dernières décennies, la musique enregistrée a connu un certain nombre de bouleversements qui ont eu des conséquences sur la manière dont les individus consomment la musique. En effet, depuis la portabilité privative du Walkman (cf. Hosokawa 1984) et l'ère du numérique ouverte par le Compact Disc en 1982, les modes de consommation ont beaucoup fluctué et rendu les analyses sur les interactions musicales plus temporaires et incertaines.

13À la fin du siècle dernier, le boom du téléchargement illégal, symbolisé en premier lieu par l'application Napster, développée par un étudiant américain de 19 ans, remet en question les modes traditionnels de diffusion. Le CD menace de disparaître, les industries musicales pointent du doigt les jeunes " pirates " et mettent en garde sur la fin de la production musicale à grande échelle. Après cette période initiale de tourments et d'excès, la maturation de l'ère du numérique donne lieu à des pratiques de consommation surprenantes. En effet, les dernières études quantitatives de consommation musicale suggèrent des modes de consommation différenciés, hétérogènes et éclectiques. C'est tout d'abord l'institut anglais UK Music qui arguait en 2009 que les individus qui téléchargent le plus de musique sont aussi ceux qui en achètent le plus (UK Music 2009). Ce résultat contredisait alors l'idée reçue selon laquelle les plus gros " pirates " étaient également ceux qui faisaient le plus de mal à l'industrie musicale. Dans cette étude, le lien entre l'accès et la musique dépend de l'intérêt de posséder les œuvres, plutôt que d'une appartenance ou d'une origine sociale. Des résultats similaires ont récemment été avancés par une étude américaine cette fois (American Assembly 2012). En me basant sur ces études qui posent le goût comme variable de l'accès différencié à la musique, j'introduis l'idée que les supports d'écoute ne doivent pas être pensés dans une logique exclusive et antagoniste, mais plutôt comme complémentaire les uns des autres. Les auditeurs écoutent de la musique en utilisant des fichiers numériques, des CDs, des vinyles, voire même des cassettes à bande magnétique, car tous ces supports possèdent des qualités intrinsèques qui contribuent au plaisir musical.

14Les chiffres communiqués par l'institut IFPI (International Federation of the Phonographic Industry) montrent que le téléchargement illégal de musique baisse, que les ventes de CDs baissent désormais moins rapidement, et surtout que les ventes de fichiers numériques augmentent, tout comme les ventes de disques vinyles (IFPI 2011, 2012). La baisse du téléchargement illégal s'explique par plusieurs facteurs : il y a tout d'abord une usure de la nouveauté liée à l'accès gratuit. Les auditeurs possèdent en général une bibliothèque musicale importante, ce qui explique qu'ils peuvent utiliser le téléchargement illégal avec parcimonie. Ensuite, le renforcement des méthodes répressives et les alternatives légales de vente et de streaming contribuent également à dissuader de l'usage du peer-to-peer ou du direct downloading. Le téléchargement illégal n'a donc pas tout écrasé sur son passage. Il n'en reste pas moins que les fichiers numériques sont pratiques pour les auditeurs, parce qu'ils sont malléables, immatériels, reproductibles et échangeables à souhait. À ce propos, Clément Combes et Fabien Granjon (2007) exposent les raisons pour lesquels les auditeurs sont intéressés par les fichiers numériques, et explorent les usages qu'ils en font. Néanmoins, leur conclusion sur la " numérimorphose " paraît exagérée eu égard au retour d'objets matériels et plus anciens. Les modes de consommation numériques semblent en effet se diluer dans un cadre plus général d'interactions éclectiques avec la musique.

15Le cas du disque vinyle est particulièrement intéressant. Le support connait une véritable renaissance en ce début de xxi e siècle, ses ventes ont en effet doublé entre 2005 et 2010 (cf. IFPI 2011, 2012). David Hayes (2006) s'intéresse à l'attraction des adolescents pour le vinyle. Il conclut que ce mode de consommation particulier relève d'une volonté de résister aux industries musicales et aux principes postmodernes de consommation. Bien que ces conclusions soient sans sous doute surestimées par rapport à l'effort commercial consenti par l'industries pour commercialiser des albums en format vinyle, l'apport de Hayes est important pour montrer que cet intérêt pour le vinyle n'est pas qu'une question générationnelle. Plus récemment, Dominique Bartmanski et Ian Woodward (2013) ont souligné que cette renaissance est liée à son " iconicité " et sa " performativité ". Le son caractéristique du vinyle, la taille et l'esthétique des pochettes, ainsi que les gestes requis pour le jouer sont autant de facteurs qui expliquent l'attrait des auditeurs pour ce format.

16Cet intérêt grandissant pour les objets démontré par les études quantitatives se doit d'être analysé en rapport avec la variable de la vie quotidienne. En effet, quelles sont les raisons de la multiplication des interactions matérielles avec les supports et formats musicaux ? Ces questions ne peuvent trouver des réponses que par le développement d'une étude qualitative.

17Les résultats de ces enquêtes quantitatives (American Assembly 2012, IFPI 2011, 2012, UK Music 2009) sont confirmés par l'approche qualitative que j'ai menée, en 2010 et 2011 dans le Queensland (Australie), auprès de 24 auditeurs, âgés de 21 à 32 ans. Tous ceux qui sont cités dans cet article sont des étudiants. Le premier exemple est celui de Jonathan (23 ans, étudiant en Master), qui souligne la multiplicité de ses interactions avec la musique :

J : Si je ne veux qu'une chanson, je la télécharge sur iTunes. Si c'est un album qui a une signification particulière pour moi, ou une édition avec des bonus, comme par exemple lorsqu'ils ont sorti ces albums des Beatles remasterisés, dans ce cas j'achète le CD... Mais la plupart du temps, je ne veux que des albums et donc je les télécharge en torrent.
R.N. : Donc tu as des sources d'obtention différente en fonction de ce que tu veux ?
J :Oui, selon ce que je veux obtenir. Si je ne suis pas sûr d'un artiste, ou si je n'ai pas entendu l'album auparavant, je le télécharge [illégalement]. Mais il y a également eu beaucoup d'autres fois dans le passé où télécharger n'était pas une option et j'avais dû acheter un album entier quand je ne voulais qu'une seule chanson et que le reste de l'album ne serait pas bon... Mais ça tu ne le sais pas avant de l'avoir écouté.

18Jonathan obtient la musique qu'il veut écouter par différents procédés : téléchargement légal (sur iTunes), téléchargement illégal (sur Torrent) et par achat de CDs, selon son intérêt pour certains artistes ou albums. La profusion des options lui permet d'opérer des accès à la musique différenciés et de limiter le risque de devoir payer pour de la musique qu'il n'aime pas. Ses pratiques d'obtention sont donc graduelles (téléchargement d'une chanson, d'un album, puis achat d'un objet) ; son éclectisme technologique dépend de ses goûts musicaux mais également de la contextualisation de la musique.

19En effet, le second élément à prendre en considération est la somme des contextes d'écoute, qui explique la mobilisation d'un objet plutôt qu'un autre :

J. : D'habitude, c'est une distinction très fonctionnelle que je fais : si j'utilise mon ordinateur, je vais écouter de la musique parce que je n'ai pas envie de la rechercher sur mon téléphone. Si je suis en voiture, j'utilise mon iPhone parce qu'il y a une prise pour le recharger en même temps. Si je suis au travail, je n'ai pas mon ordinateur et je ne vais pas m'embarrasser avec mon téléphone, mais il y a la radio. Donc oui c'est très fonctionnel.

20Chaque activité quotidienne est régulée par un ensemble de pratiques dans lesquelles la musique se dissémine, grâce aux objets. Les supports musicaux que Jonathan utilise sont tous associés à un lieu, un moment et une activité particuliers. Ils prennent sens dans leur fonction accompagnatrice du quotidien. C'est ce que Jonathan confirme dans l'extrait suivant :

J'écoute la musique dans la salle de bain, généralement via mon Mac Book... Aussi dans la voiture, le transport public, j'aime avoir mes écouteurs parce que les gens sont irritants. Quand j'étudie également, parce que je suis facilement distrait, donc quelque chose doit m'enfermer dans le travail, c'est pourquoi j'écoute des choses comme la bande originale de " Battlestar Gallactica ", parce qu'il n'y pas de mots qui vont me distraire. J'écoute la musique au travail, généralement la radio [...], quand je suis en train de faire quelque chose qui attire ma concentration, ou encore quand je voyage.

21Chacune des pratiques d'écoute de Jonathan se trouve donc associée à différents éléments qui définissent la musique autant qu'ils sont définis par la musique. L'approche écologique qui souligne la perception musicale des individus tend donc à négliger la multiplication des contextes d'écoute en premier lieu, ainsi que l'importance de la technologie qui met en action ces pratiques. Les pratiques d'écoute représentent donc bien un assemblage, dans lequel les objets technologiques sont plus que de simples " médiations ".

22Enfin, l'éclectisme technologique et la multiplication des contextes d'écoute qui en résulte donnent lieu à des écoutes différenciées, comme c'est le cas pour Thom (32 ans, étudiant en thèse et musicien) dans l'exemple suivant :

R.N. :Concrètement, dans ta vie quotidienne, quand et comment écoutes-tu de la musique ?
T. : Dans les transports, c'est assez important d'avoir de la musique, donc j'en ai toujours. J'écoute souvent de la musique quand j'écris. J'écoute ma propre musique, forcément quand je la joue ou travaille dessus. J'essaie également de m'asseoir et d'écouter de la musique comme une activité en tant que telle, genre m'asseoir et écouter, surtout quand je suis excité parce que c'est un nouvel album. J'adore aussi écouter de la musique quand je lis des magazines ou des journaux. L'idée de pouvoir m'asseoir ou m'allonger sur mon lit, de mettre un disque et de lire un magazine, c'est comme ça que la musique peut devenir aussi agréable que possible.

23Selon les pratiques d'écoute et leur contexte, Thom porte différents niveaux d'attention à la musique. Les médiations musicales ont par conséquent un apport qui est également incertain et dépendent de l'attention et de la perception des individus. Bien que ce dernier point soit en accord avec l'approche écologique, il s'agit ici de mettre en avant le fait que ces médiations musicales sont " variantes ", elles ne font pas partie de ce que Clarke nomme les " invariants " des interactions musicales.

24En résumé, les pratiques quotidiennes d'écoute de la musique sont en rapport avec les objets technologiques utilisés et leur matérialité propre ; avec l'ensemble des médiations perçues par les individus au cours de l'interaction et avec les formes d'attention portée à la musique. L'assemblage de ces variables prend part à l'environnement sonore. La prochaine et dernière partie de cette note de recherche porte sur la définition de ce concept comme cadre théorique qui rend compte de ces interactions différenciées au quotidien.

25Le sociologue anglais Peter Martin (1995) parle du concept d'environnement sonore en rapport avec les évolutions technologiques de la musique enregistrée et le contrôle grandissant que les individus possèdent sur leurs pratiques d'écoute. Plus récemment, Trevor Pinch et Karin Bijsterveld ont introduit la notion " d'environnement sonique " dont ils donnent la définition suivante :

[L'environnement sonique] inclut l'environnement "naturel" des sons, comme le bruit des vagues sur une plage, mais aussi les compositions et les sculptures sonores qui emplissent les jardins avec des sons qui invitent les individus à écouter. (2004 : 642, traduction libre)

26En m'appuyant sur les apports de ces trois chercheurs, je m'attache à montrer comment la notion d'environnement sonore peut servir de modèle théorique pour rendre compte des interactions quotidiennes entre les individus et la musique.

27Ma définition de l'environnement sonore prend en considération les notions de contrôle, de sons qui composent un espace, mais également les médiations liées à ces espaces quotidiens, qu'il s'agisse de lieux publics ou de confinements individuels. Ainsi, une chambre ou un parc possèdent des médiations différentes. La musique, à travers les supports et formats d'écoute, accompagne les individus dans l'espace mais aussi dans le temps. Cela dit, la musique n'est ni cause, ni conséquence, mais simplement médiation interactionnelle. Véritable vecteur de régulation des états émotionnels (voir DeNora 2000), la musique se diffuse par les technologies qui permettent aux individus d'emmener les contenus avec eux et de les inscrire dans le temps et les espaces.

28En premier lieu, il convient de poser la notion d'environnement sonore comme étant inhérente à la vie quotidienne, et incertaine par définition. L'incertitude des interactions entre individus et musique est le fait d'une tension permanente entre le contrôle sur le contenu et les supports d'une part, et les affects musicaux résultant de la perception des médiations musicales d'autre part. Ainsi, un individu peut changer de contenu et/ou de support d'écoute en un geste et ainsi redéfinir son environnement sonore, ce qui change ensuite la nature des médiations et leur perception. La définition mutuelle de la musique et de l'environnement construit un rapport indissociable entre son et perception. L'affect musical surgit de cette interaction multidimensionnelle entre les individus, le contenant technologique et le contenu musical, et l'environnement.

29L'éclectisme technologique des individus est un moyen d'inscrire la musique dans différents environnements et de donner du sens aux espaces. Par exemple, dans l'extrait suivant (Christophe, 21 ans, étudiant en licence), la musique est mobilisée dans le but précis d'atteindre un état émotionnel particulier et donc de définir l'espace en conséquence :

Il y a une chanson que j'écoute toujours avant d'aller passer un examen. J'ai quatre ou cinq examens par semestre, parfois jusqu'à huit. Et j'écoute 'And the Boys' d'Angus et Julia Stone avant chaque examen, d'habitude trois ou quatre fois... Je fume, j'écoute, du pied je bats la mesure, histoire de faire monter mon niveau d'anxiété avant de commencer l'examen. Je dois me trouver à un niveau d'anxiété afin d'être meilleur au moment de l'exam'. Je peux aussi écouter cette chanson à d'autres moments et me sentir bien, mais avant un examen, ca va me faire sentir anxieux.

30Christophe précise qu'il doit atteindre un certain niveau d'anxiété afin de pouvoir réussir ses examens comme il l'entend. L'anxiété lui permet en effet de prêter attention à tous les détails et de réussir ses examens au mieux. Il définit son environnement sonore en utilisant son iPod, en écoutant une chanson et en adoptant des gestes corporels particuliers. Néanmoins, les aspirations originelles et les attentes placées dans l'écoute ne sont concluantes que si les médiations sont en adéquation avec celles-ci et permettent donc l'émergence de l'affect. C'est en considérant toutes formes de médiations qui entrent en compte dans l'interaction de la musique qu'il est possible de retranscrire la nature de l'affect musical. Evidemment les individus ont une perception limitée de leurs environnements, mais ce qu'ils perçoivent rentre en ligne de compte de la même manière que l'objet technologique utilisé et la musique écoutée.

31En mobilisant l'apport de Tim Dant (2008) sur la nature pragmatique des interactions avec des objets matériels, j'énonce que les interactions musicales prennent également leur sens dans l'instant même de l'interaction. Autrement dit, bien que la musique puisse avoir une signification plus globale et notamment en rapport avec des souvenirs ou des personnes, les pratiques d'écoute sont toujours une question d'instant. La notion d'environnement sonore comprend et confond toujours l'espace et le temps, car ce sont ces deux variables qui forment le moment de l'écoute et donc altèrent l'affect esthétique de la pratique. En inversant le point d'analyse vers la musique, il est clair que celle-ci constitue un outil dont les individus se servent pour faire sens des environnements et plus largement du quotidien. La musique assure donc la continuité et la cohérence de l'état émotionnel des individus. L'éclectisme technologique et la diffusion de la musique à travers les pratiques quotidiennes soulignent la nature sémantique des espaces (cf. les analyses de Schatzki 1996, Thrift 2006). En effet, le sens et la définition des espaces sont inhérents à l'affect des interactions entre individus et musiques. À travers ce qui est souvent décrit comme une pratique isolatrice (cf. Simun 2009), l'écoute personnelle de musique est plutôt une pratique de définition des environnements quotidiens. Dans les discours des auditeurs de musique, l'emphase se porte sur l'affect cognitif de la musique plutôt que sur la négation de l'aspect social des espaces.

3 Cf. les recensions (ici et ici) que l'auteur a faites de ses deux derniers ouvrages, dans ce numéro (...)

32L'intérêt de saisir les interactions avec la musique à travers la notion d'environnement sonore réside dans la vision compréhensive que ce cadre théorique permet. Anahid Kassabian (2002 ; 2013) 3 remarque en effet que les sociétés contemporaines sont caractérisées par l'ubiquité de la musique. Si les individus sont confrontés en permanence à des sons et à de la musique qui définissent les environnements qu'ils traversent et occupent dans leur vie quotidienne, alors les objets technologiques sont logiquement mis en abîme comme étant des possibilités de contrôle sur ces mêmes environnements sonores. La tension permanente entre contrôle et incertitude est définie par la volonté de saisir ce qu'Ola Stockfelt appelle la " musique adéquate " (1997). En effet, le choix de la musique et le contrôle sur les objets permettent d'identifier la musique qui convient au contexte et à l'état émotionnel, comme le montre l'exemple de Laura (23 ans, étudiante en médecine) :

Il y a certaines musiques avec lesquelles j'étudie mieux. Je ne choisis pas des chansons sur lesquelles je vais me mettre à chanter parce que ça me distrait. La musique avec laquelle j'étudie est surtout instrumentale. Ensuite, j'écoute de la musique quand je prends le train... Mais tout dépend de ce que je fais dans le train, si j'étudie ou non. Si ce n'est pas le cas, j'écoute de la musique plus excitante.

33L'exemple de Laura révèle que la recherche de la " musique adéquate " émane d'une stratégie de contrôle et d'une volonté de définir son environnement sonore, dans le but de s'accompagner d'une musique lui permettant de définir sa pratique. Par habitude, elle sait avec quelles musiques elle étudie le mieux, encore faut-il que ces musiques fassent sens et soient adéquates dans le moment même de l'écoute.

34Au final, toutes les pratiques d'écoute du quotidien se définissent par le contrôle (des objets et du contenu) et l'incertitude (des environnements). Les individus développent des usages de la musique en rapport avec les médiations qu'ils rencontrent et avec leurs activités quotidiennes. Ainsi, écouter de la musique énergétique le matin sur l'iPod sur le trajet du travail, ou de la musique plus calme le soir sur disque vinyle dans le salon sont deux exemples de pratiques d'écoute qui correspondent à différents niveaux de contrôle et d'incertitude, et à la volonté de définir l'environnement sonore par la musique adéquate.

35Par conséquent, analyser les interactions quotidiennes avec la musique à l'aide de la notion d'environnements sonores construit la musique non pas comme un langage à interpréter (et donc susceptible de mauvaises interprétations), mais plutôt comme un événement en rapport avec les médiations qui définissent les pratiques d'écoute. Contrairement à l'approche écologique, l'approche sociologique des environnements sonores est phénoménologique dans la mesure où la définition de la musique est en rapport avec sa situation. Le projet situationniste de ce cadre théorique est par essence relativiste mais ne demeure pas moins attaché à saisir la dimension esthétique de l'écoute, dans son adéquation à un temps et un espace.

36L'étude des interactions quotidiennes entre les individus et la musique demeure un défi théorique important pour la sociologie de la culture afin de comprendre le rôle de la musique dans la vie quotidienne et dans nos sociétés contemporaines. Alors que l'approche écologique, favorisée notamment par la musicologie, ne permet pas de rentre compte de la multiplicité des subjectivités individuelles, la sociologie a un terrain à occuper et un discours pertinent à offrir sur la réception de la musique.

37En adoptant une perspective interactionniste qui considère les objets, il est possible de prendre en compte l'assemblage des contenus musicaux, des objets qui les jouent et des médiations des environnements sonores. À l'ère du numérique et de l'éclectisme technologique, la question de l'écoute de la musique devient également une question matérielle. La mobilisation de différents supports et formats d'écoute témoignent de la volonté des individus de s'accompagner de la musique à travers leurs activités quotidiennes, et de différencier leurs interactions avec celle-ci. Il est donc essentiel de placer ces questions de matérialité au cœur des interactions et assemblages musicaux.

38A travers cette note de recherche, j'ai développé la notion d'environnement sonore afin de rendre compte de la complexité des rapports quotidiens qu'entretiennent les individus avec la musique. En offrant une perspective compréhensive et interactionniste, je démontre que la musique se doit d'être considérée comme un objet esthétique qui existe en rapport avec son environnement d'écoute. Autrement dit, les propriétés sonores de la musique ne se révèlent que dans un contexte d'écoute et une situation précise. La tension qui existe entre contrôle de l'environnement sonore et incertitude des médiations et affects altère la perception des individus sur la musique qu'ils écoutent.

39Le cadre théorique des environnements sonores permet de rendre compte de la complexité des interactions, autant que des évolutions technologiques des objets musicaux et des pratiques des individus. Le glissement sémantique vers la notion d'environnement révèle un intérêt croissant pour les dimensions spatio-temporelles qui contribuent à la définition de la musique. Evidemment cette note de recherche est principalement introductive et la notion des environnements sonores se devra d'être développée et exemplifiée ailleurs.

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Consommer la musique à l'ère du numérique : vers une analyse des en...

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This review article develops a qualitative sociological analysis of the consumption of music in the digital age. Through a scrutiny of everyday sound environments, I argue that both 'ecological' and "constructivist" analyses are limited in the age of contemporary technological eclecticism that defines the reception of music.

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Spotify will spend nearly $450 million on Google's cloud over 3 years

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Spotify will spend nearly $450 million on Google's cloud over 3 years

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Spotify is committed to spending close to half a billion dollars on Google's public cloud services over the next three years, the music streaming service disclosed on Tuesday.

According to its updated share sale prospectus, Spotify signed a deal earlier this year to spend a minimum of approximately 365 million euros ($447 million) on the Google Cloud Platform during the first three years of the service.

Last month, when it initially filed to go public, Spotify said it was moving more data to Google's cloud, but the company didn't say how much it was paying for those resources.

Google's cloud business has grown in the past two years under the leadership of CEO Diane Greene and now brings in more than $1 billion per quarter. Amazon Web Services still leads, generating more than $5 billion in revenue in the fourth quarter, and Microsoft pulled in more than $5 billion in revenue, though that category includes the Azure public cloud as well as services like Dynamics 365 and Office 365 business subscriptions.

The Spotify relationship is big for Google Cloud, but Snap is bigger.

Last year Snap said it would spend $2 billion over five years on Google public cloud services, or about $400 million per year. In other words, Snap is contributing as much as 10 percent of the $1 billion or more that Google is getting on a quarterly basis.

