Say Goodbye to Spotify: A DIY Movement for Artists and Fans to Ditch Music Apps

TThis past month, independent musicians in San Francisco convened for a series of discussions titled “Death to Spotify,” where attendees delved into “the implications of decentralizing music discovery, production, and listening from a capitalist framework.”

Hosted at Bathers Library, the event featured speakers from indie radio station KEXP, record labels Cherub Dream Records and Dandy Boy Records, along with DJ collectives No Bias and Amor Digital. What began as a modest gathering quickly sold out, gaining international interest. Organizers were approached by individuals as far away as Barcelona and Bengaluru eager to replicate the event.

“Death to Spotify” event held on September 23rd at Buzzards Library in San Francisco, California. Photo: Dennis Heredia

These discussions occur as the global backlash against Spotify gains traction. In January, music journalist Liz Perry released *Mood Machine*, a critical examination arguing that streaming services have decimated the industry, turning listeners into “passive, unstimulated consumers.” Perry asserts that Spotify’s business model pays artists meagerly, particularly if they consent to be “playlisted” in discovery mode, which delivers a bland, ambient soundtrack that blends into the background.

While artists have long voiced concerns over inadequate compensation, this past summer, criticism turned personal, specifically targeting Spotify’s billionaire co-founder Daniel Ek’s backing of Hellsing, a German company developing military technology AI. Prominent acts like Massive Attack, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, Deerhoof, and Hotline TNT have pulled their songs from the platform in protest, though Spotify stresses that “Spotify and Hellsing are entirely separate entities.”

“Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Cost of the Perfect Playlist” by Liz Perry. Photo: Hodder

In Oakland, Stefani Dukic read *Mood Machine*, learned about the boycott, and felt inspired.

While not a musician, Dukic, who investigates city police complaints, describes her fascination with sound alongside her friend Manasa Karthikeyan, who works in an art gallery. They decided to foster a similar dialogue. “Spotify plays a vital role in our music interaction,” Dukic explains. “We thought it would be enriching to investigate our relationship with streaming, the significance of deleting a file, and the process involved.” Thus, Death to Spotify was conceived.

In essence, the aim was to “end algorithmic listening, cease royalty exploitation, and discontinue AI-generated music.”

Karthikeyan believes the onus of quitting Spotify falls on both listeners and musicians. “One must acknowledge that not everything is instantly available,” she states. “It prompts deeper consideration of what you support.”

Yet, will musicians and fans truly commit to a long-term boycott of the app?

Numerous prominent artists have previously pulled their catalogs from Spotify amid much fanfare, only to quietly return. Taylor Swift, one of the platform’s biggest stars, returned in 2017 after a three-year boycott over unfair payment practices. Thom Yorke, the frontman of Radiohead, removed some solo projects in 2013 for similar reasons, labeling Spotify as “the last desperate fart of a dying corpse,” yet he later reinstated them.

In 2022, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell left the platform due to an exclusive deal with anti-vaccine podcast host Joe Rogan. Having both contracted polio in their childhood during the 1950s, they have also reinstated their catalogs on Spotify.

Eric Drott, a music professor at the University of Texas at Austin, suggests this latest wave of boycotts feels distinct. “These artists are not mainstream. Many have realized for years that streaming isn’t lucrative, but they still sought recognition. With the sheer volume of available music, people are questioning its overall value.”

Will Anderson of Hotline TNT asserted there is “0%” chance his band will return. “There’s no rationale for genuine music enthusiasts to be there,” he claims. “Spotify’s primary objective is to encourage you to stop pondering what’s being played.” When the band sold their new album, “Raspberry Moon,” directly via Bandcamp and a 24-hour Twitch stream, it sold hundreds of copies and generated substantial revenue.

Manasa Karthikeyan (left) and Stephanie Dukic. Photo: Eva Tuff

Pop-rock artist Caroline Rose and others are also experimenting with alternative distribution methods. Her album *Year of the Slug*, influenced by Cindy Lee’s “Diamond Jubilee,” was exclusively released on vinyl and Bandcamp, initially available only on YouTube and the file-sharing platform Mega. “It’s disheartening to pour your heart and soul into something only to give it away online for free,” Rose articulates.

Rose is a member of the Union of Musicians and Allied Workers (UMAW), an advocacy organization established to protect music professionals since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. Joey DeFrancesco, a member of the punk band Downtown Boys and a UMAW co-founder, stated the group “clearly advocates for artists as agents, holding corporations accountable and facilitating necessary dialogue,” including efforts to remove music from Spotify. He also noted the “limitations” inherent in individual boycotts.

