Zoe Gorman - Music’s Impact and Why AI Can’t Replace It
I try my best not to show it but I practically run on anxiety. Growing up as a shy girl from San Diego with a single mom and a Greek-immigrant grandmother who acts more like a sibling, I often felt isolated, struggling to handle the chaos at home.
I found my voice through Girl Scouts and musician fan culture. I’ve experienced the empowerment that comes from having a supportive community, whether it's through my co-counselors at Girl Scout camp or online-friends who love the same music.
I've sold nearly 20,000 cookie boxes over my lifetime, but my most cherished experience with Scouts has been summer camp. From a camper to staff, I've given and received the meaning of ‘camp magic’. I use those lessons to shape everything I do. It’s why I value teamwork, individuality, and empathy.
My music obsession also became a community that always pushed me into a better version of myself. I spent middle school attempting to learn guitar, which did not go well, so instead I funneled my creativity into fan-accounts on social media. What started as unserious content shocked me when over time I gained a small following.
Engaging in fan culture has forced my creativeness to grow alongside the creators I look up to. I evolved from making humorous posts to photoshopping tour posters and cyanotype prints, all expressing my admiration for creative direction behind music.
In the past year I’ve pursued photography. Capturing everything between beach sunsets to friends to messed-up coffee orders, in hopes of one day taking photos for tours and albums.
My goal is to explore the music industry at UCLA this fall, focusing on managing, marketing and one day working at a record label. Camp and music have shown me I’m never alone, and that’s the legacy I want to leave
Something that drives my love for music, is artistry. Recently there’s been a lot of conversation about AI generative music, here’s my thoughts on it.
In the article, “AI music isn't going away. Here are 4 big questions about what's next” by Jewly Hight, the author addresses the main questions she believes we should be asking ourselves when considering the future of AI in music with interviews on the ELVIS Act, a rule that was signed into law this past summer that put added regulations on AI in creative media, most recently adding rules against the use of voice in AI. All in hopes of continuing to ensure the protection of artists as a whole. These conversations have the potential to not only help us think about the legislative reasoning, but also help us question our personal morals regarding the future of AI in artistic fields by including both.
When discussing the capabilities, ethical implications, and the legislative and cultural responses of AI in music, I find it important to call attention to what exactly music is defined as.
According to Google, music is defined as, “Vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such a way as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion”.
It's also important to consider this definition to be subjective, everyone has their own personal definition of what music means to themself. For example, most people only consider anything categorized under a “song” to be considered their definition of music, while others also choose to include things like wind chimes making a rhythmic sound in the breeze in that definition. It depends on who you are. I think the same ideology can be applied when discussing generative AI in music.
The first talking point brought up in the article was: “What exactly does Generative AI do, how has it interacted with music?”. Hight explains that generative AI analyzes pre-existing human made work in order to create, rather creating something natural and original. One of Hights interviewee’s, Mary Bragg, a Nashville musician, said that she knows people in music who have used AI productively and more of a way to generate new ideas in overcoming writer's block.
Hight also explains how AI can improve access to quality production tools, which would uplift independent artists immensely. Generative AI analyzes pre-existing human made work in order to create, rather creating something natural and original. This brings the question of what we really value in music? Do we value fostering new ideas or original/creative work? Is there a way to find a happy medium with both?
The two following points Hight makes are “Who are the people calling for protections against AI and what are they worried about?” and “Why is AI so hard to Regulate?” I believe these two questions go hand in hand. Specifically Hight uses singer Grimes, as one of many examples of someone who has allowed in certain cases for AI to use her sound but also believes it is very important we proceed with much caution and regulation due to the loss of “Human made intellectual artistic output”, rather than immediately seeking all the possible positive changes.
Hight goes on to explain the concerns of Deepfakes and the potential for AI to exploit artists' intellectual property. AI can use voices or styles that replicate musicians. This shows that AI waters-down authenticity and raises moral questions about consent. The ELVIS Act, a legislation in Tennessee is to protect AI-driven exploitation and safeguard creative integrity. As the article also notes, the law’s effectiveness depends on how well it balances artists rights while still allowing creatives to use AI innovations.
The final question explained by Hight is “New technology has upended the music industry before. Can we take any lessons from history?” In this section, Hight analyzes the cyclical relationship between technological innovation and the music industry's evolution. From the introduction of phonographs to streaming platforms, new tools have disrupted established “norms” while also creating opportunities for growth. Historically, these shifts came with fear of devaluation. Concerns that recorded music would corrupt the live performance experience or that streaming would diminish album sales.
However, the industry eventually adapted, finding ways to incorporate these innovations while enhancing accessibility and reach. The same principle could potentially apply to generative AI. While the challenges are unique—particularly around copyright, consent and authenticity. This idea suggests that human collaboration between artists and producers could be complementary with AI. I personally believe we should tread lightly to the extent of which we allow this. We need to also highlight moral concerns rather than just potential benefits.
At the beginning of this essay, I stated the textbook definition of music and explained how it is subjective. In my opinion, music could be any form of sound, but what I think a lot of people fail to realize is that sound is not the only thing that makes music actually matter. In a street interview by Subway Takes, one of my personal favorites and hit artist of the 2024 summer, Charli XCX, made the very broad statement that “Music is not Important”.
She goes on to explain the idea that music itself wouldn't hold as much importance and value without artistry. Charli goes on to say, “The thing is, artistry is important. And some artists don't have artistry. For me, it is like music alone is not giving me the world. Like I need an artist to give me the world, a great artist to me is more than just the songs, it is the entire culture and space that they inhabit”. While I do believe there are some factors in her statements that don’t always hold up in every conversation about music and artistry, it does heavily relate to the moral concepts behind generative AI music. One of the top comments under this interview quite literally states “This is why AI art will never replace real art” and I couldn't agree more.
The word music is defined by emotion. This is a fact. Emotion is something AI’s and Deepfake’s could never truly generate or replicate, because those things can't even feel to begin with. Though subjectively, AI music could technically be considered music, it is definitely not “important” in a way where it is providing anything emotionally revolutionary, new or unique to the industry. AI music does not have emotions, nor does it have artistry. The collaborative process between people that happens in the writing rooms and production studios is all a part of the human experience.
Overall, Jewly Hight's analysis emphasizes that while AI can replicate patterns and produce technically adept compositions, it lacks the artistry and cultural depth that define impactful music. This aligns with Charli XCX’s argument that artistry, not just sound, is what gives music its importance. Music’s true value lies in the emotions and collaborative experiences it fosters, which are inherently human traits that AI cannot replicate. By highlighting the moral and cultural stakes of generative AI, Hight and my reflections converge on the same point: AI music may have technical potential, but it can’t replace the soul of music, which stems from the emotional, communal, and artistic experiences unique to human creatives. This shared perspective reinforces the necessity of protecting artistry and culture as we integrate technology into the industry.