Using the current exchange rate, Spotify will be paying Google around $149 million per year, or $37.25 million per quarter. That works out to about 3.7 percent of Google's quarterly cloud revenue figure.

Before adopting Google cloud, Spotify was a prominent AWS customer. A Spotify case study is still listed on the AWS website.

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Spotify will spend nearly $450 million on Google's cloud over 3 years

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Spotify is committed to spending close to half a billion dollars on Google's public cloud services over the next three years, the music streaming service disclosed on Tuesday. According to its updated share sale prospectus, Spotify signed a deal earlier this year to spend a minimum of approximately 365 million euros ($447 million) on the Google Cloud Platform during the first three years of the service.

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Spotify, Netflix and now shared driverless cars: why don’t we own anything anymore?

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Spotify, Netflix and now shared driverless cars: why don’t we own anything anymore?

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For decades, the answer to all our collective self-doubt, anxiety, and existential sadness has been to buy, buy, buy. This was particularly evident during the Nineties and Noughties, which, in terms of business, were all about mass production, mass consumption and, inevitably, mass accumulation.

Companies targeted the general public with the message that without owning their latest fad - no matter how trivial it appeared - we wouldn't be as productive, as beautiful, and, perhaps most frightening of all, as happy. And although material objects took up physical space, they certainly didn't fill the metaphorical void.

It didn't take long for artists to respond to the socio-economic ennui. Movies, in particular - from The Truman Show to, more strangely and recently, Disney's Wall-E - critiqued mass consumption and consequent possession-hoarding. Literature, too - perhaps most famously Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho, which was later adapted for film - studied the monstrous nature of hypercapitalism and the beasts it produces.

Despite being some of the most visually provocative commerce-related works to date (and despite anti-capitalist cinema becoming a genre in itself), they didn't stop our needless purchase-making and endless consumption.

Aside from the self-proclaimed "minimalists", that is. In a rally against the monopoly of McDonald's, malls, and mass consumption, the reactionary lifestyle movement arose somewhat organically. A typical modern minimalist isn't an artist with a penchant for sparse work, but instead somebody who, in an attempt to get back-to-basics, threw out unneeded wares and pared down to the absolute necessities. For their bodies: a few basic shirts and trousers, a basic pair of shoes. In their households: a dining table, some chairs, a fold-up bed. No excess. Minimalists professed that this alternative way of living made them feel happier, and by unshackling themselves and their homes of all the stuff they'd accumulated over the years, they consequently felt far freer. Maybe not free in the absolute sense of the word, but freer nonetheless.

Fast forward a few years to 2018 and minimalism has become something of an online trend, with people sharing tips on ways to declutter and downsize. It has become a lifestyle. We go on digital detoxes and follow the anti-clutter guru Marie Kondo. These changes go beyond the physical and into the digital world - old files, data, and the hundreds of undeleted emails you have are perceived to be just as burdensome as the unused blender stashed in the cupboard. It is mindfulness over matter.

Inevitably, commercial businesses are buying into the vogue of reduction, too: their message for consumers is to no longer to purchase and own wares, but to subscribe to and rent them instead. Ownership - of music, films, cars, and even office space - is, apparently, so last decade. And what you do own, you should "share": put your flat on Airbnb, for example, or rent your car to Uber or Lyft.

"Flexibility", "choice" and "ease" have become the tropes of modern marketing. The likes of Netflix, Spotify, Hulu, Apple, and Amazon proclaim that our lives could be simpler, smoother, if we trade ownership for non-permanence. And it's not just entertainment-orientated businesses, either: even the way we travel has begun to fundamentally change. With London's Santander bike programme, Uber taxis, and, in future, shared self-driving cars, the rent-on-demand and subscription model has superseded outright buying.

It's not like we're paying any less for the inadequacy: we're still handing over a sizeable chunk of money every month to a small handful of wealthy, unaccountable businesses. Whoever we're subscribing to and renting from haven't struck gold so much as a goldmine: they earn more while handing over less.

The culture has shifted, in a subtle and violent way, from one of accumulating too much to one approaching a forced minimalism, which is just as expensive, competitive and decadent as before. Perhaps even the minimalists who appear on Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things (which is currently, and somewhat ironically, streaming on Netflix) wouldn't agree with everybody being strong-armed into a way of life where we are progressively losing more and paying more for the privilege.

Thom James is a writer based in London.

This International Women's Day, I decided to vary my usual routine - it's hard to find a coven on a bus route from south London - and went to a meeting of Labour women. At the end, they passed around a sign pledging their support for all-women shortlists and proudly posed for photos. I started preparing my excuses, because something indefinable about all-women shortlists (AWS) has always bothered me.

I know what bothers some other people: they work. Labour's decision to use them in 1997, an election in which the party gained 146 seats, meant that the Commons dropped from more than 90 per cent male to 82 per cent overnight. Cultural change followed. In committee rooms and party meetings, women found themselves having a genuinely new experience: not being the only woman in the room. That made arguing for better childcare a less lonely task, and Harriet Harman's strong support among the women's Parliamentary Labour Party gave her the power to champion the Equality Act in the dying days of the Brown government.

The dull argument that AWS would lead to mediocre women being selected to make up the numbers is hard to support. First, many of the most impressive Labour MPs - Angela Rayner, Jess Phillips, Lisa Nandy - were selected from all-women lists. Second, there is no shortage of mediocre men in the Commons. The Tory party also seems quite able to elect mediocre women without needing positive discrimination to do so.

It was only by looking somewhere else entirely that I've managed to crystallise my worries about all-women shortlists. In the past few years, London theatres have undergone an overdue reckoning with their cultural elitism, facing pressure to expand gender, racial and class diversity among their writers and directors. Who makes art matters, because we tend to create in our own image, and to see the dominant gaze as a universal one. Men write about "the American dream" or the "state of the nation"; the struggles of male protagonists embody the "human condition"; Everyman is. . . well, a man. Art by women and minorities is usually seen as articulating a more narrow experince.

However, the response to this (correctly identified) problem has been, often, a call to introduce quotas: gender-balanced casting across a season, an equal number of male and female writers and directors, and so on. Artistic directors who haven't immediately responded have been portrayed as dinosaurs.

But here's the thing. Say your industry is dominated by men, which often means white, privately educated Oxbridge men. Institute a gender quota without tackling the underlying issues and you'll largely fill the slots with white, privately educated Oxbridge childless women (hi, call me!). And that's not bad, as long as it's not the end of the conversation.

Handing a golden ticket to the women who can behave most like privileged men is a very partial answer to the problem, but it massages the figures wonderfully. Similarly, using Oxford and Cambridge as a blunt indicator of privilege ignores the fact many working-class pupils choose these universities specifically to offset the advantages of their richer, private-school peers.

Overall, I worry that we give more credit to people who do the shiny stuff and take the resulting lap of honour than those who ask the really tough questions, and argue for slower action to reform structures. This allows movements such as feminism to be co-opted as a branch of marketing: just last week, I listened to a studio executive explain that the new Lara Croft film was the most "badass" yet, and realised that I was supposed to be grateful. As if watching an attractive woman in a sweaty vest kick people in the groin would, by some mysterious trickle-down effect, solve the pay gap.

Too often, the great "enwokening" of the arts has led to a shallow, surface engagement with diversity. And that's had unfortunate side effects. Women and minorities get pushed forward too fast with inadequate support, and some of them fail. Reactionaries take this as confirmation that they weren't very good anyway. (In business, there's a related phenomenon known as the glass cliff: failing companies bring in a woman on the basis that things can't get any worse.) Those promoted under this system are haunted by the idea they were token appointments. This turbocharges the impostor syndrome that marginalised people are more likely to suffer in the first place.

The best place to solve inequality isn't at the end. It's at the beginning. Don't just ask for 50/50 casting; ask for a crèche. Don't hand-wring vaguely about the lack of working-class voices in the arts. Start an outreach programme. Introduce training schemes, paid at a level that allows those whose parents can't subsidise their early careers to participate. Don't airlift out the most privileged members of a marginalised group and congratulate yourself. Address the material conditions that lead to disadvantage, because racial inequality is inextricably linked to economic inequality. It's the same with disability. Ultimately, there's an easy way to tell if an anti-discrimination measure will be effective: it will cost money.

In the case of women, "material conditions" often - but not always - means biology. When I wrote about childlessness and politics in 2014, it was a shock to realise how many senior female politicians don't have children, whether by choice or circumstances. And those who do often benefit from a partner whose career has taken a back seat - such as the husband of New Zealand's Labour prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, who will be a stay-at-home dad to their first child, due this summer. Calling for female representation without addressing the burden of unpaid care actually makes things worse for most mothers.

And that, finally, is my niggling unease both with quotas and all-women shortlists. Used glibly and unthinkingly, they encourage a version of "teaching to the test", disguising the reasons they were needed in the first place. "Better than nothing" is not the same as good enough.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She regularly appears on BBC Radio 4's Week in Westminster and the News Quiz, and BBC1's Sunday Politics.

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Spotify, Netflix and now shared driverless cars: why don't we own anything anymore?

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For decades, the answer to all our collective self-doubt, anxiety, and existential sadness has been to buy, buy, buy. This was particularly evident during the Nineties and Noughties, which, in terms of business, were all about mass production, mass consumption and, inevitably, mass accumulation.

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Google's open-source neural synth is creating totally new sounds

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Google's open-source neural synth is creating totally new sounds

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What do you get when you cross a sitar, a marimba, a dog and a car? Allow Google's neural synthesiser to play it to you, with hundreds of variations in timbre, pitch and tone. The company's new plaything, known as the NSynth Super, enables musicians to use machine learning to produce never-before-heard sounds and paw at the limits of computer-enhanced creativity.

The work is part of Magenta, a research project that sits under Google Brain - Google's deep learning artificial intelligence unit - which explores the role of machine learning in creating art and music. The NSynth research was first detailed in May 2017 and now Google is open-sourcing the hardware specs and interface to let anyone hack together their own high-tech instrument. Google describes the Nysnth Super as an "open source experimental instrument".

Previous forays into artificially intelligent music have generally involved generating melodies to supply missing parts: people have played duets with computers, or an orchestra's missing instruments have had their parts filled in. The NSynth algorithm takes things further by letting musicians create totally new sounds. Using deep neural networks, it learns the characteristics of different instruments and is able to blend these parts to form new wholes.

The algorithm can also discern what makes each sound unique. "In principle we have two sounds - the sound of a snare and the sound of a bass. The algorithm creates all the sound that exists between, but it's not just mixing them together - it actually understands the quality of the sounds, so in the case of the snare and the bass it will produce a sound in between, that will somehow have the attack of the snare, with the hit, but it also has the harmonics of the bass," says João Wilbert, creative technology lead at Google's Creative Lab in London. This ability to preserve defining qualities produces genuinely unusual sounds.

The original algorithm was trained on over 300,000 instrument sounds, making it by far the largest dataset of musical notes publicly available. Magenta built NSynth using TensorFlow - Google's machine learning technology, which it opensourced back in 2015 - and all their models and tools are also open source and available on GitHub.

"How do we make it accessible without needing loads of code to understand it?" says team lead Peter Semple. In the past, the same team built Project Bloks, a hands-on coding activity which uses building blocks to harness kids' tactility and get them building and sequencing technological structures.

Here, Wilbert and creative technologist Zebedee Pedersen wanted to build a tool that anyone could use. Both Wilbert and Pedersen make and play their own music, and designed the NSynth Super to be cheap to build - it can be constructed from a few sheets of perspex, some 3D printed knobs at each corner, and a Raspberry Pi.

Users can upload their own recorded 'sound pack' of 16 pre-processed source sounds and let the algorithm do its work as they drag their fingers across the screen to create new acoustics, somewhere within the matrix of the four source sounds at each corner, using the dials to define the sound space represented in the touchpad. This touchpad is in turn represented on an analogue screen with a map of dots that light up in response to your finger's movements. It's been designed to fit in with existing music-making methods, so you can plug in a keyboard, say, using a MIDI controller.

Pedersen says the algorithm lends sounds their own particular grainy qualities and that in their experience musicians enjoyed being able to mess around with the limitations as well as the new possibilities. Adding a strange new texture to a sound as classic as the piano, for instance, was something the NSynth opened up. In the future, say Wilbert and Pedersen, they hope to be able to build the technology to create in-between sounds in real time - but it's not there yet, and would need to interpolate sounds at a very high speed.

Ultimately, the purpose of the project is to get humans and machines collaborating, not competing. "We don't want to create something that generates the music, the notes themselves, because that's actually what a musician does. We wanted to give them the complementary part," says Wilbert.

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Google's open-source neural synth is creating totally new sounds

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What do you get when you cross a sitar, a marimba, a dog and a car? Allow Google's neural synthesiser to play it to you, with hundreds of variations in timbre, pitch and tone. The company's new plaything, known as the NSynth Super, enables musicians to use machine learning to produce never-before-heard sounds and paw at the limits of computer-enhanced creativity.

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Digital Journeys 2014: Understanding Music Consumption in the Digital Age

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Digital Journeys 2014: Understanding Music Consumption in the Digital Age

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Digital Journeys 2014: Understanding Music Consumption in the Digital Age

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"The personal numbers dehumanize us; in a society increasingly run by algorithms, we are, inevitably, beginning to function like algorithms ourselves. "

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Ever since I joined Twitter, nearly seven years ago, I've wrestled with what has always felt like a shameful interest in all those prominently displayed numbers. I've evaluated people I don't know on the basis of their follower counts, judged the merit of tweets according to how many likes and retweets they garnered, and felt the rush of being liked or retweeted by someone with a large following. These metrics, I know, are largely irrelevant; since when does popularity predict quality? Yet, almost against my will, they exert a pull on me. Twitter trains its users to see numbers as currency, like so many lab rats craving reward pellets.

So, it's worth asking: What if the numbers disappeared? How would it feel to use Twitter then? These questions recently drove Benjamin Grosser, an artist and assistant professor of new media at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, to create the Twitter Demetricator, a browser extension that removes all visible metrics from the platform. It is Grosser's latest foray into refashioning the social-media experience. In 2012, he developed a similar tool-part political statement, part art project-for Facebook. It erased every statistic from users' screens; they could no longer see the number of likes that any posts, including their own, received, or the number of friends that other users had. Grosser built this first Demetricator in reaction to his own experience of social-media use. "There were times when I was more focused on the numbers than the content itself," he told The Atlantic, in 2014. Others seem to have been equally concerned about this habit of mind. In the six years since the extension came out, it has been downloaded tens of thousands of times.

Twitter, perhaps even more than Facebook, runs on its users' obsession-witting or not-with metrics. For the past few weeks, I have participated in a beta test of Grosser's new Demetricator, which is being released to the general public today. And I have found that it has greatly altered my experience of Twitter, in both predictable and surprising ways.

To test the Twitter Demetricator, I began by activating an oversized toggle switch that hung down from my address bar, asking whether I wanted to "Hide the metrics." Sliding the switch from "No" to "Yes" was like throwing an old-fashioned main power lever in a mechanical room. I saw a blank appear below my name as the three critical metrics-"Tweets," "Following," "Followers"-vanished. I felt an eerie calm: my paltry follower count was no longer there to taunt me. There was no number to worry about increasing. Below each tweet that now arrived in my feed, the "Reply," "Retweet," and "Like" icons were denuded of counts. If the tweet had received at least one of these, a very small dot was present in place of the number.

At first, I craved the dots; they were a lifeline to my old experience. I wanted, desperately, to know what everyone else was thinking, by which I mean that I wanted to know what was popular. But, within a short time, I found even the dots to be intrusive. The notion of knowing whether even one person had liked or retweeted something felt not just superfluous but also disruptive to what had become a serene flow of information. The cleaner interface allowed for a clearer mind. If I went to someone's profile, I could still see the list of "Followers you know." This, to me, reinforced the idea that the Demetricator was for fostering connection. It didn't needlessly strip away information about people, only numbers.

Within a few days of installing the extension, I could still remember who had large followings and who didn't, but the memories were fading. A few times, I gave in to an irresistible impulse to slide the toggle back to "Off." If I wasn't familiar with the author of a particular tweet, I needed to know who that person was (the "who" defined, again, by popularity). But, by the second and third week, that urge dimmed and, ultimately, disappeared.

I was so focussed on the relief of not seeing follower, like, and retweet counts that it took me a while to notice the absence of another metric that the Demetricator had removed: the age labels. When tweets were more than a day old, the date was listed, which I found helpful for perspective. Otherwise, though, the hours, minutes, and seconds were gone. It occurred to me that, unless some event happens that makes granular time really matter to regular people (a natural disaster, for example), or unless you happen to be a reporter on the breaking-news beat, that metric has exceedingly small, even potentially negative, value. Without it, I was liberated from the perpetual low-level panic induced by a false sense of urgency. Grosser told me that he expects this particular design choice to be controversial among users, but, once I got used to it, it revealed itself as a core value of the extension.

After three weeks of using the Demetricator, the nature of Twitter, for me, changed completely. In some ways, it became lonelier. Part of the fun had been feeling like part of a crowd, seeing a joke or an idea or an observation become something that fifty people, or fifty thousand, could share. But I'm willing to accept the loss of this superficial sense of community for all the gains. Not seeing any numbers at all made content itself the king. I came to appreciate, disconcertingly, that knowing what was popular before had not only often distorted but also sometimes completely overtaken my experience. With the numbers gone, I realized that they, indeed, had forced a sort of automated experience, guiding and constraining my behavior. This robotization of users, largely directed by the dominance of metrics, is, of course, endemic to social media as a whole. In a recent interview with Splitsider titled " How Facebook Is Killing Comedy," Matt Klinman, a writer for the comedy production company Funny or Die, touched on this same point, lamenting that "a flattened internet is a predictable internet, and a flattened person is a predictable person."

For all the emancipation that the Demetricator offered, one thing nagged at me: even though I couldn't see any metrics, I knew that other people could still see mine. I began to wish for a master switch for the entire platform. Once the numbers are gone, one can't help but question: Why were they there in the first place? And what would social media be like if they weren't there at all, for anyone?

Part of the answer to the first question, Grosser said, is that a consumerist, capitalist society like ours is "already primed to evaluate things from a metric perspective." This mind-set is particularly strong among the programmers and designers who build social-media platforms. The type of person who tends to be a high-level coder at a top tech firm, Grosser said, usually got great grades, attended a premier university, and now competes for bragging rights by trying to log the longest hours of anyone at the office. These people thrive in numbers-focussed environments. Perhaps it's predestined that their world view would infect the user interfaces they create.

But the choice to display metrics is not only a by-product of software engineers' psyches; it is also, of course, a deliberate decision. You may tell yourself that you don't care about the statistics, but tech companies know that when you are forced to see them, it is impossible not to care. I am currently writing a book about self-consciousness in the modern mediated era, and my experience with the Demetricator vividly exemplifies what my research suggests-that the ultimate function of Twitter, like nearly all social-media platforms, is to make its users insecure, because insecurity compels engagement. And nothing turns up the dial on our insecurity like viewing our communications, and ourselves, as mere numbers. This gamification of our social interactions is a component of what Sean Parker, the founding president of Facebook, and one of the leaders of the recent whistle-blower movement in tech, was referring to when he spoke of a " social-validation feedback loop." By making you constantly, reductively think about others, your actions, and yourself as numbers, these platforms insure that you remain permanently self-conscious.

The Demetricator works in an all-encompassing way only for those who are both motivated enough to make their own experience healthier and secure enough to not care what others think of them (a population, based on the available evidence, that one must assume is quite small). As a result, the idea of Twitter adopting any of the features of Grosser's extension may seem absurd on its face. Is it, though? Sure, the social-media-influencer economy would implode, but, for just about all of us, that's a net gain. Grosser told me that, counter to Silicon Valley's prevailing wisdom, some of the users of his Facebook extension actually increased their engagement on the platform because their experience was so improved. With a demetricated Twitter, companies would still know all the analytics internally, so they could still charge the same amount to advertisers. Maybe businesses, and users hell-bent on monitoring the popularity of their accounts or various posts, could gain access to their analytics, too-but the data would be private, not publicly displayed.

What is it that we really want out of social media? Grosser's renegade experiment forces users and designers alike to acknowledge that the visual display of personal metrics can lead to an experience that is the antithesis of the " meaningful" interaction that Twitter and other platforms ostensibly strive for. The personal numbers dehumanize us; in a society increasingly run by algorithms, we are, inevitably, beginning to function like algorithms ourselves. It's going to take top-down, systemic changes to thwart that slide on a grand scale. Removing visible metrics shouldn't be an extension; it should be a system upgrade.
An earlier version of this article misidentified the subject of the Splitsider interview. It was Klinman, not Funny or Die's C.E.O., Mike Farah.

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Ever since I joined Twitter, nearly seven years ago, I've wrestled with what has always felt like a shameful interest in all those prominently displayed numbers. I've evaluated people I don't know on the basis of their follower counts, judged the merit of tweets according to how many likes and retweets they garnered, and felt the rush of being liked or retweeted by someone with a large following.

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“Why did I leave social media?” French artist Thierry Fournier presents a 32 minute video series of people who have spontaneously decided to abandon or disable their accounts on Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat as they are too harmful and evil distractors.

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Sometimes the online world reveals unsuspected parallel dimensions. This is an unknown restyle of Neural independently (and secretly as we never knew about it) made by NY-based Motion and Graphic Designer, Clarke Blackham. Very nicely made, perhaps only a bit glossier for the magazine's line, it testifies once more how even your most familiar outcomes can have another life somewhere else.

The value of craft after software sounds rampant sometimes, expressing the freedom of escaping repetitive taps and clicks to accomplish some assumed tasks. Mixing media, electricity, electronics, mechanics and inert objects Graham Dunning has realised a structured track/performance/open script in his " Mechanical Techno: Ghost in the Machine Music." More than a proof of concept a machine music declination.

Isn't ASCII Art a perfect form of "graffiti" in 2010s? The 8-bit aesthetics is among the strongest visual references connecting the analogue recent past with the omni-digital present, so why not adopt it to finally have some public art embedded in the present? In Varberg, Sweden, 2016, the GOTO80 crew (feat: Karin Andersson) did it, choosing (not by accident) the Mo Soul Amiga-font.