“Our goal in the labor movement and within UMAW is to act collectively,” he emphasized. Notable examples include UMAW’s successful campaign—in partnership with the Palestine for Palestine coalition—to persuade the South by Southwest music festival to cut ties with U.S. military and arms manufacturers as sponsors for its 2025 event, as well as the introduction of the Living Wage for Musicians Act (a bill aimed at regulating payments to artists on Spotify) championed by Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib.

The organizers of Death to Spotify assert that their intent isn’t to dismantle the app but rather to prompt users to critically reflect on their music consumption habits. “We want to encourage a more thoughtful engagement with how we listen to music,” Karthikeyan explains. “Sticking to algorithmically generated comfort zones only serves to diminish the richness of our culture.”

Source: www.theguardian.com

British TikToker says goodbye to Central American followers before potential ban: ‘It’s an amazing community’

If TikTok disappears from the United States, its 170 million American users won’t be the only ones who lose out.

British TikTokers and executives told the Guardian that they would lose a significant portion of their audience after the ban. The video app has become a key entry point into the U.S. for British online video creators who make a living by gaining views and securing sponsored content deals. The ban is scheduled to go into effect on Sunday, leaving a U.S.-sized hole in the global user base.


“In English-speaking markets, many creators have significant U.S. audiences following them,” says Billion Dollar Boy, a UK-based advertising agency that connects creators and influencers with blue-chip advertisers. CEO Thomas Walters said: He added that a ban would be “really sad” for creators who have “built an audience from nothing” on TikTok.

The Guardian spoke to several UK-based creators and one entrepreneur, all of whom said they would be affected by the ban.

Jay Beach, 30, London

Almost half of the users are from the United States. Beech’s 1.7 million viewers On TikTok. He said there were strong relationships between creators and users on both sides of the Atlantic, and that millions of Brits and Americans would miss this kind of digital cultural exchange.

“Seeing that gap in our feeds is going to make a big difference for all of us,” he says.

Beach, who describes her posts as “high energy fashion content”, said sponsored content from brands such as US skincare brand Kiehl’s and Sky TV makes up the bulk of her income. He also has a presence on YouTube Shorts and Instagram, but says he’s noticed that TikTok users “don’t necessarily follow you anywhere else.”

“[A ban] “It’s going to throw people into this diaspora of rediscovering their favorite creators and finding a new home on their platform of choice,” he said.

Fats Timbo, 28, Kent




Fats Timbo is a comedian and podcaster. Photo: Fats Timbo

Fats is a comedian and disability activist who posts comedy, beauty, and lifestyle content. 3 million followers on TikTok. She says the platform’s reach in the U.S. (about a quarter of her followers) is essential to her work.

“TikTok is very important to my career because it allows me to connect with an audience in the United States, where there is a lack of representation for people like me – Black women with dwarfism. “That’s often the case,” she says.

Timbo added that the United States offers creators like her the opportunity to “grow, collaborate, and get noticed on a global stage.”

“It’s not just about the numbers. It’s about the impact I can have and the representation I can give to people who rarely see people like them in the media. Losing that connection is something that I You feel like you’re losing some of your purpose,” she says.

Timbo says the US audience is “key to securing deals, collaborations and global visibility with brands.” Losing TikTok in the US would be a “major setback,” but she is also creating content on Instagram to stay connected with her US followers.

M Wallbank, 25, South Yorkshire

Approximately 40% of Em Wallbank’s audience is from the United States. The South Yorkshire-based creator said it was also thanks to her accent that her comedy skits became a hit across the Atlantic. Wallbank is best known for his posts riffing on Harry Potter characters. TikTok has 1.7 million followers.

“I think part of my popularity is because I’m from the north and my accent is a bit unusual.” [to US users]” she says.

Wallbank, who started posting skits on TikTok in 2022, said the U.S. social media market is a test of the ability for creators like the Kardashians and Nicole Richie to build broad careers.

“People who have careers outside of social media are getting more attention from American audiences,” she says.

Wallbank’s popularity in the US has led her to perform at US fan conventions and create sponsored content with multinational companies such as Disney+ in the UK. She’s concerned about aspiring creators who are using TikTok and its U.S. audience to access creative careers that might otherwise be out of reach.

Skip past newsletter promotions

“Being able to use my background to break into a creative industry is huge,” she says.

Sarah Yuma, 30, London

Uma says her American TikTok audience is essential to the growth of her business, which sells home accessories and hair accessories made from African fabrics.

“It can be difficult to build a business solely relying on a UK audience. It was the US audience that propelled my business during lockdown and took it to the next level.” she says.

Yuma has more than that 3,000 followers on TikToksaid it saw an influx of U.S. customers and followers in 2020 as the Black Lives Matter movement grew in popularity.




