AI's slow creep towards what's marketed as AGI (or more notoriously for those in the know—ASI) unravels a reality where we're beginning to see what its effect on our world truly could be. Jobs begin to disappear as companies refactor their corporate architecture, and those who were once hindered by skill level or time maximize their output to levels never seen before. We're seeing a drastic shift in the landscape of technology and what is possible within it.
Despite what could be seen as AI enabling accessibility to many practices, this advent inherently leaves many people—from programmers to artists—in a position where they could see their jobs put in danger.
Since the advent of image generation, conceptual artists have seen a sharp decrease in their work opportunities. Studios that once employed teams of artists for pre-production now generate hundreds of concepts in minutes. The economics are brutal and the quality is "good enough" for many use cases.
But music is different.
Why Music Resists Automation
Music isn't just audio arranged pleasantly—it's a temporal, emotional, and deeply social experience.
You can't automate a live show. The energy exchange between performer and audience, the improvisation, the mistakes that become moments—these are irreplaceable. People don't pay to watch a laptop generate audio. They pay to witness human expression in real-time.
AI can generate music that sounds like a genre, but it can't understand why that music exists. A protest song isn't just minor chords and angry lyrics—it's a response to lived experience. AI has no experience to draw from, no stake in the outcome.
Music is also inherently collaborative. Bands, producers, session musicians—the creative friction between humans generates something none of them could create alone. AI can be a tool in this process, but it can't replace the relationships and trust that drive creative partnerships.
AI as Tool, Not Replacement
Some musicians are integrating AI into their workflow—generating rough ideas to react against, handling tedious tasks like stem separation, exploring sonic territories quickly. For them, AI augments the creative process—sometimes in ways they don't fully understand, obfuscated behind software features—without replacing the human decisions that make music meaningful.
But there's a counterpoint worth considering: the struggle is part of the art. Learning to do things the hard way, wrestling with your limitations, finding joy in the process itself—these aren't obstacles to creativity, they are creativity. Using AI for convenience or accessibility might save time, but it can also strip away the very friction that makes the work meaningful. Not every shortcut is worth taking.
Even if we reach AGI, even if machines can technically compose music indistinguishable from human work—it won't matter. Music has never been purely about the sound. It's about who made it, why they made it, and what it meant to them.
The singularity might resonate, but will it have a soul?