Minority Report comes closer... Three huge screens at Birmingham New Street railway station are scanning passers-by and play advertisements accordingly. http://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/midlands-news/new-street-station-advertising-screens-9920400

"Why did I leave social media?" French artist Thierry Fournier presents a 32 minute video series of people who have spontaneously decided to abandon or disable their accounts on Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat as they are too harmful and evil distractors. This seems to cause a rebirth, full of new cognitive faculties, lots of time, great emotions. However this work has a paradoxical narrative: these testimonies have not been collected "offline" but they are a simple sequence of public Youtube videos made by those who made this hard decision. Why quit social media by declaring it on a social media? The installation is designed around this vicious circle, with a symbolic and meaningful aesthetic proposal. In fact the selection of videos are projected on a small round mirror, the type usually dedicated to face care, which reflects the images onto the wall of the exhibition space. This dual reflection mechanism physically and ironically represents a paradox. Exposing oneself to social media seems to be a process of validation and definitive awareness of the decisions taken, moving the plane of consciousness from an intimate and individual plane (the bathroom mirror) to that of overexposure to others (the Youtube window). Chiara Ciociola

Thierry Fournier - I quit

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Sometimes the online world reveals unsuspected parallel dimensions. This is an unknown restyle of Neural independently (and secretly as we never knew about it) made by NY-based Motion and Graphic Designer, Clarke Blackham. Very nicely made, perhaps only a bit glossier for the magazine's line, it testifies once more how even your most familiar outcomes can have another life somewhere else.

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"Facebook destroys the real reason we began using social media in the first place – human connection."

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Facebook is using us. It is actively giving away our information. It is creating an echo chamber in the name of connection. It surfaces the divisive and destroys the real reason we began using social media in the first place - human connection.

It is a cancer.

I've begun the slow process of weaning myself off of the platform by methodically running a script that will delete my old content. And there's a lot. There are likes and shares. There are long posts I wrote to impress my friends. There are thousands of WordPress notifications that tell the world what I'm doing. In fact, I would wager I use Facebook more to broadcast my ego than interact with real humans. And I suspect that most of us are in a similar situation.

There is a method to my madness. I like Facebook Messenger and I like that Facebook is now a glorified version of OAuth. It's a useful tool when it is stripped of its power. However, when it is larded with my personal details it is a weapon and a liability.

Think about it: any posts older than about a week are fodder for bots and bad actors. Posts from 2016? 2017? Why keep them? No one will read them, no one cares about them. Those "You and Joe have known each other for five years" auto-posts are fun but does anyone care? Ultimately you've created the largest dossier on yourself and you've done it freely, even gleefully. This dossier reflects your likes, your dislikes, your feelings, and political leanings. It includes clear pictures of your face from all angles, images of your pets and family, and details your travels. You are giving the world unfettered access to your life. It's wonderful to imagine that this data will be used by a potential suitor who will fall in love with your street style. It's wonderful to imagine you will scroll through Facebook at 80 and marvel at how you looked at the turn of the century. It's wonderful to imagine that Facebook is a place to share ideas, dreams, and hopes, a human-to-human connection engine that gives more than it takes.

None of that will happen.

Facebook is a data collection service for those who want to sell you products. It is the definitive channel to target you based on age, sex, geographic location, political leanings, interests, and marital status. It's an advertiser's dream and it is wildly expensive in terms of privacy lost and cash spent to steal that privacy. It is the perfect tool for marketers, a user-generated paradise that is now run by devils.

Will you delete Facebook? Probably not. Will I? I'm working on it. I've already been deleting old tweets after realizing that border police and potential employers may use what I write publicly against me. I'm clearing out old social media accounts and, as I mentioned before, deleting old Facebook posts, thus ensuring that I will no longer be a target for companies like Cambridge Analytica. But we love our social media, don't we? The power it affords. The feeling of connection. In the absence of human interaction we cling to whatever dark simulacrum is available. In the absence of the Town Square we talk to ourselves. In the absence of love and understanding we join the slow riot of online indifference.

When Travis Kalanick led his ride-sharing company down the dark path to paranoia, bro culture, and classist rantings we reacted by deleting the app. We didn't want to do business with that particular brand of company. Yet we sit idly by while Facebook sells us out and its management pummels and destroys all competition.

I wish it didn't have to be this way. There is plenty of good in these platforms but the dangers far outweigh the benefits. Try to recall the last time you were thankful for social media. I can. It happened twice. First, it happened when I posted on my "wall" a eulogy for my father who died in January. The outpouring of support was heartening in a dark time. It was wonderful to see friends and acquaintances tell me their own stories, thereby taking the sting out of my own. But months later that good feeling is gone, replaced by ads for fancy shoes and political rants. Out of the Facebook swamp sometimes surfaces a pearl. But it sinks just as quickly.

One more sad example: I found out, accidentally, that my friend's wife died. It appeared on my feed as if placed there by some divine hand and I was thankful it surfaced. It beat out videos of Mister Rogers saying inspiring things and goofy pictures of Trump. It beat out ads and rants and questions about the best sushi restaurant in Scranton. The stark announcement left me crying and breathless. There it was in black and blue, splashed across her page: she was gone. There was the smiling photo of her two little children and there was the outpouring of grief under these once innocuous photos. Gone, it said. She was gone. I found out from her wall where her memorial service would be held and I finally reached back out to my old friend to try to comfort him in his grief. Facebook, in those two instances, worked.

But Facebook isn't the only thing that can give us that feeling of connectedness. We've had it for centuries.

Facebook simply replaced the tools we once used to tell the world of our joys and sorrows and it replaced them with cheap knock-offs that make us less connected, not more. Decades ago, on one coal-fogged winter morning in Krakow, Poland where I was living, I passed Kościół św. Wojciecha with its collection of nekrologi - necrologies - posted on a board in front of the church. There you saw the names of the dead - and sometimes the names of the newly born - and it was there you discovered what was happening in your little corner of the world. The church wasn't far from the central square - the Rynek - and I walked there thinking about the endless parade of humanity that had walked across those cobbles, stopping for a moment in their hustle at the church yard to see who had died. I stood in the crisp air, flanked by centuries old brickwork, and imagined who once populated this place. This was the place you met your friends and your future partners. It was there you celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. It was there, among other humans, you told the world the story of your life, but told it slant. You witnessed kindnesses and cruelties, you built a world entire based on the happenings in a few square miles.

No more. Or, at least, those places are no longer available to most of us.

We've moved past the superstitions and mythologies of the past. Tools like Facebook were designed to connect us to the world, giving us an almost angelic view of daily happenstance. We replaced the churchyard with the "timeline." But our efforts failed. We are still as closed, still full of superstition, as we were a hundred years ago. We traded a market square for the Internet but all of the closed-mindedness and cynicism came with it. We still disparage the outsider, we still rant against invisible enemies, and we still keep our friends close and fear what lies beyond our door. Only now we have the whole world on which to reflect our terror.

It doesn't have to be this way. Maybe some day we'll get the tools we need to interact with the world. Maybe they're already here and we just don't want to use them.

Until we find them, however, it's probably better for us to delete the ones we use today.

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Facebook is using us. It is actively giving away our information. It is creating an echo chamber in the name of connection. It surfaces the divisive and destroys the real reason we began using social media in the first place - human connection. It is a cancer.

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Snapchat’s Map Explore feature will let you know when your friends are hanging out without you

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Snapchat’s Map Explore feature will let you know when your friends are hanging out without you

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Snap is introducing a new feature called Map Explore today that will alert and update users about what's happening on their Snap Map. Snap says the travel and location updates will automatically appear on users' Snap Maps when friends opt to share their location. The feature will also show Explore updates for Our Story snaps, including breaking news and other events from around the world.

The new feature is an easier way for users to explore content on Snapchat based on location, which is a nifty tool if you want to see what's happening elsewhere... or see when your friends are hanging out without you.

Snap says it's introducing this tool to make updates easier to find. "We made Map Explore because we noticed that when you open the Map, you aren't always sure where to start your journey," the company said in a statement. "Unless you swiped outside your city, you might never see some of the amazing events our community is capturing."

Snap notes that Map Explore updates are generated by actions your friends make in real life, "inferred from the locations they open the app at." That means that if your friend is sharing their location on the map but hasn't opened the app in eight hours, their location will disappear. Only one status is visible for each user at any given time, and each status can be viewed for up to 24 hours.

To access the feature, pinch to zoom out from the camera screen when you launch the app. Tap on new updates at the bottom of the screen, then swipe horizontally to scroll through updates from your friends and other content from Snap Map. If you want to delete your status or turn on Ghost Mode (which hides your location) tap on the settings icon in the top right hand of the map.

Snapchat launched Snap Map last year as a tool to let users share their location with friends. Friends appear on the map in the cartoon Bitmoji form, and you can view snaps they've shared based on location. Snap Map also has a collaborative "Our Story" section, that collects snaps taken at a particular location that's popular. The location-based snaps from Snap Map can also be embedded online.

The feature initially led to concerns about privacy, but Snap says sharing your location details on Snap Map is always opt-in and won't be shared unless you choose to do so.

The feature will roll out globally over the next few weeks.

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Snapchat's Map Explore feature will let you know when your friends are hanging out without you

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Snap is introducing a new feature called Map Explore today that will alert and update users about what's happening on their Snap Map. Snap says the travel and location updates will automatically appear on users' Snap Maps when friends opt to share their location.

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The shady data-gathering tactics used by Cambridge Analytica were an open secret to online marketers. I know, because I was one

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The shady data-gathering tactics used by Cambridge Analytica were an open secret to online marketers. I know, because I was one

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The recently revealed Facebook data "breach" that allowed Cambridge Analytica to get access to millions of users' worth of Facebook data has been greeted as a shocking scandal. Reporters and readers have been surprised to learn about the ability to gather personal data on the friends of people who install a Facebook app, the conversion of a personality quiz into a source of political data, the idea that you can target marketing messages based on individual psychographic profiles, and the surreptitious collection of data under the guise of academic research, later used for political purposes. But there is one group of people who are mostly unsurprised by these revelations: the market researchers and digital marketers who have known about (and in many cases, used) these tactics for years. I'm one of them.

Back when the Cambridge Analytica data was getting collected by an enterprising academic, I was the vice president of social media for Vision Critical, a customer intelligence software company that powers customer feedback for more than a third of the Fortune 100 companies. Our enterprise clients wanted to know how social media data could complement the insights they were getting from their customer surveys, and it was my job to come up with a way of integrating social media data with survey data.

The company's data set - by then, nearly 17.5 million strong- was based on just 52,600 actual installs, each of which provided access to an average of 332 friends

Vision Critical's blue chip customer roster made us an appealing target for the many social media vendors hawking data-gathering solutions. In 2012, the data analytics firm Microstrategy pitched me on their "Wisdom" tool for Facebook, which the company had touted as a data source based on "12 million anonymous, opted-in Facebook users." But when I spoke with an analyst at Microstrategy that December, he told me that the company's data set - by then, nearly 17.5 million strong- was based on just 52,600 actual installs, each of which provided access to an average of 332 friends.

Nor was Microstrategy doing something unusual. The tactic of collecting friend data, which has been featured prominently in the Cambridge Analytica coverage, was a well-known way of turning a handful of app users into a goldmine.

"We were all conscious that friend data was accessible," says Sam Weston, a communications consultant who has been working in digital marketing and market research for nearly two decades. "I don't think that anybody had perspective on the potential consequences until it was slotted into this news story, where the consequence may have been the election of Donald Trump."

Mary Hodder, a longtime privacy consultant who is now the product developer for the Identity Ecosystem Steering Group, was equally unsurprised. "I knew 10 years ago that Facebook's API allowed an entity to gather friend data," Hodder told me. "But I wasn't surprised that the 95 percent of the population that didn't understand this were shocked. They thought if Facebook was going to sell you out, it would just be you. They didn't know you would take all your friends with you."

Pages and apps like this might have seemed innocent to the average Facebook user, but people in the marketing community were hardly deceived

If Facebook's generous access to friend data was known to many marketers and software developers, so was the tactic of disguising data grabs as fun apps, pages, or quizzes. Another company I spoke with back in 2012 was LoudDoor, a Facebook advertising company that offered enhanced ad targeting based on the data they were gathering from millions of Facebook users. The company ran a network of Facebook pages that were essentially content farms, like the Diving Wrecks and Reefs page that consisted of pretty underwater photos. Interspersed with all the photos were occasional come-ons for fan surveys that would enter you in a contest; taking the survey meant installing a "fan satisfaction" app that gave LoudDoor access to all your data. Pages and apps like this might have seemed innocent to the average Facebook user, but people in the marketing community were hardly deceived.

"It was pretty common knowledge among people who understood the internet that if you were taking a quiz to find out what kind of cheese you are, somebody on the other end is very interested in getting that data," says Susanne Yada, a Facebook ad strategist. "I wish I could say I was more surprised and more alarmed. I just assumed that if you take a quiz, someone would know who you are because you are signed into Facebook."

Among the ubiquitous data-gathering apps of that period, the personality quiz that Cambridge Analytica created was nothing special. "It is actually stunning to think, with the clarity that perspective brings, that you could stand up the kind of ridiculous quiz or survey that they did and then walk away with psychographic profiles on 50 million Americans," Weston muses now. "Even for someone who worked in the field, [the Cambridge Analytica story] was a moment that gave you real pause to reflect on the business that we walked away from, but that was a massive part of the industry for a long time."

They had close to 12 million users, which gave them access to data on 85 million Americans

And yes, these "fun" apps gathered your friends' data too: the LoudDoor salesperson I spoke with at the time told me that they had close to 12 million users, which gave them access to data on 85 million Americans. But that friend data grab was far from clear to fans of the page, even if the company's disclosure notice explained that the purpose of its app was to ensure that "brands can make better decisions about which content they should promote to you."

As for the idea that the purpose of gathering data is to target ads - well, Cambridge Analytica is scarcely an outlier there, either. Mary Hodder recalls working with a company called Apisphere that used location data for ad targeting back in 2008 and 2009.

"We did this project for the Hard Rock Cafe Casino in Las Vegas," Hodder told me. "They wanted to put wands in the ceiling to collect the IMEI [identification] numbers of every phone that went by, map everywhere they went in the casino or on the property, and map them in the hallways up to their rooms. And then they could do a reverse lookup on IMEI numbers because there are companies that aggregate IMEI numbers, and as soon as they figured out who the person was, they could send them offers, text them offers, and the people had not opted in. So they were basically just intercepting your phone, and figuring out how to send messages to you in one form or another."

Hodder remembers objecting to this as at a meeting where the rest of her colleagues saw nothing amiss with the practice: that's how normal it was to harvest data and use it to target individual ads, long before Cambridge Analytica got in on the action. For those of us who were witness to the "look what we can do!" explosion of data-driven marketing tactics, it takes some reflection to understand why the practices of Cambridge Analytica have surprised so many people.

"When you say 'We're creating psychological profiles to sway people,' marketers have been doing that since marketing existed," Yada observes. "But I think there's a difference between actually representing what your services are and how they can help people, versus being really clandestine and trying to sway people with fake news."

"When you say 'We're creating psychological profiles to sway people,' marketers have been doing that since marketing existed."

"The fundamental problem is the gap in understanding about what Facebook's business model actually is," Weston says. "You know how Target's business model works, or how Apple's business model works, but nobody understands how these folks [digital marketers] actually make money. That's not just true for Facebook but for every ad-supported business and every data-supported business, which is just about every tech company... [Facebook] did a good job talking to Wall Street about how their business works, but at no point did they actually talk to their users."

Given the widespread normalization of deceptive data gathering and marketing tactics, I count myself lucky that the company I worked with didn't buy into the frenzy of the social media data gold rush. Because Vision Critical had its roots in the market research industry, where there are norms and codes of practice around how you handle respondent data, the idea of grabbing up friend data was utterly anathema: the company's founder dismissed it as a non-starter the very first time it came up, and at every stage in developing our own Facebook app, we disclosed that we were using it to gather data.

But the whole time, it felt like we were swimming against the tide by following old-school standards for transparency and accountability in how we handled data. I hate to admit how many times I pitched my colleagues on some clever way of incentivizing people to connect to Facebook, based on some scheme or app I'd just stumbled across, only to be reminded that it would violate our data or privacy policies. If I'd been working in a digital marketing agency where gamifying data requests was the norm, I can easily see how I might have yielded to the temptation of disguising a data grab with a recreational app, or scooping up friend data just because it was there.

That experience points to how difficult it will be to reform not just Facebook, but the larger industry of data collectors and marketing shops that have evolved to maximize the amount of data collected and the precision of ad targeting. Social networks and other advertising platforms may set up various processes that notionally screen out data aggregators or manipulative advertisers, but as long as these companies run on advertising revenue, they have little incentive to promote transparency among data brokers and advertisers. And those industries, in turn, have little motivation to place ethics ahead of profit.

The outrage now directed at Cambridge Analytica and Facebook suggests there might be an appetite for an online ecosystem based on a different compact between consumers, platforms and advertisers. But we won't build that ecosystem by pretending that this is a matter of a few bad actors. It's time for us to face up to what online marketers and researchers have known for more than a decade: the contemporary Internet runs on the exploitation of user data, and that fact won't change until consumers, regulators and businesses commit to a radically different model.

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The shady data-gathering tactics used by Cambridge Analytica were an open secret to online marketers. I know, because I was one

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There is one group of people who are mostly unsurprised by the revelations surrounding Cambridge Analytica's dubious Facebook data gathering tactics: the market researchers and digital marketers who have known about (and in many cases, used) these tactics for years. I'm one of them.

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Twitter violates womens’ human rights, according to Amnesty International

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Twitter violates womens’ human rights, according to Amnesty International

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"Amnesty International’s new report, “#ToxicTwitter: Violence and abuse against women online,” details Twitter’s failures to ensure safety online and prevent violence and abuse toward women."

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Twitter has found itself under fire again. This time, it's coming from Amnesty International, a non-governmental organization that focuses on human rights. Amnesty International's new report, "#ToxicTwitter: Violence and abuse against women online," details Twitter's failures to ensure safety online and prevent violence and abuse toward women. What Amnesty International is trying to achieve with this report, the organization's technology and human rights researcher Azmina Dhrodia told TechCrunch, is to look at why and how this is a human rights issue.

By framing it as a human rights issue, Amnesty International says it hopes to be able to push Twitter to enforce its own policies consistently and be transparent about how it's doing so.

"Twitter's failure to adequately and consistently enforce their own policies is leading women to either silence or censor themselves online," Dhrodia told me. "So women are either leaving the platform, they're thinking five or six times over before they post anything, they're taking social media breaks. They're coming up with a whole bunch of different coping mechanisms in order to avoid violence and abuse because they know by speaking out, it's not going to be dealt with."

Twitter, however, disagrees with Amnesty International's premise that Twitter is violating human rights.

"The assertion that Twitter is consciously unengaged with human rights issues is an unfair representation not just of the facts, but of the ethos of our dedicated teams, and the core mission of the company," Twitter Legal, Policy, and Trust and Safety Lead Vijaya Gadde said in a statement to TechCrunch.

Although Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey has publicly said the company is looking for help to address its issues around safety, Amnesty International says Twitter has declined to provide the organization with any "meaningful data on how the company responds to reports of violence and abuse."

This report comes after Amnesty International's 14-month investigation that combined quantitative and qualitative research. The report is based on interviews with 86 women and non-binary people, including journalists, politicians and everyday users across the U.S. and the UK about their experiences online.

"When talking to them about their experience of violence and abuse, Twitter came up consistently as the platform where most women had experienced violence and abuse and also where they felt it was the company that was doing the least to remedy the issue," Dhrodia said.

The report goes on to outline some recommendations for Twitter moving forward. The first is to share specific examples of the type of violence and abuse Twitter won't tolerate. Another is to share data on how quickly Twitter responds to reports of abuse, while another is to ensure its decisions to restrict certain content are consistent with international human rights law.

Gadde says Twitter agrees with many of the recommendations in Amnesty International's report, noting how some of the work is already underway or has been completed. In the last 16 months, Twitter says it has made more than 30 individual changes to its product, policies and operations, and has increased its "action rates" ten-fold. Gadde added:

We are committed to understanding how we can better combat the hatred and prejudice within society that gives rise to online abuse and how we can encourage a healthier public conversation. We are an open platform and hold a mirror up to human behaviors - both the good and the bad. Everyone has a part to play in building a more compassionate and empathetic society, including Twitter. Our policy, product, and engineering teams continue to work collaboratively to find ways to innovate to protect our users and enhance their experience, particularly as those in our society intent on harm find new ways to hurt and abuse. We look forward to ongoing constructive engagement with Amnesty International and others to find real, lasting solutions to ensure women are safer and feel safer online.

Earlier this month, Twitter began soliciting proposals from the public to help the platform capture, measure and evaluate healthy interactions. The goal is to come up with metrics to measure the health of the interactions on Twitter. But Twitter eventually wants to take that a step further, Dorsey said in a public conversation via Periscope.

"Ultimately we want to have a measurement of how it affects the broader society and public health, but also individual health, as well," Dorsey said.

As Twitter embarks on its journey to make its platform a safer, more productive place for everyone, it's relying on third parties to step in to determine the best ways to capture, measure and evaluate health metrics. Perhaps, more importantly, Twitter needs help determining exactly what those metrics entail.

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Twitter violates womens' human rights, according to Amnesty International

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Twitter has found itself under fire again. This time, it's coming from Amnesty International, a non-governmental organization that focuses on human rights. Amnesty International's new report, "#ToxicTwitter: Violence and abuse against women online," details Twitter's failures to ensure safety online and prevent violence and abuse toward women.

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CDs and vinyl are more popular than digital downloads once again

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CDs and vinyl are more popular than digital downloads once again

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Streaming music is taking over the recording industry, and there's no clearer sign of it than this: digital download sales have fallen so much in the past few years that they're now smaller than sales of CDs, vinyl, and other physical media, which hasn't been the case since 2011.

The stats, which come from the RIAA's newly released 2017 year end report, show that digital downloads fell to $1.3 billion last year, whereas physical media, while also falling, only declined to $1.5 billion.

Of course, both pale in comparison to revenue brought in from streaming, which has taken over the music industry in recent years. In 2016, the music industry made more than half of its revenue from streaming for the first time, and that growth continued into 2017. Last year, nearly two-thirds of all revenue - over $5.7 billion - came from streaming, an increase of 43 percent.

