Cases against music curation


Candied Afropop The rhythm of “Nature” Work like an aphrodisiac. They are very sweet and indulgent, making this song ubiquitous in the season of impulsive change, fascinating. Above, Nigerian singers Wizkid and Tems elaborated on the physical and emotional outlines of courtship, talking sweetly about desire, sense of belonging and passionate intimacy.

Songs like “Essence” remind us of the power of the summer national anthem: its reward is not necessarily a position on the charts, but a promise of nostalgia that is coming. It wants to be the soundtrack of our memories and the eternal witness of the days we don’t want to forget.

This summer, I ventured back to the outside with cautious optimism-wherever I went, the “essence” followed me. I heard its roar from the car stereo in Harlem. I heard it at a party. In the afternoon in Greenburg Park, I heard the melodious dripping sound from the wireless speaker. I heard it in bars and clubs. I heard it from the high roof. I heard it in Washington, Chicago, and Mexico.

According to the logic of this season, “Essence” is a perfect summer song, symbolizing an era that traditionally favored singles structured with popular supremacy. Meaning, this song was designed through streaming media, radio, and pop music machines, and it made me everywhere.

However, over time, the experience of hearing “Essence” and wherever I went were welcomed by it, and it began to become mechanized. This is largely due to the way music is spread and how it is spread.We now dive into Ten years of lifestyle planning. Our news feed on Facebook, the movies we cataloged on Netflix, and our playlists on Apple Music looping over and over again; all of this is to eliminate friction in our lives. Singles like “Essence” benefit from the tireless indexing through algorithms, especially through personal curation, which gives control to consumers. But what if this approach no longer serves us?

Intense loneliness can disturb the brain. The isolation of living alone during the pandemic, among other things, changed the way I listen to music. I thought what I wanted was more control-to manage all aspects of my life and listening experience, to control my surroundings, especially when the roar of the outside world became louder and more unstable. This urge to customize is very tempting. It gives us what we finally desire: an appearance of power. But this is not what I need. What I need is to let go more.

Music streaming is We are told to focus on discovery. But the experience of finding and listening to music is not always a worthwhile adventure. In the early days, playlists encouraged those instincts to explore music-professionally curated playlists such as Spotify’s Rap Caviar provided credibility to emerging artists such as Lil Uzi Vert and Playboi Carti, thereby exponentially expanding their reach. The playlist feels great and novel. However, as their numbers grew in size, genre, and influence, and as this shift gave way to the era of ultra-niche listening, their effectiveness diminished.

The rise and popularity of social media platforms such as TikTok have also contributed to our accelerated listening habits, in which the dance challenge has become a viral field (for creators and artists). For all the superb skills on the platform, popular singles-Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage”, Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights”-have become synonymous with TikTok’s popular appeal, which in turn affects how artists create their next hits .

This makes sense. We like our pop culture to be quick and easy. This is why for some people, singles are more important than albums.This is why artists like Drake calibrate their music-2018 scorpion, For example-their way: to as many viewers as possible. This is why the best albums of the past ten years sound like they were made for social media. They are jagged collections of singles, not a cohesive sum. The album is a means to an end, a means of transportation, but by no means a destination.


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