Sarah Yuma sells handmade products made from African fabrics from her home in London on Thursday. Photo: Martin Godwin/The Guardian

If TikTok were to disappear from the U.S., “we would be losing a huge part of our community,” Yuma said. “They helped me design it. It’s a really beautiful community I’ve created.”

She added that if TikTok were to be suspended in the U.S., it would have to rethink how it connects with U.S. audiences.

“We need to rethink our strategies on how to keep them in the community and keep them in touch,” she says. “I don’t want to isolate them. They’re really important to my business.”

Sam Cornforth, 29, London

corn force post fitness comedy sketches He has 460,000 followers, about a quarter of them in the United States. He said income from sponsored content would be protected by the fact that it was working with UK-based brands like Argos.

But he said brands could react negatively to creators losing a significant portion of their audience.

“Brands are paying attention to your entire reach. If you potentially cut 20% to 30% of that, would that impact future opportunities with those brands?” he asked.

Cornforth added that TikTok’s U.S. audience is important in establishing trends that filter down to other platforms. Without that influence, creators may lose the impetus and inspiration for their work.

“This is where the trends come from, which later narrows down to YouTube Shorts and Instagram,” he says.

Source: www.theguardian.com

The ebb and flow of celebrity video greeting app Cameo: A tale of hello and goodbye | Technology

IAs is often the case, this incident began with drama in a WhatsApp group. In 2021, a loose coalition of my friends and acquaintances, in order to survive repeated lockdowns, started playing a much maligned online game called “Excuse.” Betrayal and backstabbing are all part of the game.


Except this time people went too far, someone got so upset that he left the group, and to get him back, my friends came up with a dubious plan: they got Nigel Farage, of all people, to make a sarcastic apology video, urging his comrades to rejoin the group.

This was easy to do, thanks to Cameo, which Farage had recently signed up for. For around £100, Farage had 24 hours to record a 60-second video clip and distribute it through the app. The ploy worked, and peace was restored within the friend group, thanks to Cameo and Farage’s rather bewildered recitation of a series of inside jokes that he completely failed to understand.

It’s one of the many uses for Cameo, a service that lets anyone request custom videos for friends from celebrities and influencers and have them delivered within 24 hours. The site became an unexpected hit during the COVID-19 lockdown, helping it attract investment that put it at a $1 billion valuation in 2021.


The front page of the Cameo website, featuring some of the celebrities registered with the site. Photo: Cameo

But since then, things have been tough. The video is still being made, and it’s still… Eclectic. A number of celebrities and influencers (more on that later) are on board, but they seem to be struggling to pay the relatively small bills.

last month, Business Insider Reported Cameo reaches settlement with 30 U.S. states. The company was found to have violated the Federal Trade Commission’s rules regarding celebrity endorsements.

Cameo was fined $600,000, a modest sum for a billion-dollar company in theory, but court filings attested that it couldn’t afford that amount and instead settled for $100,000 (split among 30 states). So what went wrong?

Day to day, the site operates much the same as before, offering custom videos to those seeking them from a range of actors, comedians and influencers, including British names like actor Miriam Margolyes (£134 a video), former footballer John Terry (£197), singer Gareth Gates (£47) and presenter and environmental activist Ben Fogle (£71).

In the US, NSync’s Lance Bass (235 pounds) and Dean Norris (235 pounds), who played DEA agent Hank Schrader, Breaking Bad (193 pounds), and former supporters of the U.S. version. Office Kevin Malone, aka Brian Baumgartner (154 pounds), or “Drunk Meredith” Kate Flannery (150 pounds).

While each has its own fanbase, sometimes with cult followings, Cameo has struggled to attract or retain A-list celebrities and influencers with top-tier followings, in part because using the app poses significant risks to a celebrity’s reputation: Some have used the app for more nefarious purposes, such as scripting videos to trick celebrities into making racist or other insults.

Last year, the “Russian group” A series of videos was commissioned and stitched together. Video recordings from Cameo and similar services made it appear as if various prominent U.S. figures were calling Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky a corrupt drug addict, creating the illusion that they were helping to stage an intervention.

The disinformation campaign also included cameos from actor Elijah Wood and convicted rapist boxer Mike Tyson, though both have since withdrawn their cameos, and both Norris and Flannery are still active on the site.

Cameo takes 30% of creators’ fees for handling sales, transaction fees, and hosting and submitting the videos. Larger creators appear to have decided to forgo this potential revenue stream because it would require making lots of individual videos that never get published, or because of the risks. But smaller creators say it’s a convenient, hassle-free source of funding with few downsides.

Source: www.theguardian.com