That's due to the increasing popularity of subscription services like Spotify and Apple Music. But as it turns out, there's a fast growing new category of streaming services that could soon be a very big deal for the industry. They're called "limited tier paid subscriptions," and they're basically subscription streaming services with some sort of major constraint. Amazon, for instance, sells a $4 per month unlimited music subscription that only works on a single Echo. Pandora's paid radio service, Pandora Plus, also falls into this category.

Despite the lack of attention on this category, it represented 14 percent of the subscription market in 2017, up from 11 percent in 2016. That may sound tiny, but it represents a 125 percent year-over-year growth in terms of revenue, growing from $263 million to $592 million - bigger than vinyl. That's huge for a segment that may well be growing largely due to the ballooning popularity of the Echo. Amazon's streaming service didn't go live until the end of 2016, so it's likely responsible for a large part of that growth.

In a statement to The Verge, Amazon Music vice president Steve Boom said that the total hours of music streamed using Alexa-enabled devices has already doubled this year. "In the US, we've seen more than half of Amazon Music listeners used voice year to date, and compared to this period last year, we've already seen that the total hours streamed on Amazon Music via Alexa-enabled devices have doubled in the US. Amazon Music listeners love listening to music with Alexa," Boom said.

Paid subscription revenue on its own was up 55 percent last year, and ad-supported streaming revenue was up 35 percent. Their continued growth has led to overall revenue growth for the music industry for the second year in a row, bringing it to $8.7 billion. That's a return to 2008 levels, which is a bright sign for the industry, especially since subscription services show no sign of slowing. But as the RIAA notes, the industry's revenue is still 40 percent below peak levels, and physical sales and digital downloads still have farther to fall.

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CDs and vinyl are more popular than digital downloads once again

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Streaming music is taking over the recording industry, and there's no clearer sign of it than this: digital download sales have fallen so much in the past few years that they're now smaller than sales of CDs, vinyl, and other physical media, which hasn't been the case since 2011.

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Facebook has been collecting call history and SMS data from Android devices

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Facebook has been collecting call history and SMS data from Android devices

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Facebook has been collecting call records and SMS data from Android devices for years. Several Twitter users have reported finding months or years of call history data in their downloadable Facebook data file. A number of Facebook users have been spooked by the recent Cambridge Analytica privacy scandal, prompting them to download all the data that Facebook stores on their account. The results have been alarming for some.

"Oh wow my deleted Facebook Zip file contains info on every single phone cellphone call and text I made for about a year," says ‏Twitter user Mat Johnson. Another, Dylan McKay, says "somehow it has my entire call history with my partner's mum." Others have found a similar pattern where it appears close contacts, like family members, are the only ones tracked in Facebook's call records.

Ars Technica reports that Facebook has been requesting access to contacts, SMS data, and call history on Android devices to improve its friend recommendation algorithm and distinguish between business contacts and your true personal friendships. Facebook appears to be gathering this data through its Messenger application, which often prompts Android users to take over as the default SMS client. Facebook has recently been offering a prompt to "continuously upload" contact data, including call and text history, but it's not clear when this prompt started appearing in relation to the historic data gathering.

Facebook hasn't been able to collect this data on iPhones thanks to Apple's privacy controls

While the recent prompts make it clear, Ars Technica points out the troubling aspect that Facebook has been doing this for years, during a time when Android permissions were a lot less strict. Google changed Android permissions to make them more clear and granular, but developers could bypass this and continue accessing call and SMS data until Google deprecated the old Android API in October.

Facebook has responded to the findings, but the company appears to suggest it's normal for apps to access your phone call history when you upload contacts to social apps. "The most important part of apps and services that help you make connections is to make it easy to find the people you want to connect with," says a Facebook spokesperson, in response to a query from Ars Technica. "So, the first time you sign in on your phone to a messaging or social app, it's a widely used practice to begin by uploading your phone contacts."

The same call record and SMS data collection has not been discovered on iOS devices. While Apple does allow some specialist apps to access this data in limited ways like blocking spam calls or texts, these apps have to be specifically enabled through a process that's similar to enabling third-party keyboards. The majority of iOS apps cannot access call history or SMS messages, and Facebook's iOS app is not able to capture this data on an iPhone.

Facebook may need to answer some additional questions on this data collection, especially around when it started and whether Android users truly understood what data they were allowing Facebook to collect when they agreed to enable phone and SMS access in an Android permissions prompt.

The data collection revelations come in the same week Facebook has been dealing with the fall out from Cambridge Analytica obtaining personal information from up to 50 million Facebook users. Facebook has altered its privacy controls in recent years to prevent such an event occurring again, but the company is facing a backlash of criticism over the inadequate privacy controls that allowed this to happen. CEO Mark Zuckerberg has also been summoned to explain how data was taken without users' consent to a UK Parliamentary committee.

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Facebook has been collecting call history and SMS data from Android devices

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Facebook has been collecting call records and SMS data from Android devices for years. Several Twitter users have reported finding months or years of call history data in their downloadable Facebook data file. A number of Facebook users have been spooked by the recent Cambridge Analytica privacy scandal, prompting them to download all the data that Facebook stores on their account.

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Has Technology Changed the Experience of Music?

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Has Technology Changed the Experience of Music?

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"we often choose, as we have for decades, to outsource control over music's narrative to a machine"

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"No one knows what the future of the music business will look like, but the near future of listening to music looks a lot like 1960," Sasha Frere-Jones writes. "People will listen, for free, to music that comes out of a stationary box that sits indoors."

Downloadable music files, online radio stations, streaming on-demand song libraries, iPods with mixes ... the music industry hasn't undergone a single tsunami. It's faced a Roland Emmerichian onslaught of natural forces that changed the way we listen to music forever. But are these technologies uprooting or upholding the experience of music, itself?

It's easy to argue that technology's force has been disruptive. The music industry's profits have fallen by 60 percent in the last decade. You know why. When music was made of polyvinyl chloride (aka vinyl), it was hard to steal. Once it could be turned into a file, the price for many listeners fell to zero. Downloading and file sharing services from Napster to bittorrent create an ether market where the cost of gaining ownership of music is equal to the cost of an Internet connection.

The impact on the music industry's bottom line is clear enough, but what about the impact on listeners? Half a century ago, the overwhelming choice was to buy and listen to whole albums. Today iTunes, the largest music store in the country, sells individual tracks that listeners can mix and mash in personal audio-collages. (I listen to a lot more mixes than albums, and even when I listen to albums, I find the songs through mixes.) We, the listeners, now exert much more control than original artists over the narrative of our musical experience.

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Has Technology Changed the Experience of Music?

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"No one knows what the future of the music business will look like, but the near future of listening to music looks a lot like 1960," Sasha Frere-Jones writes. "People will listen, for free, to music that comes out of a stationary box that sits indoors."

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Smart speakers ‘threaten Radio’ now Alexa chooses your music to cook by 

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Smart speakers ‘threaten Radio’ now Alexa chooses your music to cook by 

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Smart speakers could undermine radio listening by suggesting personalised song playlists for users after learning your musical tastes.

The popularity of Amazon's Alexa-enabled Echo and rival hardware will fuel a new wave of growth for the music industry, a report by the BPI and Entertainment Retailers Association found.

An estimated 27m smart speakers were sold last year and listening to music is already the most popular activity for owners.

AI changes music we listen to

The Everybody's Talkin' report said that the speakers' AI-driven technology is likely to change the music we listen to, as well as how we listen to it.

It found that 39% of smart speaker owners say time listening to the device is replacing time spent listening to AM/FM stations, encouraging a shift away from traditional radio.

"Smart speakers may fuel more casual interaction with music - with generic requests to play music creating greater dependence on the personalisation algorithms of speakers' assistants," the authors said.

The music played most is likely to be songs that appeal to a whole family. "Smart speakers are taking music streaming into a new world of shared listening, away from individual consumption, with multiple-user interaction," the report found.

'Mood' music

Record labels need to target the changing "moods" of music fans as well as discovering new talent.

"The emergence of programmed playlists on streaming services is making 'context' a hot topic - such as music to work-out to, cook to, etc," the report said.

However smart speakers could also help drive sales of physical music.

"Where a fan likes music they hear, then can just as easily use devices to order a physical copy of a recording, particularly on LP."

Speaker sales to hit 58m

Smart speaker sales are tipped to hit 58m this year with Apple, Google, Amazon and Sonos devices competing for consumers' attention.

Their penetration is already boosting music delivery platforms such as Spotify and Amazon Music, since 48% of smart speaker owners have a premium subscription to a music-streaming service.

Geoff Taylor, BPI Chief Executive BPI & BRIT Awards, said: "This exciting new technology will not only transform how we engage with music, encouraging more shared listening, but also how we discover it."

Kim Bayley, ERA Chief Executive, said: "Music began with the human voice, so how appropriate that the voice is fast emerging as the future of entertainment technology. It promises music fans a more fluid and personal relationship with the music they love."

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Smart speakers 'threaten Radio' now Alexa chooses your music to cook by - iNews

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Smart speakers could undermine radio listening by suggesting personalised song playlists for users after learning your musical tastes. The popularity of Amazon's Alexa-enabled Echo and rival hardware will fuel a new wave of growth for the music industry, a report by the BPI and Entertainment Retailers Association

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MUSIC MAP: Type the name of an artist to find it on the map

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MUSIC MAP: Type the name of an artist to find it on the map

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Music-Map is the similar music finder that helps you find similar bands and artists to the ones you love.

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The Problem With Automating Music Discovery = ALGORITHMS 

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The Problem With Automating Music Discovery = ALGORITHMS 

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In June of 2015, Apple Music went live, and with it came Beats 1 Music, a "24/7 global listening experience" featuring radio shows curated by experts like former BBC Radio 1 host Zane Lowe, Hot 97 host Ebro Darden, and grime connoisseur Julie Adenuga. In the initial press release, Apple played up the human element, using the term "radio with soul" to describe the service. While the other major players in streaming offered an impersonal, technology-driven approach,
Apple Music decided to put people at the front and center.

Apple Music launched with all the standard functionality of Spotify and TIDAL: a huge catalog, the ability to make and listen to playlists, and a monthly subscription option for ad-free listening. But Beats 1 Radio made it feel as if music streaming and discovery finally had a human touch to it. The question arose: Is this carefully considered balance between man and machine the future of streaming?

Or was it a step backward? For consumers trying to decide whether or not to ditch Spotify or TIDAL and invest their $10 a month in Apple, it was confusing.

Radio? In 2015? Really?

About a month after the launch of Beats 1 Radio, Spotify introduced the Discover Weekly playlist, calling it "your ultimate personalized playlist." Updated every Monday, the playlist delivered two hours of customized music recommendations based on personal tastes and listening habits. It used an algorithm to pick music that you're likely to like, and it worked. "It's like having your best friend make you a personalized mixtape every single week," a press release from Spotify promised. By October 2015, over one billion songs had been streamed through the automated playlists. It was a tremendous success, by any numerical measure.

In September, at London's Radio Festival 2015, Lowe admitted that even he had his uncertainties about where Beats 1 fit in with the future of music. When asked why Apple Music needed Beats 1 Radio, he said, "I'm not sure it does. We're working this out, time will tell. We've been going three months, I don't have the answers. I hope that there's a place for it."

Today, Lowe sounds less unsure of himself. He explains his 2015 comment: "What was probably a little misconstrued from my answer-it was a kind of muddled answer-was that it was early days, and we were still in the process of working out what we were ultimately good at. But the objective was always very clear: to break records, to find new music, and to put exciting new artists in front of an audience that wants to hear it."

People's willingness to be surprised has been dulled, so it is a little more shocking, and not in a good way, when a DJ tries to go left. But we still try. There's still nothing better as a DJ than when you can break away from the norm and go somewhere else with it. - MICK

Of course, that's always been the goal, but algorithmically built custom playlists can do that. What's the point of involving humans in the process of music discovery? Does the success of Spotify's Discover Weekly signal the beginning of the end for DJs, bloggers, and so-called tastemakers?

"They've eliminated a big chunk of the human curation aspect," A-list DJ and producer MICK explains, "but I'd expect that because the way we're consuming music in general is much different. Forty years ago people sat in front of the radio to hear new music. People would get in their car and drive around to listen to a specific radio show because the antenna in their house wasn't strong enough. Now, just like everything else, it's 24/7, 365. There's music on your phone, music on your computer. People are Shazaming TV commercials to find songs. The way we're consuming music is created by the same technology that we use to discover it."

The downside to automated music discovery is that we're encouraged to develop a taste profile and stick to it. Discover Weekly is usually on point, statistically speaking. Listening to music similar to what you're already listening to is usually going to be enjoyable. But automated music discovery only keeps us in a predictable, formulaic system. If you're only listening to new music based on what you already like, or based on what others with similar tastes like, you're going to miss out on left-field discoveries.

"People's willingness to be surprised has been dulled," MICK says, "so it is a little more shocking, and not in a good way, when a DJ tries to go left. But we still try. There's still nothing better as a DJ than when you can break away from the norm and go somewhere else with it. When people are really surprised and really into it, that's still the best reaction a DJ can get. It totally comes down to expert human curation."

[Music is] fucking real, and it breathes, and it moves. It doesn't sit in a fucking list waiting to be handpicked by a computer. It's fucking constantly moving! It's changing shape right now! - Zane Lowe

In his own curation, Lowe emphasizes an element that very much depends on the human touch. "Context is a really important word for us, because we're playing a DIIV record next to a Mura Masa record, next to an Isaac Gracie record, next to a Missy Elliott record. Certainly, in some respects, people are like, 'How are you gonna make that make sense?' Well, it's about the context. Missy will sound different today when she's played next to Isaac Gracie compared to yesterday when I played her next to Destructo."

Only time will tell if Beats 1 Radio will become the new blueprint for music streaming in the future, and if DJs who dedicate their life to selecting music will be able to work in harmony with customized playlists like Discover Weekly. The technology will keep improving, but human beings will always be able to offer irreplaceable context and true unpredictability. After all, music is an art, not a science.

Lowe suggests that the key is finding a balance between automated suggestions and human recommendations. "That's the code for the future. [Music is] fucking real, and it breathes, and it moves. It doesn't sit in a fucking list waiting to be handpicked by a computer. It's fucking constantly moving! It's changing shape right now! Go listen to a record that you thought you had a handle on 10 years ago and how much you've changed and grown as a person, and it will sound totally different."

"The main thing for me is that I hope I wasn't being too critical towards the algorithmic state," he says. "I understand the importance of it. And it's a big part of evolution and progression. I really appreciate that side of things in the sense that yes, convenience is important, and it may actually bring you something that you didn't expect. Where I draw the line is when people tell me it's the beginning of something and the death of something else, because I don't believe in the beginning and ends of things. People said vinyl was dead, and I mean, hello?"

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The Problem With Automating Music Discovery

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In June of 2015, Apple Music went live, and with it came Beats 1 Music, a "24/7 global listening experience" featuring radio shows curated by experts like former BBC Radio 1 host Zane Lowe, Hot 97 host Ebro Darden, and grime connoisseur Julie Adenuga.

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SMART SPEAKERS SET TO DOMINATE MUSIC STREAMING

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SMART SPEAKERS SET TO DOMINATE MUSIC STREAMING

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"The new report titled, Everybody’s Talkin’ – Smart Speakers and their impact on music consumption, examines the potential that voice-controlled smart speakers have to transform how fans engage with music."

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M magazine: PRS for Music online magazine

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Smart speaker use is rising rapidly and may contribute towards a shift away from radio, according to the latest joint British Phonographic Industry (BPI) and Entertainment Retailers Association (ERA) report.
The new report titled, Everybody's Talkin' - Smart Speakers and their impact on music consumption, examines the potential that voice-controlled smart speakers have to transform how fans engage with music.

Key findings show that music is the most popular use for smart speakers, with 'users listening to more audio than they did before purchasing one of these devices.'

One study found that 34 percent of Echo and home owners spend more than four hours a day listening to music, compared to 24 percent of the general population.

Meanwhile, 48 percent of smart speaker owners have a premium subscription to a music-streaming service, with 39 percent saying that their time listening to the device is replacing time spent listening to AM and FM stations - creating the opportunity to convert radio listeners into paying music subscribers.

Among the impacts on the industry are how playlists are programmed around contextual topics such as 'music to work-out to'. The report - authored by Music Ally's Stuart Dredge - states: 'Labels must now create metadata around genre, mood and user activities.'

Looking to the future of smart speakers, it suggests usage could help to drive sales of physical music and increase purchases of concert and festival tickets. 'Where a fan likes music they hear, then can just as easily use devices to order a physical copy of a recording, particularly on LP'.

In terms of the challenges faced, the report points to issues with metadata and marketing. 'If you make a generalised request, where will the algorithm that powers the search take you? If you ask for a concerto, which recording out of the dozens or more that may exist will it transport you to?'

Commenting on the report, ERA chief executive Kim Bayley said: 'Music began with the human voice, so how appropriate that the voice is fast emerging as the future of entertainment technology.

'It promises music fans a more fluid and personal relationship with the music they love. Over the past decade, ERA's members have reshaped the entertainment industry, benefiting both consumers and content owners.

'Thanks to new digital services, an industry in rapid decline is now back to growth. If ever it was in doubt, it is clear that innovative new services drive music listening and music revenues.'

BPI and BRIT Awards chief executive Geoff Taylor added: 'Smart speakers are poised to kick-start the next stage of the music streaming revolution, attracting more casual listeners into subscription services drawn by music as the "killer app" for these devices.

'This exciting new technology will not only transform how we engage with music, encouraging more shared listening, but also how we discover it.

'The challenge and opportunity for labels and artists will be to ensure their music is as easily available and as effectively marketed via AI voice assistants as it has been through the screen interface.'

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Smart speakers set to dominate music streaming - M Magazine

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Smart speaker use is rising rapidly and may contribute towards a shift away from radio, according to the latest joint British Phonographic Industry (BPI) and Entertainment Retailers Association (ERA) report. The new report titled, Everybody's Talkin' - Smart Speakers and their impact on music consumption, examines the potential that voice-controlled smart speakers have to transform how fans engage with music.

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Echo Nest knows your music, your voting choice

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Echo Nest knows your music, your voting choice

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This article was taken from the February 2014 issue of Wired magazine. Be the first to read Wired's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by subscribing online.

The Echo Nest helps music services from Spotify to Rdio and Rhapsody suggest tunes you'll like. But your playlists also teach its algorithms what movies you'll watch -- and even how you'll vote "I just found Polish reggae two days ago," boasts Glenn McDonald, lead engineer at the Cambridge, Massachusetts-based music startup The Echo Nest, as we stare at a screen in a conference room.

Polish what? "Apparently, before the Wall came down, and big western artists came into Poland, a common sound track of the protest movements was Bob Marley," says McDonald, a compact man with close cropped hair and an intense, caffeinated manner. Meanwhile, other reggae bands, such as the UK's Misty in Roots, played influential shows there during the 80s. As the Ramones at CBGB did for punk, he says, the mere exposure to this music seemed to launch scores of reggae acts, from Paprika Korps to Pablopavo i Ludziki.(According to Wikipedia, the latter "is one of the first vocalists singing raggamuffin in Polish".)

The Echo Nest claims it reaches around 100 million listeners per month, by powering music discovery services such as Spotify, Rdio, Rhapsody and VEVO, and delivering musical connections where none may have existed before. Even now, where every band is no more than a Google search away, you may never have heard of these two acts, or indeed the genre. But a few days before, as The Echo Nest's research algorithms were sifting through "unassigned artists", McDonald found a strange cluster. "The computer said, 'These go together more strongly than with anything else,'" says McDonald.

And so another entry was added to Every Noise at Once, McDonald's massive project to map the world's corpus of musical genres. Staring at the sprawling projection up on the wall, which resembles Mark Lombardi's unsettlingly internecine drawings of political conspiracies, one finds Polish reggae wedged roughly between Romanian pop and K-hop (or Korean hip-hop), closer in musical space to Chicago soul than it is to Finnish hip-hop.

These genre clusters are created not by what the artists sound like, but how they are described in the world: on music blogs; in record-company catalogues; on your cousin's Facebook page -- anything The Echo Nest's semantic trawl pulls up. Although to human ears, there is a distinct sound to Polish reggae -- McDonald says there is a "polka-folk melody to some of it", not to mention the lyrics being in Polish -- the distinction is murkier to a computer.

There are reggae bands from Bulgaria to Omaha, Nebraska, that would sound, in terms of quantitative audio signal, fairly similar. "But Polish reggae is clearly a thing," says McDonald, "and bands from Bulgaria to Omaha aren't part of it, no matter what they sound like."

Every Noise at Once is more of an obsessive skunkworks-style exercise in computer learning than a revenue stream for The Echo Nest. The company grew out of research at MIT's Media Lab, and now essentially makes money as the behind-the-scenes engine powering any number of greater-known applications, from Rdio to Spotify to Yahoo! to MTV. "In some ways," says Jim Lucchese, The Echo Nest's CEO, "we're the nerds doing the cool kids' homework," adding over drinks in Tribeca in New York City that, before McDonald joined the company, his hobby was "cleaning up music metadata".

But Every Noise at Once speaks to the same animating impulse on which the company was founded, as described by The Echo Nest's cofounder and chief technical officer, 36-year-old Brian Whitman. "We are trying to automatically understand everything about music," he says. "What people are saying about it, what it sounds like."

That means teaching computers about human constructs such as genre, which provide handy "bookmarks", as McDonald describes it, to finding one's place in the musical universe; but which can also be imprecise or particular to a computer. Run a query for the hottest "rock" artists, he notes, and the computer returns Rihanna. With enough human guidance and algorithmic power, however, a kind of AI version of the frenzied, aspiringly omniscient hipster narrator of LCD Soundsystem's Losing My Edge ("I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978") can be created. As McDonald notes in a blog post, "our computers can now enter plausibly into arguments over almost 500 genres, from a cappella to zydeco."

The Echo Nest claims to have a knowledge base of more than a trillion data points, covering more than 35 million songs and 2.5 million artists. This is music in the age of Big Data, when you can carry "almost all of recorded music in your pocket", as Echo Nest development director Paul Lamere puts it. The algorithms can rank the danceability of a tune somewhere on a spectrum of zero to one: it turns out that the Top Ten's danceability has changed little from "The Twist" to twerking, according to The Echo Nest. The listening habits of music-service users can meanwhile be tracked in real-time and correlated across their digital lives to derive powerful insights about their likely non-musical preferences. At the heart of what The Echo Nest is trying to do is not simply find the right song to play for you next, but to understand something about what it is playing and how that might relate to you. As Whitman puts it: "We're trying to get to the stuff you and I would be implicitly figuring out when we have a conversation about music, about ourselves." Generically categorising the world's recorded music is, by itself, a gargantuan task. But even more formidable is cracking who's on the other end of the signal.

