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.

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.”

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.

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.”