Democrats liked more music genres (ten) than Republicans (seven); but liking The Beatles predicted nothing in the way of political preference.

Brian Whitman and Tristan Jehan, (above: left and right) cofounders of The Echo Nest, met a decade ago at the MIT Media Lab.

Whitman had been recording "intelligent dance music" ("the only genre," he jokes, sitting in a conference room, "happy enough to compliment itself in its name") under the name Blitter, and found it hard, like so many musicians, to successfully do so "at scale".

As he recalls, the audience "was out there, but hard to find". How could those fans be discovered and connected? Returning to his graduate studies, he began to work in natural language processing while thinking back to his original problem.

He began conducting experiments such as trying to automatically extract information ("with maximal semantic value") from song reviews, even taking on Pitchfork, the granddaddy of oblique music writing. Jehan, meanwhile, was toiling in the world of "music information retrieval", a wide-ranging discipline that seeks, in essence, to break down music into its component parts; to turn it into data. This is surprisingly difficult. For example, to a computer, the harpsichord and the guitar sound rather similar. "At the end of the day, it's a plucked string," says Jehan, a stylish 39-year-old Frenchman. Or take what he calls "valence". What is a song's mood? As Lamere had joked: "The happiest thrash metal song may sound like the most angry soft rock song." Is a song such as Joy Division's major-key Ceremony happy or sad? Then there's what might be called the Bohemian Rhapsody problem. "What do you do with a song like this?" asks Jehan. "You can't just have one data point representing one thing about it."

So The Echo Nest was born. The goal, Whitman says, was to get past the problems of "care and scale" that plagued the existing music recommendation and discovery technologies. Collaborative filtering ("those who bought X also bought Y") suffers on the "care" standard. "These technologies don't know about the music itself; they only know about some of the usage patterns around it," says Whitman. A Beatles album on Amazon will simply show that listeners also bought other Beatles albums, while the closed loop of popularity bias makes it nigh impossible for new music to enter the system. A service such as Pandora, Whitman argues, has expert human tagging, but fails on scale. "They've got a million songs. To us that's ridiculous. There's so much music that Pandora will never catalogue."

The cramped offices of The Echo Nest are not far from both MIT and the Berklee College of Music, and the place seems to have a foot in both camps. "We understand everything there is to know about music," says Whitman, "and then do a lot of crazy stuff around that." Every so often, for instance, the company will unveil a music hack -- for instance, a "Bonhamiser" that will add the Led Zeppelin drummer's signature sound to any song; or "The Infinite Jukebox", which takes a song, breaks it down via the Echo Nest Analyzer (a piece of software that codes songs according to a number of attributes, such as "acousticness"), and will randomly jump from one part in the song to another that sounds vaguely similar, so that the song never ends. The atmosphere is a hothouse of hacker bravado and record-shop-assistant connoisseurship, something like The Social Network meets High Fidelity.

The Echo Nest's algorithms also conduct searches of what's being said about music online. "We're out there crawling words," says Whitman. "If people start using a word, the system will bubble it up." If something called EDM-core -- "I'm making it up" -- starts showing up on blogs, it could become a meaningful term to associate with a number of artists.

Semantic searching has its challenges, as McDonald notes. "The biggest problem is ambiguity," he says. Take something as simple as an artist's name. "There's a Polish death-metal band called Hate, there's a Compton rapper called Hate, there's a Japanese pop band called Hate." Humans can use contextual clues to disambiguate, "but the people writing about them are not putting unique identifiers about them -- it can be hard to tell which is which."

The big problem with an acoustic-based recommendation system is that just because a computer deems that two things sound alike does not mean a human will. Take Miley Cyrus. "You could sort of line up Miley Cyrus with a few indie female singer-songwriters," says Lemere. "There was a very similar acoustic footprint. But you'd never put Miley in that singer-songwriter cluster -- the cultural mismatch would just be too bad." What Lemere is talking about is perhaps the greatest machine-learning challenge of all: human taste.

What you listen to, Whitman argues, is the most direct route to who you are. "Music preference can predict more about you than anything else," he says. "If all I knew about you was the last five books you read, I wouldn't know much about you." Music is personal; people talk about "my music" in discussing playlists and collections. The Echo Nest, in a typical exercise called "What's Your Stereotype?", asks users to reveal the kind of music they like. It then delivers a profile; in Wired's case, it was witheringly accurate: "Hipster barista".

Whitman says that although the company's algorithms had become pretty good at making sense of music, they had less of a grip "on understanding how listeners relate to it". So its latest big push is what it calls its "Taste Profile" technology. At its furthest horizon, this is about using music to understand people's other affinities. In one exercise, The Echo Nest correlated listening preferences to political affiliation (expressed via data such as Facebook Likes). It turns out that, in the US, Pink Floyd are primarily liked by Republicans. Whitman speculates this has primarily to do with the changing demographics of an ageing fan base. Mining the data revealed other tendencies: Democrats liked more music genres (ten) than Republicans (seven); but liking The Beatles predicted nothing in the way of political preference.

Curiously, the least predictive of all genres when it came to political affiliation was heavy metal. Loud and rebellious apparently cuts all kinds of ways.

One day, political campaigns may choose not to bother approaching voters who play a lot of Nordic metal on Spotify. But for now, a challenge looms for online listening services: maintaining listeners. A recent Echo Nest white paper notes that the majority of users of services such as Pandora and Rdio are inactive, and thus contribute little advertising value. "We have some really scary numbers from some of our customers about the sort of churn rate of people who will sign up for a free trial and never listen to anything," says Whitman. Call it search fright: you sign up for a service that has everything you could ever want to listen to, and suddenly the prospect of listening to any one thing becomes overwhelming. Not to mention the question of what to play after that.

The Echo Nest believes that figuring out what kind of listener you are -- rather than just knowing what you listened to -- is the key to engagement. So it is modelling attributes such as "mainstreamness" -- how far out do your tastes go compared to other listeners'? Are Radiohead experimental for you, or about as popular as you'll go? Or what it calls "taste freeze" -- does all of your listening tend to cluster in a particular time in your life? "A lot of our customers have this problem where the people who have money to pay for a streaming service tend to be a bit older," says Whitman. "They're slowing down discovering new music. It's a big problem for [streaming services] because the more music you discover, the longer you stay on." And there is, as always, the tyranny of the skip button, which not only provides an exact measure of when a playlist stopped appealing to someone, it arguably makes it harder to deliver that playlist. Whitman notes that when The Echo Nest designed playlisting applications for radio companies, this button faced resistance from programmers. "They think the road to getting people to like a new song is forcing them to listen to it four or five times," he says. Indeed, research backs this up: in what's called the "mere exposure" effect, people's liking for all kinds of music goes up the more they are exposed to it. After all, every song is unfamiliar at some point.

Of course, there is more to our relationship with music than a set of curated preferences. Whitman suggests the next frontier in discovery and playlisting will get deeper into how people actually interact with music. As he noted at a talk at Microsoft, "not just what they skip, ban and recommend, but when? Did they just break up with their girlfriend?" He calls it watching people "fumbling with music".

Music today is like a non-stop sound track running through people's lives. Adrian North, a professor of psychology at Australia's Curtin University, says that music has become so pervasive that, although it still forms a central part of people's identity, "it's as though it's become so omnipresent that they've almost forgotten about it". Where it was once at the centre of vital subcultures, now "music just sits there enmeshed with a gazillion other apps on your iPhone. You can't separate your musical identity from the rest of your identity any more."

Having access to any song you want has only closed this circle, says North. He points to research by his lab suggesting that people's music selection is tied to what they're doing: while commuting, for example, music is "almost like a safe haven". What's ironic, he notes, is that what makes this sort of analysis possible is the very device that's playing the music -- and those people, like The Echo Nest, that are paying attention.

Lamere sees this as one of the next frontiers of music recommendation: "Being able to understand a person's context and what kind of music they want to listen to, and playing it for them." The phone, he says, "knows whether I'm running or browsing the web." But the APIs for converting this context into musical data are underdeveloped. As Whitman says, the privacy settings on smartphones typically do not apply to music apps: "They'll have to add that soon."

For now, Lamere says, "our smartphones look very similar to cassette players from 30 years ago. You've got a 'play' button and that's about it." But if your phone knows so much about you -- where you are, what you are doing and what kind of music you like, why should we even have to choose the song we want to hear?
Tom Vanderbilt wrote about Autodesk in Wired 10.13
This article was first published in the February 2014 issue of WIRED magazine

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Echo Nest knows your music, your voting choice

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This article was taken from the February 2014 issue of Wired magazine. Be the first to read Wired's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by subscribing online . The Echo Nest helps music services from Spotify to Rdio and Rhapsody suggest tunes you'll like.

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MUSICROAMER: Enter an artist name and click 'Go' to begin discovering new music.

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MUSICROAMER: Enter an artist name and click 'Go' to begin discovering new music.

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Discover new music. Find related artists. Get top tracks, album listings and listen to free music

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This is an ongoing attempt at an algorithmically-generated, readability-adjusted scatter-plot of the musical genre-space, based on data tracked and analyzed for 1628 genres by Spotify.

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musica popular amazonense

norwegian alternative rock

australian classical piano

turkish singer-songwriter

vintage french electronic

brazilian classical piano

indonesian alternative rock

musica portuguesa contemporanea

vietnamese singer-songwriter

caucasian classical piano

nordic contemporary classical

italian contemporary jazz

native american spiritual

romanian contemporary classical

deep indie singer-songwriter

preschool children's music

american modern classical

progressive post-hardcore

dutch experimental electronic

finnish progressive metal

vintage french psychedelic

historic classical performance

japanese psychedelic rock

musica popular colombiana

historic piano performance

dutch contemporary classical

hungarian contemporary classical

danish contemporary classical

contemporary classical piano

african-american classical

austrian contemporary classical

american contemporary classical

instrumental progressive metal

electroacoustic composition

musica cristiana guatemalteca

irish contemporary classical

japanese alternative rock

historically informed performance

traditional irish singing

canadian children's music

australian alternative pop

korean contemporary classical

argentine alternative rock

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musica popular amazonense norwegian alternative rock australian classical piano turkish singer-songwriter vintage french electronic brazilian classical piano indonesian alternative rock musica portuguesa contemporanea vietnamese singer-songwriter caucasian classical piano nordic contemporary classical italian contemporary jazz native american spiritual romanian contemporary classical deep indie singer-songwriter preschool children's music american modern classical progressive

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Rising UK music consumption enjoys fastest growth this Millennium

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Rising UK music consumption enjoys fastest growth this Millennium

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"Ed Sheeran was the year’s most streamed artist ahead of Drake, with Shape of You the most streamed song and four tracks in the top- 10."

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Official figures released today by record labels' association the BPI, based on Official Charts Company data, reveal a strong year for British recorded music, with UK consumption across all formats in 2017 growing at its fastest rate this millennium.

A total of 135.1 million albums or their equivalent were either streamed, purchased on physical format, and/or downloaded over the past 12 months. This represents a 9.5 per cent rise on 2016 and marks a third year of consecutive volume growth.

UK acts accounted for eight of the top-10 best-selling artist albums in 2017, with Ed Sheeran leading another successful year for British artists by laying claim to his own personal 'grand slam'. Divide was the year's most streamed, physically purchased (both on CD and LP) and downloaded album - marking the 13 th year in a row that the best-selling artist album has come from a British act ⁴. Ed also claimed the year's biggest single with Shape of You, whilst his hit Perfect gave him his first Christmas No.1 single to round off a remarkable year.

The strength of the home market was further underlined by the emergence of Rag'n'Bone Man as a major new force in British music alongside exciting solo acts such as Stormzy, Dua Lipa, J Hus, BRIT School alumnus Loyle Carner and Mercury Prize winner Sampha. There were also impressive first-time No.1 albums from Liam Gallagher, Paloma Faith and Harry Styles, whilst Little Mix continued to power on as one of the UK's most successful acts - their 2016 release Glory Days is heading towards 3x Platinum status and was in the year's top five best-selling artist albums. Sam Smith's The Thrill of It All also made the year's artist top-5 to consolidate his status as a major star around the world, while Michael Ball and Alfie Boe followed up 2016's debut success with Together Again claiming a top-10 spot. Taking compilation sales into account, the Official Chart for combined albums featured three titles - Now 98, Now 97 and Now 96 - in the overall top-5.

Geoff Taylor, Chief Executive BPI & BRIT Awards said: " Demand for music in the UK is growing fast, driven by brilliant British artists such as Ed Sheeran, Sam Smith, Rag'n'Bone Man, Little Mix, Stormzy and Dua Lipa and the innovative music industry that supports them.

"Whilst the rapid growth of streaming and resilient demand for physical formats gives us confidence for the future, it is important to remember that the music industry still has a long way to go to recover fully. Structural challenges must be overcome if long-term growth is to be sustained. First we must continue to fight the 'Value Gap'⁵, so that all digital platforms pay fairly for their use of music. Second, Government must ensure our musicians are able to tour freely even after we leave the EU. Finally, we should make the UK the best place to invest in new content by forging an online environment that is safe for consumers and where illegal sites cannot flourish. If we do this, the future for British music, which is already one of our leading exports, will be very bright. "
Streaming now accounts for over half of UK music consumption; 1.5bn weekly streams milestone
The year's strong growth in demand for recorded music was driven by a staggering 68.1 billion audio streams served through Spotify, Apple Music, Deezer and other audio streaming services. This represents a 51.5 per cent rise on 2016 and a remarkable 1,740 per cent increase since 2012.

Streaming now accounts for over half (50.4%) of all domestic music consumption, and in December the market witnessed a new landmark of 1.5 billion audio streams in a single week ⁶. Ed Sheeran was the year's most streamed artist ahead of Drake, with Shape of You the most streamed song and four tracks in the top- 10. Little Mix were the third most streamed, while Calvin Harris, Coldplay and Stormzy also made the top-10.
Vinyl LPs enjoy a decade of consecutive growth, with over 4 million copies purchased in 2017
The vinyl revival continues, with 4.1 million LPs purchased in 2017 - a rise of 26.8 per cent over the 12-month period and up by a notable 1,892 per cent since their low point of just 205,000 copies sold in 2007. Vinyl LP sales are now at their highest level since the start of the Nineties (1991), with close to 40,000 albums released on vinyl in 2017 ⁷. Almost one in 10 of all physical purchases are now on vinyl format.

Though still relatively small compared to streaming (50.4%) and even CD (30.8%), vinyl increasingly occupies a growing niche that now accounts for 3.0 per cent of the music consumed. The format has become part of an established multi-channel landscape where many consumers of all backgrounds appreciate the utility of streaming services to discover music that is new to them and which cater to their daily listening needs, whilst purchasing recordings by favoured artists on vinyl and CD that they may wish to gift, own and collect.

Ed Sheeran's Divide was the most purchased album on vinyl LP (and on CD), ahead of Liam Gallagher, whose first solo release As You Were enjoyed the highest week one sales of the year and in over 20 years. Amy Winehouse's classic Back To Black claimed a top-5 spot for the third year in a row, whilst Rag'n'Bone Man, Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Oasis and David Bowie were other British artists to make up the vinyl LP top-10.

Vanessa Higgins, CEO Regent St & Gold Bar Records, and an independent label member of BPI Council who heads up the BPI's Innovation Hub, said: "Music is now made and enjoyed in so many ways, and this process is constantly evolving to create ever-greater choice. Smart speakers are just the latest innovation likely to have a transformative effect on digital music consumption and discovery, and how this develops may well be the story of 2018. As an independent label we look forward to continuing advancements in technology that will enable even more, smaller artists to produce new music and find their audience, not least on vinyl."

Matt Ingham of independent label Cherry Red Records, famous for its catalogue on vinyl & CD, said:
"The music industry is in a permanent state of transformation. Genuine discovery is coming from the fresh resurgence in vinyl, the robust CD market and via the burgeoning streaming platforms. The combination of new and old technology means the industry can continue to rise to the challenge of providing the public with music to treasure forever."

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Rising UK music consumption enjoys fastest growth this Millennium - bpi

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Official figures released today by record labels' association the BPI, based on Official Charts Company data, reveal a strong year for British recorded music, with UK consumption across all formats in 2017 growing at its fastest rate this millennium.

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U.S. Music Consumption Up 12.5% in 2017, R&B/Hip-Hop Is Year's Most Popular Genre

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U.S. Music Consumption Up 12.5% in 2017, R&B/Hip-Hop Is Year's Most Popular Genre

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R&B/hip-hop music was the year's biggest genre, accounting for 24.5 percent of all music consumed.

According to Nielsen Music, total music consumption in the U.S. in 2017 climbed 12.5 percent to 636.65 million units (up from 566.1 million). That figure adds together traditional album sales, track equivalent album units, and on-demand streaming equivalent album units from both video and audio streams. One track equivalent album unit is equal to 10 tracks sold. One streaming equivalent album unit is equal to 1,500 on-demand streams.

In terms of audio-only consumption (removing on-demand video streams from the equation), the gain was 10.2 percent, rising to 491.55 million units (from 446.12 million).
Nielsen Music's 2017 tracking year ran from Dec. 30, 2016 through Dec. 28, 2017. Numbers in this story are rounded. Nielsen Music began electronically tracking music sales and data in 1991.
Additionally, the R&B/hip-hop genre represented 24.5 percent of all music consumption in the U.S. -- the largest share of any genre and the first time R&B/hip-hop has led this measurement for a calendar year. (The 24.5 percent share represents a combination of album sales, track equivalent album units and streaming equivalent album units -- including both on-demand audio and video streams.) The rock genre is in second place for the year, with 20.8 percent share.

R&B/hip-hop also led Nielsen's mid-year report -- the first time R&B/hip-hop had overtaken rock as music's biggest genre at mid-year.

Seven of the year's top 10 most popular albums were R&B/hip-hop efforts, led by Kendrick Lamar's DAMN., which was the No. 2 overall album, according to Nielsen Music. The set earned 2.747 million equivalent album units in 2017.

DAMN.'s 2.747 million equivalent album units figure is a multi-metric consumption total, which includes traditional album sales, track equivalent albums (TEA) and on-demand audio streaming equivalent albums (SEA). The multi-metric formula is also used to compile the weekly Billboard 200 albums chart, which ranks the most popular albums of the week in the U.S.

Aside from DAMN.'s placing at No. 2 on the year-end top 10 albums list (see below), R&B/hip-hop sets also populated the tally at Nos. 4-8 and 10.

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U.S. Music Consumption Up 12.5% in 2017, R&B/Hip-Hop Is Year's Most Popular Genre

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According to Nielsen Music, total music consumption in the U.S. in 2017 climbed 12.5 percent to 636.65 million units (up from 566.1 million). That figure adds together traditional album sales, track equivalent album units, and on-demand streaming equivalent album units from both video and audio streams. One track equivalent album unit is equal to 10 tracks sold.

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Smart speakers will fuel the next wave of music consumption and market growth, says new BPI & ERA joint report

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Smart speakers will fuel the next wave of music consumption and market growth, says new BPI & ERA joint report

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"Adoption of this technology will encourage shared listening and a possible shift away from radio towards on-demand streaming."

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Hip-hop is king, cassettes are back, and other music business facts that may surprise you

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Hip-hop is king, cassettes are back, and other music business facts that may surprise you

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People are listening to more music than ever, just not the way they used to.

For the first time, music streaming is clearly outpacing actual music sales.

At the end of 2016, a statistic used to define the streaming equivalent of album sales and actual album sales totals ran about even. A year later, streaming statistics had risen so rapidly that streaming enjoyed an 83 percent advantage over sales in 2017.

Meanwhile, hip-hop's popularity has grown so dramatically that it has become music's most popular genre - for the first time outpacing rock, country and pop.

And things are changing so fast that industry experts have created a new means for measuring music's popularity.

Industry groups and artists themselves are looking away from the traditional sales metric and turning to a statistic called music "consumption."

(If you're new to streaming, it can be explained as on-demand online plays of music using services such as Spotify, Tidal and Apple Music. Consumers don't need to purchase albums or individual songs to hear them; rather, they pay a fee to listen to an unlimited number of songs online or on their smartphones.)

Traditionally, industry experts used album sales - purchases of physical items such as CDs, vinyl records, cassettes - as their main metric. Eventually the statistic changed to also include digital downloads from online retailers such as iTunes.

And these changes have fueled another first: People are listening to more music than ever, whether they're buying it, streaming it or tuning in on the radio.

Now, with streaming such a huge part of the industry, analysts are combining album sales totals with two other figures to create the consumption statistic. Those numbers are "track equivalent albums" (10 digital single sales via stores such as iTunes equal one album sold) and "streaming equivalent albums" (1,500 song streams on a service like Spotify equal one album sold).

Yes, it's a lot to process. And so were some of the numbers coming out of the music industry last year.

Overall music consumption increased by 12.5 percent year over year in 2017, according to Nielsen, which tracks music industry data. Consumption rose from 566.1 million combined sales and streams in 2016 to 636.6 million last year.

This despite a drop in physical and digital album sales from 277.9 million in 2016 to 224.6 million in 2017, a dip of nearly 20 percent. By comparison, streaming totals jumped from 288 million in 2016 to 412 million in 2017.

In the end, perhaps streaming's rise can best be seen in a decline in album sales, which have decreased in each of the past five years, dropping from 415 million in 2013 to last year's 224 million.

Those weren't the only trends we noticed in music consumption. Local record stores still saw good business, especially in hip-hop. Plus people are still buying vinyl in record numbers. And lots are buying cassettes. (Seriously.)

The record store effect

While physical album sales decline nationally, they're still a viable business for two of Omaha's most prominent retailers.

"CD is still the No. 1," said Neil Azevedo, director of operations at Drastic Plastic Underground. "It's still the strongest physical product ever."

Business is similar at Homer's Music, where CDs still outsell vinyl 2-to-1, according to general manager Mike Fratt.

"We were up again for the year," he said. "We've been up for nine years in a row."

Nationwide, physical album sales declined more than 16 percent in 2017. Still, the 102.9 million physical album sales outpaced the 66.2 million sold digitally, according to Nielsen.

The hip-hop effect

Of all music consumed in 2017, hip-hop and R&B were the top genre; Nielsen combines the two into one category.

Though rock claimed the largest slice of pie in album sales, streaming and digital song sales fueled hip-hop and R&B's dominance. The genre took a 24.5 percent share of all music consumption (which, again, is a combination of album sales, track sales and streams).

Nine of the 10 most-streamed artists were in R&B and hip-hop.

At Homer's, rapper Kendrick Lamar's album "DAMN." was the store's top title last year.

"Our hip-hop business is robust in both CD and vinyl," Fratt said. "A couple years ago, we weren't bringing in some of the lesser-known hip-hop artists. Now we bring in pretty much all of it."

Even Drastic Plastic, traditionally a punk- and rock-focused store, has seen a spike in hip-hop sales. Records from Run the Jewels and Death Grips are big sellers there. Azevedo attributes that change to more savvy fans whose interests cross into multiple genres. Kids in the '80s and '90s tended to stick to a single subculture, he said.

One segment of physical album sales continues to rise year over year: vinyl.

Sales of new vinyl records have increased for 12 consecutive years.

New vinyl sales hit 14.3 million in 2017. That's way up from 2008, when 1.88 million vinyl albums were sold, according to Nielsen.

The top-selling vinyl LP of 2017 was a reissue of The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," which sold 72,000 copies.

Justin Bieber didn't release an album in 2017, but he ranked among the year's most successful singers with two No. 1 singles on Billboard's Hot 100 as well as the most-streamed song, most-viewed video and the most-downloaded song. How did he do that? By appearing in a series of high-profile feature spots including Luis Fonzi and Daddy Yankee's "Despacito," DJ Khaled's "I'm the One," David Guetta's "2U" and BloodPop's "Friends."

The Prince effect

Fans of the Purple One had a big 2017. Prince's entire catalog was released to streaming services in February 2017, and his music was streamed 4.7 million times in the first 48 hours. "Purple Rain," "Let's Go Crazy" and "When Doves Cry" were streamed more than 300,000 times each in the first 48 hours.

The cassette effect (Cassettes? Really?)

Who still buys cassette tapes? Lots of people. In 2017, 174,000 new cassette tapes were sold nationally. It was the largest sales for tapes in five years.

Top artists of 2017, by consumption

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Hip-hop is king, cassettes are back, and other music business facts that may surprise you

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People are listening to more music than ever, just not the way they used to. For the first time, music streaming is clearly outpacing actual music sales. At the end of 2016, a statistic used to define the streaming equivalent of album sales and actual album sales totals ran about even.

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Indie Rock and Mainstream Pop are Thematically, Instrumentally, and Structurally Analogous

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Indie Rock and Mainstream Pop are Thematically, Instrumentally, and Structurally Analogous

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PRITCHARD

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"Indie Rock and Mainstream Pop are Thematically, Instrumentally, and St" by Sean D. Pritchard

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Millennials have inconsistently defined indie rock since it was thrust onto the mainstream in 2004 with the breakout success of Modest Mouse's Float On, Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out, and Zach Braff's Garden State. Indie rock is not defined by its sound, thereby disqualifying it as a pure genre.

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Our aim is to make discovering music as simple and social as possible by making you a curator of music.

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Millions of songs on Spotify have been forgotten.

Let’s give them new life in new ears – yours.

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Millions of songs on Spotify have been forgotten. Let's give them new life in new ears - yours.

As Featured On

We love music.

That's why we were so shocked to learn that millions of Spotify songs had been played only partially or never at all. A musical travesty, really. So we set out to give these neglected songs another way to reach your earholes, and Forgotify was born.

Recently Discovered

Like giving love to the stuff everyone seems to have forgotten?

Inspired by Forgotify

Like giving love to the stuff everyone seems to have forgotten? Check out these other projects:

Want your music featured on Forgotify?

If you've got something to say we're all ears.

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Millions of songs on Spotify have been forgotten. Let's give them new life in new ears - yours. As Featured On That's why we were so shocked to learn that millions of Spotify songs had been played only partially or never at all. A musical travesty, really.

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Forgotify plays never-listened-to Spotify songs

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Forgotify plays never-listened-to Spotify songs

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A new music streaming service that only plays songs that no-one has listened to on Spotify has been launched.

According to data released by Spotify only 80% of the 20 million songs on its site have been listened to at least once.

The founders of Forgotify said that the four million unheard tracks were "a musical travesty".

Users of Forgotify have to be logged in to Spotify for it to work.

Once logged in, listeners are presented with a track that they can listen to and share. If it is not to their taste there is a "next" button that will offer them another previously unplayed track.

'Neglected songs'

Jazzy American Ballads for Piano, and Sally in Our Alley, Op. 108, No. 25 by Robert White from the album "Robert White Sings Beethoven (Remastered)" were two examples of the unheard tracks listed on the new service.

Lane Jordan, J Hausmann and Nate Gagnon, who set up Forgotify, said that they were lovers of music and that they were giving "these neglected songs another way to reach your earholes".

Mr Jordan said in an interview with Time that the website uses an embedded Spotify player and runs a program searching Spotify for songs with a "0″ popularity rating, indicating that the song has never been selected by a user.

He said any song that has been played even once is removed.

Although he added that the four million unlistened-to tracks are unlikely to decline as Spotify adds new music all the time.

Twitter users were keen to talk about the new service but one did wonder how popular the music would be.

"Lovely idea, surfacing songs that have never been played on Spotify. However, there's usually a reason they're ignored," tweeted @superglaze.

A spokesperson for Spotify said they had no comment to make about Forgotify's launch.

Music is listed on Spotify via record labels or "aggregators" that already have a delivery model in place with the company.

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A new music streaming service that only plays songs that no-one has listened to on Spotify has been launched. According to data released by Spotify only 80% of the 20 million songs on its site have been listened to at least once. The founders of Forgotify said that the four million unheard tracks were "a musical travesty".

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If albums had something of a soft landing on the pop landscape in 2017, then songs more than picked up the headline-grabbing slack. It was a year of Cardi B replacing Taylor Swift atop the Billboard Hot 100, of Rihanna and Justin Bieber dominating the calendar without so much as a solo lead single from either, of Camila Cabello and Harry Styles striking out of their own, and of DJ Khaled and Calvin Harris going pop-star crowd-sourcing. It was a year of "Despacito" and BTS making international chart history, while Portugal. The Man and Sam Hunt did so domestically.

And even with all this, it was still a year where the very best singles might not have been the very biggest. From "Paris" to "Malibu," "North East South West" and everywhere in between, here are Billboard's 100 favorite songs of 2017.
100. Lady Gaga, "The Cure" 99. The Killers, "The Man"
In 2017, we welcomed back synth-rock veterans The Killers with open arms. Their fifth studio album Wonderful Wonderful debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 and its lead single "The Man" hit No. 1 on Billboard's Adult Alternative Songs chart. "The Man" is a satirical look back at a brazen, young Brandon Flowers circa 2003-04 during the band's introduction to the world. The song radiates confidence with a disco stomp as glitzy as the Las Vegas strip, and guitar riffs that demand a Travolta-like strut. Over a decade later, Flowers and his glamorous blazers are still headed for the frontman hall of fame. -- JOE KELLEY
98. Julien Baker, "Turn Out the Lights"
Listening to the confessional musings of 22-year old singer-songwriter Julien Baker can sometimes feel like looking in a mirror and seeing your truest self exposed. The devastating imagery in Baker's songwriting has always felt relatable and raw, but on her sophomore album Turn Off The Lights, she's paired her incisive insights with a sonic balm of beautifully layered reverb guitar. On the title track, Baker finds clarity in the emptiness that colors her darkness by embracing the parts of herself that only come to light when "there's no one left/ Between myself and me," leading to one of the most cathartic climaxes of the year. -- BRYAN KRESS
97. Halsey feat. Lauren Jauregui, "Strangers"
Our staff favorite from Halsey's sophomore album, this sultry, Greg Kurstin-produced synth-pop firework was the 23 year old's self-described stab at getting an all-female love song on pop radio. So far, it's remained just a sterling album cut (it peaked at No. 100 on the Hot 100 in its lone week on the chart) but certainly not over a lack of chemistry between Halsey and her duet partner. When Fifth Harmony's Lauren Jauregui takes the reins on verse two, lovesick desperation drips from her husky croon, enough to match Halsey's opening yearning ("She doesn't kiss me on the mouth anymore") and channel a whole relationship's worth of severed nerve endings. -- CHRIS PAYNE
96. Justin Bieber & BloodPop, "Friends"
Building his cachet over the past few years by co-producing every song on Lady Gaga's Joanne and a handful off Madonna's Rebel Heart, BloodPop reunited with Justin Bieber -- he also produced five songs on 2015's Purpose, including the achingly affecting Hot 100-topper "Sorry" -- for his co-billed single "Friends," lifting Bieber out of his tropical house haze and thankfully centering him once again in propulsive electro-pop. -- STEVEN J. HOROWITZ
95. Smino, "Anita"
One of the most joyful songs of the year, "Anita" is Smino's ode to the women in his life. It's a love song, but the rare sort that makes room for platonic and familial love, in addition to the romantic variety. Over Monte Booker's warm production, the 26-year-old St. Louis native raps in his breezy, sing-song flow, "Bing! How that spotlight beam on you/ Green light, you better go" -- at least that's what it'd look like on paper, without his croon stretching the words in various buttery directions. Just like how he turns that name, Anita, into "I need her" in the exuberant chorus. -- ROSS SCARANO
94. Dej Loaf, "No Fear"
Dej Loaf's ode to loving with abandon deserved better than its No. 100 cameo on the Hot 100. With its instantly memorable chorus and sun-bleached disco-meets-hip-hop swagger, this laid-back summer stunner is the Detroit native's most pop-friendly offering to date, and warrants a spot on every poolside playlist for the rest of eternity. -- PATRICK CROWLEY
93. Tash Sultana, "Jungle"
The breakthrough hit from Australian singer/songwriter Tash Sultana is both a gorgeously toxic ballad of emotional decay, and good exemplification of the lesson that if a song needs over three genres (alt-reggae-psych-jazz?) to be described anywhere near accurately, it's probably something pretty special. Of course, as beautiful as the radio edit's serpentine may be, the real fun and games are found in the song's eight-minute live bedroom take, where Sultana untaps levels of soul in loop pedals and guitar noodling to make jam bands across the globe weep in shame. -- ANDREW UNTERBERGER
92. SOPHIE, "It's Okay to Cry"
London producer Sophie spent the past few years constructing hyper-reality pop confections crackling with energy, marked by collabs with Madonna and Charli XCX. Largely known for staying out of the public eye, she made a public pronouncement with the release of the slowly unfurling "It's Okay to Cry," the heart-piercing first trickle of what promises to follow Sophie's 2015 album Product. In a near whisper, she delicately builds towards an explosive denouement, without losing any of the cool remove. -- S.J.H.
91. JAY-Z, "4:44"
On the title track of JAY-Z's Grammy-nominated album, the rap legend publicly lays bare his own vulnerabilities as he comes clean about his womanizing and unfaithfulness to wife Beyoncé. A soulful loop lifted from another song about infidelity, Hannah Williams and the Affirmations' "Late Nights and Heartbreak," underscores JAY-Z's forthright introspection ("I suck at love"). Then the rapper and producer No I.D. double down on the song's powerful lament with the addition of yearning vocals from gospel singer Kim Burrell. -- GAIL MITCHELL
90. Bonobo feat. Rhye, "Break Apart"
British DJ-artist-producer Bonobo (real name Simon Green) may not yet be a household name, but 2017's reflective Migration album really put him on the map, debuting at No. 1 on the Top Dance/Electronic Albums chart and even earning him a best dance/electronic album Grammy nod. With soulful vocals from R&B duo Rhye, second single "Break Apart" has an ethereal sound, with jazzy textures and loops of sped-up harp chords. The song's slow-building beauty meshes perfectly with the heart-wrenching lyrics -- "You're my favorite, You're my favorite... but we're phasing, but we're phasing..." -- making it one of the year's best breakup songs for staring longingly out the window. -- JAYME KLOCK
89. Vince Staples, "Big Fish"
The quasi-title track off Vince Staples' Big Fish Theory comes in the form of a smug I-told-you-so. "Shoulda been dead broke, shoulda been chalked out/ But it didn't happen, now it's time to get it cracking," the rapper brags, reflecting on his gang violence-stricken upbringing in Long Beach as Juicy J counts "hundreds by the thousands" over slick, zig-zagging keys in the gaps. Let him gloat: Here, Staples offers a smart musing on his own fame that boasts about life on the bright side while also ruminating on the shadow behind. -- TATIANA CIRISANO
88. Ozuna, "Se Preparo"
Puerto Rico's new enfant terrible may be the most sensitive reggaetonero around. Ozuna ended the year as the top new Latin artist and the artist with most tracks on the Hot Latin songs chart, 19 -- among those, the solo-sung "Se preparó" stands out as an example of Ozuna's predilection for strong melodic lines over rhymes, and for lyrical content over simple rhymes. "Se preparó" (She Got Ready) -- a story about a girl preparing for a big night out even though she knows her boyfriend is cheating on her -- was poignant, but also packed a slyness that hooked us from the first line. -- LEILA COBO
87. The Chainsmokers, "Paris"
For a while there it seemed like The Chainsmokers couldn't miss with their go-to formula of pairing pop-leaning electro beats with irresistible female vocals on the hook, and "Paris" continued that streak. The wistful, nostalgic lyrics of its verses -- "We were staying in Paris/To get away from your parents" -- and Emily Warren's hook ("If we go down then we go down together") make it a late-party playlist staple, while its steady build to the climactic finale cements it as a future classic pop hit. -- DAN RYS
86. Greta Van Fleet, "Black Smoke Rising"
Over the hills and far away - in Bavaria-influenced Frankenmuth, Mich. - the Kiszka brothers and drummer Danny Wagner are being hailed as the second coming of Led Zeppelin. That's a heavy burden to bear, but it's pretty impossible to avoid the comparison after listening to "Black Smoke Rising." Vocalist Josh Kiszka sounds like Robert Plant without the mileage -- not yet a golden god but on his way to bronze at least. His guitarist sibling Jake has clearly studied Jimmy Page's locomotive riffs, and the song's vaguely medieval imagery resembles Zep's Middle Earth rockery. Time will tell if the Fleet ever joins its forebears in rock n' roll Valhalla, but right now, the track's anthemic, go-for-broke chorus -- "It's the new age crisis / And we will stand up in the cold" -- makes it feel like 1969 again. -- FRANK DIGIACOMO
85. 21 Savage, Offset & Metro Boomin, "Ghostface Killers" 84. Imagine Dragons, "Thunder"
With a title like "Thunder," it was reasonable to guess that Imagine Dragons were following up their pounding Evolve smash "Believer" with another explosive rock anthem. Nope: Instead, "Thunder" is relatively stripped down, and between its soldierly cadence and a bouncy, helium-inflated, one-word hook, it makes for a curious pop gem. -- P.C.
83. Tee Grizzley, "First Day Out"
Few hip-hop hits in 2017 had a backstory as compelling as "First Day Out," Detroit rapper Tee Grizzly's reflection on his year-long prison stint, recorded on the day of his release. Similarly, few moments within all of popular music this year possessed the kinetic force of the beat drop at the 1:29 mark, which completed its transition from meditation to elbows-up banger. -- JASON LIPSHUTZ
82. Daniel Caesar feat. Kali Uchis, "Get You"
From the celestial fade-in on Daniel Caesar's album opener "Get You," there's a clear signal that an out-of-this-world talent has landed. While the Toronto crooner almost immediately ascends with a nimble falsetto, his mind stays grounded in a sumptuous meditation on beauty and commitment ("I'll take some time just to be thankful that I had days full of you"). The unabashed love song operates on multiple levels with balanced couplets that celebrate physical attraction as much as deeper connections, and it reaches even greater heights with a sultry assist from Kali Uchis, who sails above the production with hushed reassurances. -- B.K.
81. Alice Merton, "No Roots"
Alice Merton has been everywhere, man: Germany, Canada, England, the U.S. That no-fixed-zip code kind of living informs debut single "No Roots," which almost revels in displacement - since, after all, the alt-pop singer-songwriter's home "was never on the ground." Chances are you've heard the delectable bass line that kicks off this song, and it's remained implanted in your brain in the hours after. -- KEVIN RUTHERFORD
80. Arcade Fire, "Everything Now"
The only truly effective promo moment from Arcade Fire's now-infamous Everything Now campaign was one the band stumbled into accidentally: When a record shop in Barcelona got an advance copy of the title-track single, and couldn't help but share a video of them playing it in-store. The clip was quickly pulled, of course, but its lo-fi enthusiasm was everything the rest of the LP cycle wasn't -- organic, intimate, fun -- and it was matched by the giddiness of the song itself, which took a Talking Heads approach to ABBA for an alt-disco stadium filler that probably should've been titled "Everything '77." -- A.U.
79. Dagny, "Love You Like That"
"You know how they say you got the real thing/ When nothing else matters/ I love you like that," Norwegian pop newcomer Dagny declares on the effervescent "Love You Like That" chorus. It reads conversationally, but thanks to the rapid vocal delivery, it sounds euphoric: The latest entry in pop's long history of true-love revelations captures the giddiness of realizing that you've found your partner, and aren't afraid to shout it out to the world. -- J. Lipshutz
78. Big Sean, "Bounce Back"
"Everything I do is righteous/ Betting on me is the right risk," Big Sean declares on his first top 10 hit as an unassisted lead artist. Indeed, there've been few more consistent winners in '10s hip-hop than Sean Michael Leonard Anderson, which makes this collab with Metro Boomin (in the midst of an even longer undefeated streak) about taking an L a curious proposition. Still, the determination of the hook and the hustle of the verses certainly seem to come from experience; if Sean really is bouncing back, perhaps he's just doing so with Superman-leaping-tall-buildings ease. -- A.U.
77. SZA, "The Weekend" 76. Chris Stapleton, "Second One to Know" 75. Miley Cyrus, "Malibu"
For the Bangerz star with the twerk seen 'round the world, the sun-splashed, carefree pop vibe of "Malibu" -- written about Miley's reconciliation with fiancé Liam Hemsworth -- marked the end of an eventful, if controversial, era. But it also kicked off a refreshing new one: As the 25-year-old croons wistfully about rekindled love over surging acoustic strums, we fall for her all over again. "I never would have believed you if three years ago you told me I'd be here, writing this song," Miley rhapsodizes, and it's hard not to smile in agreement. -- T.C.
74. Marshmello feat. Khalid, "Silence"
Still-anonymous EDM DJ/producer Marhsmello has gained a following for his high-energy, explosive dance tracks - but "Silence," his first Hot 100 top 40 hit, breaks that mold. Khalid's soft-spoken, velvety vocals coaxed more subdued production from Marshmello, and like many unexpected crossovers this year, this too has lyrical timeliness. "I've been quiet for too long" and "I found peace in your violence" provoke a mild-mannered but determined resistance, and create a sense of calm among so much noise. -- LYNDSEY HAVENS
73. Becky G feat. Bad Bunny, "Mayores"
For Becky G, age ain't nothing but a number. On the infectiously syncopated "Mayores" record, which recently topped Taylor Swift's "Look What You Made Me Do" in YouTube views, Becky G chooses trap rapper Bad Bunny, aka El Conejo Malo, to deliver his seasoned rhymes, as the femme fatale echoes her carnal desires for men who are older and wiser. In the end, "Mayores" speaks to the young woman who knows a thing or two about what she wants, and just how she likes it. Two words for Miss Becky -- get it. -- MARJUA ESTEVEZ
72. The xx, "Say Something Loving" 71. Maren Morris, "I Could Use a Love Song"
After crashing the country scene last year with her dynamic breakout hit "My Church" and subsequently earning a Grammy for it in February, Morris followed up her rock-star rookie year by showing her vulnerable side. The more stripped-down, lovelorn "I Could Use a Love Song" is relatable for any music lover who's had their heart broken - and although Morris is asking for a love song to help ease the pain, in 2017 she was the one who actually provided it. -- TAYLOR WEATHERBY
70. Miguel, "Told You So"
Since he first stepped foot into the R&B game, Miguel has swept listeners away with transportive seduction anthems. For his fourth album, War & Leisure, Miguel cut back on the baby-making jams to voice his disdain against the ills of the world. His socially charged record "Told You So" is layered with an electric soundscape, indelible lyrics like "Every pleasure you taste has its price," and a video packed with a slew of political messages. If the world ever crumbles due to global strife, at least Miguel can sit back and laugh that he... well, you know. -- CARL LAMARRE
69. Migos, "T-Shirt" 68. Maluma, "Felices Los 4"
Colombian heartthrob Maluma caused a ruckus with "Cuatro Babys," his hit single where he brags about having four women at his beck and call. Unfazed, he followed up with "Felices los cuatro," a far more romantic take on multiple lovers -- but this time, it's the woman who has more than one, prompting Maluma to croon: "If you're spending time with someone else, let's all four of us be happy together." The mix of melodic pop over the reggeaton beat, with just the right dose of bad boy (and girl) in the lyrics, made it irresistible. -- L.C.
67. Post Malone feat. 21 Savage, "Rockstar"
Post Malone became one of the more polarizing breakout hitmakers of 2017, particularly after this 21 Savage collab spent eight weeks at No. 1 on the Hot 100 at year's end. But ignore Posty's (and even 21's) contributions for a minute, and focus on the gorgeous, disquieting stillness of Tank God & Louis Bell's production: The way the beat pitches down as it kicks in, as if it's literally shifting gears; how it swells like a deep breath just before the refrain starts again, or how it disappears completely at the beginning of 21's verse, saving DJs the trouble of having to drop the audio themselves. No Bon Scott-big-upping tribute to living like a rock star has ever been this unnervingly serene. -- A.U.
66. Rex Orange County, "Loving Is Easy" 65. Mura Masa feat. A$AP Rocky, "Love$ick"
Mura Masa's "Lovesick" originally came out in 2015 and, after getting remixed by Four Tet in 2016, got the dollar-sign treatment from A$AP Rocky for the super-producer's self-titled LP this year. The Guernsey-born artist, whose real name is Alex Crossan, described the song as a "twisted-pop, calypso, hip-hop dance track" and added that Rocky's verses "took it to this lovelorn, exotic place." The end result is 3 minutes of sexy unrequited lovesickness that goes from piano to steel drum to techno clap and back before you even realize that A$AP just used the word "melatone" as an adjective. -- J. Klock
64. LCD Soundsystem, "American Dream"
Here comes a dreamy hangover, in James Murphy & Co.'s deft summation of every aging hipster's first-world dread: of realizing that you can't party like you used to, that the routine is getting old, that "you just suck at self-preservation." The chiming chords mark passing time, the closing of doors behind you and the longing to go backward, culminating in an ironic, surf-like refrain. -- RENA GROSS
63. Kelela, "LMK"
Rising D.C. R&B artist Kelela made her official debut album's most accessible track its lead single. On it, she pairs hazy synth and percussive production (along with the recurring sound of a tab being popped) with a chill-girl chorus that sees her repeatedly insist: "No one's tryna settle down/ All you gotta do is let me know." The laid-back energy and spellbinding lyrical delivery on "LMK" highlight what makes Kelela so special -- her heart is in her music. But if and when she does want something more, she'll be sure to let you know. -- L.H.
62. Playboi Carti, "Magnolia"
This year, Playboi Carti, the self-described "Jay Electronica of mumble rap," materialized out of the SoundCloud hype that had surrounded him since his "Broke Boi" blew up two years ago. Armed with a bag of Pi'erre Bourne beats and clout goggles, Carti silenced the doubters with boneless ethereal raps, where structure didn't matter and bars weren't necessary. "Magnolia" was the early standout, with an instantly meme-able producer drop and catchy hook. With lyrics that didn't need advance beyond "Woo!" and "Whet!," everyone milly rocked to Cash Carti as he made the adlib avant-garde. -- R.S.
61. Taylor Swift, "Getaway Car"
In a Rolling Stone feature earlier this year, Harry Styles said that Taylor Swift's music is "the most amazing unspoken dialogue ever." That's evident nowhere on Reputation more than on "Getaway Car," a not-so-subtle farewell to one lover and a hello to a new one (can you guess the suspects?). The song, which Swift belts over a synth-pop beat that you can almost feel Jack Antonoff hovering over, is a Bonnie & Clyde-style action romance -- doomed from the start because, as Taylor says, "nothing good starts in a getaway car." It's unsurprising that Swift wrote yet another perfect pop song, but it is surprising that it hasn't been released as a single yet. -- X.Z.
60. Demi Lovato, "Daddy Issues"
It's inspiring to think how far Demi Lovato has musically evolved since both her Camp Rock days and her pop-punk adjacent 2008 debut Don't Forget. After a string of albums where she dabbled in R&B and relatively safe pop, she harnessed a true experimental spirit for Tell Me You Love Me, her finest full-length to date. Among gems like "Sexy Dirty Love" and "Ruin the Friendship," "Daddy Issues" stands out as one of the strongest, all mysterious and smoky in the verses before exploding into a whopper of a chorus that stings and stabs. -- S.J.H.
59. Calvin Harris feat. Pharrell, Katy Perry & Big Sean, "Feels"
Pharrell's "nothing ever lasts forever" opening to Calvin Harris's summer smash "Feels" is a statement that all but defines the Scottish electronic producer's genre-hopping reinvention. But this one's the smoothest of transitions for Harris -- and the highest-charting hit from his Funk Wav Bounces, Vol. 1 LP, peaking at No. 20 on the Hot 100 -- with his disco sensibilities topped by Williams' slick falsetto, an irresistible hook by Katy Perry and a flirtatious verse by Big Sean to round out the band. With Harris guiding every bass slap and hand clap, there's a whole new reason to catch feelings for the dynamic producer. -- B.K.
58. Frank Ocean feat. JAY-Z, "Biking"
Almost all of Frank Ocean's 2017 releases have been about money and responsibility. His correspondence with Hov must have started to make sense; Frank's acting his net worth now, which means more than fanning out blue faces. You gotta take care of yourself, too, not to mention the people you care about -- even when those people don't exist yet, like the family he imagines late in the song. Of his four loosies this year, "Biking" is the wistful one, anchored by acoustic guitar and gentle percussion, and peppered with the vivid images and similes Frank does so well: "I'm biking downhill and it sound like a fishing rod." And then the song erupts, with Frank barking about his new money, while the grown-up questions about marriage and family fall away, because nothing's fucking with cash. -- R.S.
57. Little Big Town, "Better Man"
Back in January, long before Reputation was even a rumor, Taylor Swift wrote the perfect vintage-Taylor Swift ballad -- for country quartet Little Big Town. In its simple melody, emotionally direct lyrics and bittersweet tone, "Better Man" called to mind Swift classics like "Fifteen" and "All Too Well." It was almost impossible not to imagine Taylor herself singing it -- but if she had, "Better Man" might have registered as just another (very well-written) Swiftian tale of a magical man who once done her wrong. With LBT's Karen Fairchild singing lead in her rich alto, the song takes on some extra gravitas - the regret of a grown woman who blames another even as she admits a breakup takes two. It's a win for everyone involved: a stellar showcase for LBT's gossamer harmonies, and an understated rebuff to anyone who insisted Swift had gone too global to ever return to Nashville. -- REBECCA MILZOFF
56. Lil Uzi Vert feat. Nicki Minaj, "The Way Life Goes" (Remix) 55. Japandroids, "North East South West"
When you have your breakout moment like rock true-believers Japandroids had a half-decade ago, you're going to add a new title to your list of skills in the interim years: jetsetter, or, you know, whatever the van-touring equivalent is. Regardless of transportation mode and no matter the location, "North East South West" fetishizes the journey, namedropping all stretches of North America - but never losing sight of home in the process. That home's Canada, by the way, in case you've never listened to a Japandroids song. Definitely Canada. -- K.R.
54. Charlie Puth, "Attention"
Don't forget to affix a third slash to singer/songwriter Charlie Puth: He's a producer, too, and the sonic detail on "Attention" is jaw-dropping: The pop of the deceptively funky bass line underneath his chorus, the light tick-tock of percussion drawing out the tension in between beats, and (most of all) the way you can hear every mini-crack in Puth's voice on the smartly bungled climactic chorus. It all adds up to a soul-pop jam that just went harder than any of its top 40 peers this year, and proved that Puth might be a little more George Michael than we initially gave him credit for. -- A.U.
53. French Montana feat. Swae Lee, "Unforgettable"
French Montana's "Unforgettable" was one of the hottest songs of the summer, in large part due to Swae Lee's weird, minor-key hook but also because of that pumping beat. The trio 1Mind originally produced the foundation of the steel drum-sampling rhythm for Drake's Views, but it didn't make the cut. The track kicked around from there, with producer Jaegen adding to it, and the final version stars Swae and French, singing and rapping, respectively, on the cavernous banger -- which, no matter how low it goes, never loses that bounce. -- C.W.
52. Father John Misty, "Pure Comedy"
The piano and vocals are vintage Elton John, but the lyrics are firmly rooted in the here and now. Like kindred spirit James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem, Josh Tillman has a preternatural grasp on the culture that shaped him, with a verbal dexterity and wit to match. Born to devout Pentecostal parents shortly before the dawn of the millennial generation, Tillman is an outsider with an insider's perspective -- well-equipped to report from the front. He's the Tom Wolfe of alt-rock, and "Pure Comedy" is his brief history of the world, up to the moment where Trumpism, opioids, religious fundamentalism and the Internet collide in a big bang of pain, suffering and self-involved bullshit. "Now that's what I call pure comedy," Tillman croons. "Just waiting until the part where they start to believe/ They're at the center of everything." -- F.D.
51. Tove Lo, "Disco Tits"
Unlike most top 40 newcomers with a surprise hit to their name, Tove Lo isn't slavishly attempting to recreate the magic of "Habits (Stay High)" on follow-up singles, and the world of pop is more interesting for it. "Disco Tits" is what would happen if the Weeknd's NC-17 alt-R&B met one of Ladytron's chilly dancefloor bops at 3 a.m., and they decided to take things back to Disclosure's place. - J. Lynch
50. 21 Savage, "Bank Account"
Thanks to 21 Savage and his infectious banger, watching your money multiply was the cool thing to do in 2017. Produced by his go-to collaborator Metro Boomin, the "X" star deftly penned an addictive hook that made everyone want to live the lavish life: "I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight Ms in my bank account." 21 Savage was certainly laughing straight to the bank after releasing this Platinum-certified single. -- C.L.
49. BTS, "DNA"
BTS's crossover into the U.S. market isn't a coincidence: The K-pop superstars have been building up to overseas success since 2013. Riding on the momentum of their Billboard Music Awards win for Top Social Artist, ARMYs galvanized to make BTS the highest-charting K-pop group on the Hot 100. The Korean-language lead single off their 2017 album, Love Yourself: Her, is a rich concoction of soft rock and brain-burrowing EDM-pop. The lyrical theme of interconnectedness is meaningful -- "DNA" was one of those rare instances when a K-pop act's transmutation of their American influences was reflected back at the U.S. in full Technicolor. -- CAITLIN KELLEY
48. yaeji, "raingurl"
Its creator called "Raingurl" "the definition of introspection at the club," but this track off yaeji's second 2017 EP is a certified banger to boot. With its subterranean house throb and highly-quotable call-outs ("When the sweaty walls are bangin'/ I don't fuck with family plannin'!"), yaeji brashly serves both ends on this alternate universe dance blockbuster. 2017 was a shit storm of existential dread and actual reasons to be crying in the club, so here's to the upstart singer-producer dropping more like-minded jams to see us through. -- C.P.
47. P!nk, "Beautiful Trauma"
The title track to P!nk's latest came out in Oct., but it already has two iconic visuals to its credit: The Fred-and-Ginger-inspired music video with Channing Tatum, and P!nk's in-air performance of the song on the side of a f#$%ing building on live TV. Stunts aside, the Jack Antonoff-produced single is also a perfect encapsulation of Alecia Moore's enduring appeal -- not only is she happy to kick open her front door and give you a look at her messy life, but she makes a strained relationship ("my perfect rock bottom") sound like the sweetest thing on the planet since Harry met Sally. And in a world where most of us are closer to the gutter than the stars, it's reassuring to know we're not flailing around alone. -- J. Lynch
46. Logic feat. Alessia Cara & Khalid, "1-800-273-8255" 45. GoldLink feat. Brent Faiyaz & Shy Glizzy, "Crew"
The 2018 Grammys' most unexpected hip-hop nomination truly came out of left field; DMV MC GoldLink is usually associated with his future bounce/go-go sound, while Shy Glizzy made his name for street anthems that owe more to Jeezy than JAY-Z. But buoyed by Teddy Walton's slow-groove production and a crooning hook from R&B up-and-comer Brent Faiyaz, both deliver verses that fit in seamlessly without betraying their respective lineages, with GoldLink popping a staccato flow and Glizzy riding the beat effortlessly. At just 2:55, the only valid criticism is that the song feels too short. -- D.R.
44. Shawn Mendes, "There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back"
Shawn Mendes has been 5-for-5 with singles since breakout hit "Stitches," but on the invigorating "There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back," he once and for all puts to rest the idea that he's a Bieber-in-waiting. Truthfully, 19-year-old Mendes has a lot more in common with a young John Mayer, melding heart-on-sleeve emotions with furious acoustic strumming and a bluesy growl. Mendes might be the guitar's best hope for a continued presence in top 40 radio - and if you're really listening to his songcraft, you shouldn't be mad about that. - J. Lynch
43. Sam Hunt, "Body Like a Back Road"
With the way Hunt's 2014 debut Montevallo was still cranking out hits through most of 2016, it hardly seemed like the country star was coming up on three years since new material. But if you want to call it a comeback, it was certainly an epic one; the snap-along bounce of "Body Like a Back Road" broke the Hot Country Songs streak for longest run at No. 1 (34 weeks) and became the summertime anthem for fans of country, pop and beyond. "Road" keeps going, too: 41 weeks after it first hit No. 1, the song still sits in the Country Songs top 5, and has Hunt up for a pair of awards at the 2018 Grammys - further validating his strategy of taking it slow just as fast as he can. -- T.W.
42. Sigrid, "Don't Kill My Vibe"
Norwegian singer Sigrid popped up seemingly out of nowhere in 2017 with her debut EP Don't Kill My Vibe, a smart collection of explosive pop songs with a strong personality to match. The title track roars to attention ferociously and somewhat surprisingly, the supple verses giving way to Sigrid's serrated howl, over feeling like she's being made lesser. But her vulnerable restraint is no match for her fury. -- S.J.H.
41. Ed Sheeran, "Shape of You"
At the outset of 2017, top 40 had recently seen "What Do You Mean?," "One Dance," and no shortage of Major Lazer productions come and go, and you couldn't help but wonder if that was it for this whole trop house thing. Then came this little nugget - the opening salvo of a new Ed Sheeran LP - which remained in the top 10 for 33 consecutive weeks, the longest run Hot 100 history. Cry for mercy all you like, but "Shape of You" is a total slapper: Alongside Ed's familiar acoustic groove, the marimba tones drive this one to unshakeable bliss, popping on and off like a game of red light/green light, as our balladeer goes from bar to date to bedroom. Or: You can just imagine Rihanna singing instead. -- C.P.
40. N.E.R.D. feat. Rihanna, "Lemon"
After a seven-year musical drought, Pharrell Williams' funky side project N.E.R.D. made their 2017 return with this bop -- and it does not disappoint. The fizzy, chaotic dance-floor time bomb sees Pharrell mixing verses about fancy cars and paparazzi with thoughts on border patrol and guns over bouncy, head-rattling production. Guest Rihanna busts in to purr about her cash flow and new La Ferraawrrr with enough swagger to give you weak knees, and don't forget the year's best fake ending and most on-the-nose 2017 intro: "The truth will set you free / but first, it'll piss you off." -- T.C.
39. Kygo feat. Selena Gomez, "It Ain't Me"
No other song by Kygo has resonated with pop audiences more than "It Ain't Me," a stellar mid-tempo trop-house banger featuring Selena Gomez, which earned the DJ his first top 10 hit on the Billboard Hot 100. Gomez sings about love gone wrong, asking, "Who's waking up to drive you home, when you're drunk and all alone?" with the retort, "It ain't me." The mature-sounding kiss-off was new territory for Gomez, and helped kick off a huge year for both artists. -- X.Z.
38. Perfume Genius, "Slip Away"
"Don't hold back, I want to break free/God is singing through your body/ And I'm carried by the sound," Mike Hadreas sings in a bright, quavering croon at the beginning of "Slip Away" - and then, wow, does the song break free. An insistent, tribal drum beat explodes in a giddy wall of sound that, like the sumptuously hued music video, feels like a rom-com romp -- or is it a white-knuckle chase scene? Although the track would be an exhilarating addition to any playlist celebrating the strides that the LGBTQ community has made in recent years regarding same-sex rights and respect, Hadreas that it's still much too early for a victory lap. "There are still a lot of really horrible things going on right now," Hadreas observed. "So there's a joy to this song, but it's a protest, too." -- F.D.
37. DJ Khaled feat. Rihanna & Bryson Tiller, "Wild Thoughts"
Mr. Keys to Success unlocked a 2017 song of the summer (No. 4 on Billboard's annual chart) with this revitalizing take on a 1999 classic -- that classic, of course, being "Maria Maria" by Santana featuring Product G&B. Santana's searing guitar riffs on the sensual groove provide the foundation for Khaled's fiery 2.0 version. Also upping the song's sultry quotient: Rihanna and Bryson Tiller, the former's voice tag-teaming with the latter's street-edged vocals to perfectly capture the "Wild Thoughts" that can erupt between lovers. -- G.M.
36. iLoveMakonnen feat. Rae Sremmurd, "Love"
Like its titular emotion, "Love" is a many-splendored thing: Ask a music fan to describe the song and they might come up with everything from rap to surf rock to punk to girl-group pop, all of which would be correct. You could feign surprise at the song working so well despite being such an unusual hybrid, but that would be an insult to the versatile talents of all involved, including co-producers Mike WiLL Made-It and Travis Barker. But the song's true genius is lyrical, where a whiny refrain ultimately gives way to acknowledgment that the narrators' heartbreak is of their own doing: "Shoulda left that girl alone," admits Slim Jxmmi, as Makonnen's own "I'm smoked out/ You turned me into a stoner" accusation gives way to "I smoke now/ I'm such a stoner!," suggesting love might not have that much to do with it after all. -- A.U.
35. Charli XCX, "Boys"
Only part of what makes Charli XCX such an enigmatic pop figure is the fact that she writes her own songs, usually confrontational, confident missives about love, life and having a damn good time. Which is why it came as a surprise to see her relinquish the reins to a team of songwriting artisans -- four guys, two girls -- for "Boys." But the one-off single fit Charli beautifully -- unapologetically lustful, with an air of girlish innocence, and so evocative that you can almost picture her gazing at the posters on her bedroom wall instead of answering her texts. -- S.J.H.
34. Bruno Mars, "That's What I Like" 33. MUNA, "I Know a Place"
Synth-pop trio MUNA mix pop with politics in this glittery, uplifting anthem dedicated to the LGBTQ community, immigrants, people of color and anyone else who might be in search of a safe space in 2017. Over a glimmering, '80s-inspired soundscape, lead singer Katie Gavin imparts motivating -- but never cheesy -- pearls like "a bruise is only your body trying to keep you intact" before a rush of a chorus that will move listeners of all backgrounds to dance, and perhaps, ugly cry. Hey, we won't judge. -- T.C.
32. Sampha, "(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano"
One of the highlights of 2017 was seeing R&B singer/songwriter Sampha's musical career take off. We'd gotten tastes of his musical prowess as a featured player on tracks with Drake ("4422") and Solange ("Don't Touch My Hair"), but even those didn't prepare us for the 29-year-old's debut set Process -- and standout track "(No One Knows Me) Like The Piano," a heartbreaking tribute to Sampha's late mother and the instrument that helped him find solace. It's gut-wrenching and beautiful, cementing the singer-songwriter as an artist we're sure to see a lot more of in the coming years. -- X.Z.
31. Kendrick Lamar, "DNA."
Don't let the effortlessly singsong cadence fool you: "DNA" is the hardest rap song of 2017 and arguably the most immediate track in Kendrick Lamar's discography. The blistering DAMN. banger finds him unleashing a torrent of murderous bars over Mike WiLL Made-It's booming trap beat, making sure to give Fox News commentator Geraldo Rivera a long-overdue skewering for his asinine comments about Lamar's 2015 BET Awards Performance. A mid-song countdown ominously expires as the beat collapses on itself, and Kung Fu Kenny launches into an explosive, originally a cappella second verse, singlehandedly rewriting the hip-hop hierarchy and inserting himself into the "greatest of all time" conversation. It was in his DNA all along. -- BRYAN ROLLI
30. St. Vincent, "Los Ageless"
"I try to write you a love song / But it comes out a lament," the artist born Annie Clark murmurs, as the grinding guitars and brilliant chorus drain out. "Los Ageless" is a mechanically danceable song, ostensibly revealing complex love bridled to hard plastic and chrome in speedy modern life. But there's a dark, gut-twisting sense that the true target of the "lament" is superficial beauty on the lam, not a person or an emotion. -- R.G.
29. Paramore, "Hard Times"
"You can run on the fumes of being a teenager for as long as you want, but eventually life hits you really hard," Hayley Williams told The New York Times back in April. "Hard Times," the vividly colorful lead single from fifth album After Laughter, is proof. Inter-band tensions (the band had parted with longtime bassist Jeremy Davis and welcomed back founding drummer Zac Farro) and the cynicism that accompanies coming of age ("Hard times, gonna make you wonder why you even try") get tied together neatly in Williams' "too-rock-for-pop" vocals, before being drenched in glittery '80s new wave. The darkest-before-dawn track feels like the anthem for former emo souls that just don't want to feel bad anymore, and suddenly, hitting rock bottom never sounded so promising. -- ALLISON STUBBLEBINE
28. SZA feat. Travis Scott, "Love Galore"
After a couple years of waiting, SZA, the first lady of TDE, finally dropped her debut album of confessional R&B, Ctrl, which quickly proved itself worthy of all of the high anticipation. "Love Galore," the album's lush, mellow second single, opens with a yearning voice saying, "I need, I need" -- but it's Travis Scott, not SZA, who is making that desperate cry. That's one of the biggest takeaways of SZA's music: She is not the one you'll find begging. SZA declares that she's done with the bad men in her life, proving the song is as much about self-love as it is about loving someone else. "I do it for fun / Don't take it personal," she sings, with the nonchalance of some modern-day Monica. -- C.W.
27. Niall Horan, "Slow Hands"
While "This Town" was undoubtedly a crowd pleaser for Horan's eager One Direction fans, it was arguably a safe play for the blond-haired, blue-eyed good boy of 1D. So when he launched into summer 2017 with a follow-up that began with a smoky "We should take this back to my place" come-on, Horan made the clear statement that his squeaky-clean days were behind him. Bringing out his sexy side with daring lyrics, sultry vocals and a thumping, bluesy guitar hook was definitely worth the risk, as it landed Horan his first No. 1 Pop Songs hit as a solo artist, and set the scene for his debut LP Flicker to arrive atop the Billboard 200 in October. -- T.W.
26. Frank Ocean, "Chanel" 25. Carly Rae Jepsen, "Cut to the Feeling"
To her rabid fanbase, Carly Rae Jepsen is the Queen Who Keeps on Giving. In 2015, she bestowed upon us the immaculate pop masterwork Emotion; then last year, extras collection Emotion Side B, better than most pop artists' A-sides. Then, in late May, the glittering pop gem "Cut to the Feeling." Only true Jepfriends would remember where the song even came from (it was on the soundtrack for Leap!, a Canadian-French cartoon film that earned 37% on Rotten Tomatoes). But did it matter? This was a belt-it-from-your-car distillation of all things wonderfully Carly Rae: yearning for something grandly romantic ("I wanna dance on the roof, you and me alone") with a breathless, stratospheric chorus, not unlike "Run Away With Me." No shade to "Despacito," but for a select segment of the pop-loving masses, it was the song of the summer. -- R.M.
24. JAY-Z, "The Story of O.J."
If you've ever made a defiant statement to one of your elders, you've heard that incredulous "...OK" in the opening couplet here, a single word whose doubting tone conveys a dramatic eyebrow raise. Granted, JAY-Z is younger than O.J. Simpson, but in 4:44's "The Story of O.J.," the veteran rapper assumes the role of the old wise man, doling out advice on everything from respecting your culture to investing in art (if you've got a million to spare). Like the rest of 4:44, JAY raps in a measured cadence in front of a backdrop of samples stitched together by producer No I.D. That Nina Simone's stereotype-dismantling "Four Women" dominates the song is fitting, as JAY uses his own track to draw a roadmap for how other people of color on the rise could also come to defy unjust expectation. -- C.W.
23. Taylor Swift, "Gorgeous"
"You've ruined my life/ By not being mine," Taylor Swift drawls on easily her funniest song to date, managing to send up both the country bros who've gotten away with delivering such odious it's-not-me-it's-you come-ons for far too long, as well as her own perceived M.O. as a narcissistic maneater. That's not real, but the hooks here certainly are -- DayGlo synth-and-bass firecrackers that could've fit on the Paramore album with minor fine-tuning -- as are the jokes, which Swift leans so far into she very nearly falls over herself: "I guess I'll on home to my cats/ Alone... / ...Unless you wanna come along!" But then, that alarm clock of a triangle ding, snapping Taylor out of her goofy hello stranger haze, and reminding her to get back to the goddamn chorus already. -- A.U.
22. Dua Lipa, "New Rules"
Unlike some pop artists who seem to have the voice but not the presence or star power for the A-list, it always seemed like a question of when, not if, British singer-songwriter Dua Lipa would become a top 40 force. "New Rules" was the infectious viral hit to do it. Come for Lipa's serpentine vocal on the chorus, stay for her cautionary tale of casual post-breakup flings with one's ex, a theme expanded upon in one of the year's most memeable music videos. Had Rihanna recorded this, it'd already be No. 1 in the U.S... but check back on this one in 2018. -- K.R.
21. Drake, "Passionfruit"
Leave it to Drake to pull up to the roller rink in a yacht. Young Aubrey has so much fun with the handclaps, faux-flute and tangential title of "Passionfruit" that he almost forgets both a) that the lyric is yet another melancholy chapter in what appears to be the most dragged-out long-distance breakup saga in pop music history and b) which era of carefree pop cheesiness he's attempting to tip his captain's hat to. For the latter, he basically ends up choosing "all of the above," which is probably the right call, given that the song ends up sounding like a Jodeci cover of Michael McDonald, remixed by Thomas Bangalter. No surprise that Moodymann is far from the only one who has to start the motherfuckin' record over again. -- A.U.
20. Francis & the Lights feat. Chance the Rapper, "May I Have This Dance" (Remix) 19. Camila Cabello feat. Young Thug, "Havana"
The heated and mid-tempo "Havana" didn't arrive like a breakthrough hit, but it ended up changing the entire course of Camila Cabello's solo career. While her first debut solo song, the radio-ready, Christina Aguilera-interpolating "Crying In The Club," barely cracked the top 50 of the Hot 100, the slower-burning "Havana" shot all the way to No. 2 - Cabello's highest peak to date. The success seemed to turn the ignition on her solo career in earnest, as the former Fifth Harmony singer wiped her hands clean of her pre-"Havana" releases and even finally announced a January release date for her long-awaited debut LP (now simply called Camila). On "Havana," an ode to her Cuban roots, Cabello gleefully sheds the weight that came with trying to prove herself outside of her former girl group and clears a path to finally be herself. -- L.H.
18. Kesha, "Praying"
Here's the most impressive thing about "Praying": if you were living under a proverbial rock and were completely unaware of the song's context within Kesha's career, you'd still have to admit that it's a stunner. A gasp of air after literal years of battling her former producer Dr. Luke in court and attempting to release new music, the comeback power ballad is not subtle about the hell Kesha has gone through, but it doesn't need to be - she has come out clean on the other side, and does not have time for any woe-is-me sentiments. "When I'm finished, they won't even know your name," she asserts, emitting a cathartic cry that will persist far longer than her not-so-secret enemy. During a year in which society has finally re-examined the way men abuse power, "Praying" broadcast the unbreakable spirit of an indispensable female artist, captured in four minutes flat. -- J. Lipshutz
17. Zedd & Alessia Cara, "Stay"
Alessia Cara solidified her standing in the pop world with her stellar run in 2017, finally earning the best new artist Grammy nomination many thought she deserved the year before. Not only did she sprinkle her dulcet vocals on Logic's "1-800-273-8255" smash, she offered a stunning turn on star producer Zedd's "Stay." The formidable tandem gave "A thousands reasons why" their radio-dominating dance-pop blast would keep listeners entranced. Cara and Zedd also captivated viewers with a stripped-down version of the song during the 2017 AMAs, proving the song's power underneath its electronic dressing, and punctuating their torrid run. -- C.L.
16. Future, "Mask Off"
Future was hardly the first hip-hop artist to back his rhymes with a flute sample, but in 2017 he made it meme-worthy as the unlikely musical signature of his highest-charting single. Mated with a trap snare roll and bottomless bass beat in Metro Boomin's thick-as-sizzurp production, the result sounds like the score to a vintage samurai movie -- starring Future as the Auto-Tuned Zen warrior, sharing the kabuki-free philosophy that took him to the top of the food chain: "We call the play, we didn't come to play/Rob the bank, we gon' rob the game." There's no shochu in this tale, however: In addition to the hypnotic refrain of "Percocets, molly, Percocets," Future boasts an impressive pharmaceutical vocabulary -- and, perhaps regimen -- name-checking promethazine, a key ingredient in the cough-syrup-and-Sprite concoction known as lean, and Theo-Dur, a drug prescribed for asthma. -- F.D.
15. Migos feat. Lil Uzi Vert, "Bad and Boujee"
The trap song that launched a thousand memes ("raindrop, drop top") also gave Migos and Lil Uzi Vert their first Billboard Hot 100 No. 1 hit, nearly three months after its release. There's a reason for the slow rise: Bereft of an obvious hook, it takes a few listens for the circular cadence of "Bad and Boujee" to burrow into your brain, but once it's there, it's game over, man. Metro Boomin keeps the moody production minimal, which is wise, because the Migos chuck syllable-stuffed lines and cheeky ad-libs at the listener like Jackson Pollock whipping paint at a canvas. Despite the title, the only bad thing about this song is that one of the Three Migos (Takeoff) isn't on it -- but with Uzi stopping by to snooze in a Jacuzzi and shout-out blue cheese, "Bad and Boujee" remains unassailable. -- J. Lynch
14. Childish Gamino, "Redbone"
If 2016 was the year of Donald Glover's precipitous rise, 2017 was the modern-day Renaissance man's coronation. "Redbone" arrived as the second single for Glover's Awaken, My Love! album -- third under his Childish Gambino moniker -- and it teased a seismic shift in the former backpack rapper's career, with classic soul production and a vocal delivery octaves above his typical register. Aided early on by a crucial sync in the satirical blockbuster thriller Get Out, the song -- originally released in late 2016 -- maintained its buzz throughout the next summer, ultimately peaking at No. 12 on the Hot 100 in August and reaching 3x Platinum certification the following month. Now a Grammy nominee for record of the year, "Redbone" is the rare ballad conscious enough for its two-word refrain to become an iconic rallying cry, but sexy enough to be most convincing delivered shirtless in shimmering pants. - B.K.
13. Lorde, "Green Light" 12. Khalid, "Location"
Khalid is undoubtedly one of the biggest breakout stars of 2017, and it all started with "Location." The lead single debuted in late 2016 and carried the hype into the new year, when it was certified Platinum and reached a No. 16 peak on the Hot 100. In the song, Khalid takes a look at the early stages of a relationship, presenting a cautious ode to young love in a world of social media and technology. The 19-year-old Texas native shows his vulnerability brought on by the relationship as he asks the question, "Sometimes I wonder why I fool with you." From the unique reoccurring ringtone sound that introduces the song to the clean jazz guitar (or is it a synth?) on the bridge, the production of "Location" stands out even amidst the rest of the excellent American Teen. We're excited to see what the Grammy-nominated artist has in store for us in the future, but for now we're going to just vibe out with him. -- J. Kelley
11. Julia Michaels, "Issues"
After four years of quietly co-penning hits for the likes of Justin Bieber, Britney Spears and Selena Gomez, Julia Michaels stepped into the spotlight with this instantly relatable ballad about loving someone, flaws-and-all. "Issues" pairs Michaels' feathery vocals with an understated strings arrangement, highlighting the track's vulnerable lyricism -- and earning an overdue Grammy nod for song of the year for the talented wordsmith. "Issues" also climbed to an impressive No. 11 on the Hot 100, outperforming every song she wrote for more established stars -- Bieber and Gomez included -- in 2017. -- P.C.
10. Portugal. The Man, "Feel It Still" 9. The Weeknd feat. Daft Punk, "I Feel It Coming"
After conquering the Hot 100 with their first-ever collaboration "Starboy," The Weeknd & Daft Punk kept their hot streak going when they teamed up for the top 10 smash "I Feel It Coming." The buoyant single allowed The Weeknd to channel his inner MJ with his whispery coos, drifting away from his usual melancholy sound for something more invigorating. The '80s-inspired record offered hope to lovers who craved more out of a relationship: "Just a simple touch and it can set you free/ We don't have to rush when you're alone with me." With Daft Punk providing a yearning but distinctly danceable beat, Abel crooned his way to every new romantic's heart in 2017. -- C.L.
8. Harry Styles, "Sign of the Times"
Harry Styles marked his solo debut in the most ambitious way possible, with a near-six-minute power ballad that calls upon the likes of David Bowie and Queen for a type of rock grandeur rarely heard in 2017. The soaring vocals and symphonic production make clear Styles has left his boy band days of pure pop in the past - he's traded up (and has the designer suits to show for it). Though he revealed the song was inspired by a mother dying from childbirth, "Sign of the Times" couldn't have come at a more opportune time: It transcends any one situation or viewpoint with its use of an ambiguous "we," and refrains from being too much of a downer with its gentle nudge to "remember everything will be alright." And when Styles sings the deeply affecting refrain, "Just stop your crying/It's a sign of the times," he only makes you want to bawl harder - even if you don't quite know over what. -- L.H.
7. J Balvin & Willy William feat. Beyonce, "Mi Gente" (Remix)
Few sounds were as gratifying as pop radio in 2017 as the moaning, disembodied vocal loop and vinyl crackle that introduce "Mi Gente." Borrowed from Willy William's original "Voodoo Song," J Balvin took that song's absolutely unstoppable reggaeton bounce and turned it into a global anthem, with a chorus that sounds like a club rallying cry, even if you don't understand what Balvin's "¿Y dónde está mi gente?" is literally asking. ("Where are my people?," natch.)

The song topped Spotify's international charts for weeks well before Beyoncé jumped on the remix, but the Queen slotted in perfectly to the song's already-regal procession, adding timeliness in her galvanizing of relief efforts for her hurricane-struck H(ome)-town. The duo even left the perfect amount of room for their special guest in the second-verse roll call -- " J. Balvin. Willy William. Beyoncé." -- before yelling "FREEZE!" on one of 2017's most iconic moment-in-time musical snapshots. That this wasn't even the genre's biggest (or arguably best) crossover should tell you everything you need to know about the impact Latin music had on American pop this year. -- A.U.
6. Kendrick Lamar, "HUMBLE." 5. Lil Uzi Vert, "XO TOUR Llif3"
The spellcheck-baiting SoundCloud single that could, "XO TOUR Llif3" peaked in June, leading to some talk that perhaps it was our song of the summer. But as 2017 comes to a shameful, fiery close, it's easier to see that Lil Uzi Vert's desperate emo plea, recorded while he was on tour with The Weeknd, was a song for all seasons. TM88's busy, mournful-but-not-funereal beat provided the backdrop for Uzi's concise summary of the claustrophobic trash feeling that overtook everyone the past 12 months: "Push me to the edge/ All my friends are dead." It's odd to hear everyone in the club shouting along to Uzi's alternately slurred and wailed cries about depression, Xanax abuse, suicidal thoughts, and dead friends. And yet here we are. -- R.S.
4. Luis Fonsi & Daddy Yankee feat. Justin Bieber, "Despacito" (Remix)
A solo opening guitar line with Caribbean flair. An "Ay" that could only signal the song's "Latin-ness." And then, Justin Bieber singing, in English, the No. 1 Latin song on the planet. "Despacito" was already a major hit when Bieber heard it in a Bogotá nightclub and asked to appear on a new version, recording it within 24 hours and releasing it within 48. His collaboration, first in English, then overwhelmingly in Spanish later in the song, propelled "Despacito" to become one of the biggest singles of all time, notching 16 weeks at No. 1 on Billboard's Hot 100 and tying the record set by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men's "One Sweet Day" decades earlier. Bieber certainly helped, but it wasn't just him: "Despacito" struck the right tone of sultry sexiness with Fonsi's R&B-tinged Spanish vocals and Daddy Yankee's reggaeton edge. And the lyrics, sensual but not raunchy, appealed to both male and female listeners. Not to mention the " Des...pa...ci...to" hook itself, a refrain so easy, so memorable, everyone from your three year old to your grandmother ended up singing it all year. -- L.C.
3. Calvin Harris feat. Frank Ocean & Migos, "Slide"
The key to the greatest producer-rapper(s)-singer super-teaming since "Yeah!" is in its subtly palindromic structure: The signature " Empty my bank account..." squawking kicks off the song, before giving way to Frank Ocean's cool-breeze chorus -- then neither are heard in full again until three verses later, when Frank's hook makes its satisfying return, and the song ends on a final " I might!" It gives the song a sunrise-to-sunset feel: Harris' opening keys are as life-giving as rays peeking through the blinds on a gorgeous Saturday morning, Quavo and Offset's verses are the sound of the ideal piped-up weekend bash, and Ocean's disembodied closing wails serve as the perfect adult bedtime lullaby. It's telling that the song was used for the season two trailer of , as star Issa Rae contemplates life situations while forgetting that she's in the midst of L.A. traffic. No better West Coast day-in-the-life soundtrack has ever been produced by a New Orleans transplant, three ATLiens and a Scotsman. -- A.U.
2. Cardi B, "Bodak Yellow"
The last few years have seen an increasing number of A-list stars struggle to land lasting hits, while newer artists emerge from the streaming shadows to claim the top spot on the Billboard Hot 100. Cardi B's "Bodak Yellow (Money Moves)" was the prime 2017 example, proving that sometimes a fresh sound and a no-fux attitude can get you further than a massive indu$try push. Of course, "Bodak Yellow" isn't without precedent - "Bad and Boujee" and "Black Beatles" demonstrated the viral, chart-topping power of trap, and the song itself takes inspiration from the up-down, sing-song cadence of Kodak Black's "No Flockin'" (and even Freak Nasty's unsinkable "Da' Dip"). But make no mistake: "Bodak Yellow" is pulling in green because of the 25-year-old Bronx spitter. Her time on a reality show served her well, because Cardi's indelible personality makes you root for her even as she's shoving her cockiness in your face and making it clear she couldn't give a shit if you like her or not. "Bodak Yellow" is the brash, year-defining smash that we can't stop spinning, even if we waaaaaaanted to. - J. Lynch
1. Selena Gomez, "Bad Liar"
Imagine reading this headline five years ago: "Selena Gomez Samples Talking Heads' 'Psycho Killer' on Best Song of the Year." The unlikeliness of "Bad Liar" is a testament to the way in which the always-evolving Gomez has matured her approach to pop since the days in which her albums were credited to herself "& the Scene." Her 2015 album Revival showed continued refinement of her vocal technique, but "Bad Liar" gets all the way there: Gomez flutters through syllables and doubles back on her own assertions to demonstrate the vulnerability she feels around her crush. She also doesn't overplay her hand when she needs to yearn: "Ooooh, you're taking up a fraction of my mind," she admits, careful not to wail but gritting her teeth as she unveils a deep secret. It's a commanding performance, full of the type of nuance that most singers would steamroll over while trying to sing their lungs out; credit Gomez as well as songwriters Julia Michaels and Justin Tranter, who know exactly the kind of phrasings that help their collaborator excel.

But then there's that sample, a bass creep that became iconic in Talking Heads' catalog and helped underscore the idiosyncratic dread of their first hit single 40 years ago. On both "Psycho Killer" and "Bad Liar," it provides an foundation of anxiety - but whereas David Byrne makes that nervousness oversized and cartoonish on "Killer," Gomez turns the tension inward on lines like "Your touch like a happy pill/ But still all we do is fear." She can't help trying to work toward a happy ending, even when one isn't possible. Byrne has publicly co-signed "Bad Liar," which, among other things, honors the quirk that Talking Heads baked into their music - that pop can be bizarre and irresistible at the same time, whether played at CBGB's in '77 or on top 40 in 2017.

That said, "Bad Liar" was not a huge hit in 2017; it wasn't even Gomez's biggest hit ("It Ain't Me," her single with Kygo, aimed dead-center at modern pop and dominated radio). Yet "Bad Liar" was the most interesting and enjoyable song on top 40 radio this year, a weird little moment of frustrated melody and imperfect romance that may prove to be a high point in Gomez's increasingly fascinating career. On paper, "Bad Liar" doesn't make much sense, but that's why it doesn't exist on paper. -- J. Lipshutz

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Billboard's 100 Best Songs of 2017: Critics' Picks

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If albums had something of a soft landing on the pop landscape in 2017, then songs more than picked up the headline-grabbing slack. It was a year of Cardi B replacing Taylor Swift atop the Billboard Hot 100, of Rihanna and Justin Bieber dominating the calendar without so much as a solo lead single from either, of Camila Cabello and Harry Styles striking out of their own, and of DJ Khaled and Calvin Harris going pop-star crowd-sourcing.

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Social Music App Aurafy Changes Landscape of Music Sharing Industry

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Social Music App Aurafy Changes Landscape of Music Sharing Industry

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Digital Journal: A Global Digital Media Network

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Designed by Allan DelaCruz and Jesse Shortt, Aurafy enables users to share their music library in its entirety whenever they listen to songs. Songs users are listening to on music providers, such as Apple Music, Google Play and Spotify will be posted to a feed on Aurafy.

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Social Media And The Music Industry: How Is Online Sharing Changing The Game?

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Social Media And The Music Industry: How Is Online Sharing Changing The Game?

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It's no secret that digitization is proliferating into almost every corner of our lives. We can order our groceries delivered, communicate in an instant with someone halfway around the world, and yes - share a song with our Facebook friends and other social media followers whenever we want, introducing an entire audience to music they might never have experienced.

My brother is notorious for this. He manages the programs committee for our local arts council and as such, is responsible for digging through scores of YouTube artists to find acts that he can book. He's brought singer/songwriters from Portland, California, Oregon and more to our little hometown of Wallburg, North Carolina. How has he done it? He's found them online, then sent them a Facebook message to inquire about their tour schedule. This is a tactic he's employed almost every single time, and to much success.

A proper conversation about social media and the music industry would be tome-length and likely too detailed for a blog post, but I'd like to talk for a second about how these platforms are changing the game - both for the artists themselves and the listeners who find them.

According to the International Federation of the Phonographic Industry (IFPI), which follows and reports on worldwide trends surrounding the recording industry, streaming revenue jumped 60.4% last year. In the United States alone, it was up 16.5%, an interesting figure considering that physical sales were down 17.1%.

What does this tell us, besides the fact that more people are hopping online to buy their music? It signifies a gradual, though significant shift, in consumer culture. Put simply, people aren't going to big box stores, flipping through the alphabetical selection, and buying physical CDs with the same fervor they were a decade ago. Of course, this has ironically given rise to the rebirth of vinyl, with everyone from Kacey Musgraves to Fall Out Boy producing their new LPs in the throwback format. It's now a more than $220 million industry, and doesn't look to be slowing down any time soon.

But, back to social media. With so many people hopping online to buy albums straight from their favorite artists' website, through iTunes, or via myriad other digital means, the music is imported directly onto their smart device. That means that gone are the days when you'd have to go to the store and buy a CD, come home, pop that bad boy into your CPU and download it to your hard drive.

The result? We literally carry our music in our pockets now, and that makes it infinitely easier to share it with someone we think would like it. Just last night, I sent Macklemore's new song "Good Old Days" to my best friend a few cities away who was having a hard time with being in the stage of motherhood that she's in. "Listen to this," I told her as I sent the link via Facebook. "These will be your good old days soon."

I don't know exactly what the future of the industry looks like, though if the popularity of social media is any indicator, it's a healthy one. Expert predictions reveal that by 2020, there will be almost half a billion more users on the various networking channels than there are today. For artists who want to gain exposure, build a following, and have their message heard, this comes as encouraging news. Even the most underground cover band isn't limited to a following of one person who happens to come across their music at a garage sale. Instead, that one person can take those songs and give their friends and followers a listen, and the cycle continues.

At its core, music is meant to unite. It's made to strike that chord (pun intended) in us that someone else knows what we're going through and can express those feelings artistically. Isn't that the intent of social media as well - to connect and find a community? If it is, then the two go hand-in-hand, and here's to hoping someone sends me my new favorite song today.
Social Media And The Music Industry: How Is Online Sharing Changing The Game?

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Social Media And The Music Industry: How Is Online Sharing Changing The Game? - MTT - Music Think Tank

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It's no secret that digitization is proliferating into almost every corner of our lives. We can order our groceries delivered, communicate in an instant with someone halfway around the world, and yes - share a song with our Facebook friends and other social media followers whenever we want, introducing an entire audience to music they might never have experienced.

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Liveplasma lets you discover new artists based on what you allready like. A visual discovery engine

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Earlier this year, as the White House bungled the implementation of its "Muslim ban," sparking airport protests and civil rights lawsuits, Downtown Boys were holed up in Steve Albini's Chicago studio cutting their Sub Pop debut, Cost of Living. Vocalist Victoria Ruiz and guitarist Joey DeFrancesco earned their activist stripes organizing for labor and civil rights in their home base of Providence, Rhode Island; they're not used to watching from the sidelines. But the record they cut will endure long after the current administration has left office, and "A Wall," its opening salvo, perfectly captures their righteous rage. In between the driving bassline and soaring sax melody, Ruiz and DeFrancesco shout down jingoistic imperialism. It's an extension of the band's live shows, which are equal parts dance party and discourse. Ruiz confronts and challenges her audience, encouraging us to decolonize our minds while examining our own complicity in oppressive structures rooted in white supremacy. On a record full of defiant statements, "A Wall" is among the most forceful. -Matthew Ismael Ruiz

Listen: Downtown Boys, "A Wall"

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Earlier this year, as the White House bungled the implementation of its "Muslim ban," sparking airport protests and civil rights lawsuits, Downtown Boys were holed up in Steve Albini's Chicago studio cutting their Sub Pop debut, Cost of Living.