Spotify responds to rising concerns over AI-generated music and transparency
Spotify, the world’s largest music streaming platform, has responded to growing concerns over its use of artificial intelligence and the issues arising from it.
By Poppy Warriner
While Spotify’s AI-powered features have generated mixed responses, criticism from listeners and industry figures has largely focused on the broader use of artificial intelligence in music creation, as well as the disclosure and use of AI-generated content.
Discussion on the Spotify Community highlights the scale of user concern, with a recent poll attracting more than 12,000 responses calling for clearer labelling of AI-generated tracks and the option to filter them out.
Concerns extend beyond listeners. In 2024, the Guardian reported that more than 200 high-profile musicians, including Billie Eilish and Stevie Wonder, had demanded stronger protections against the use of AI in music.
In response, Spotify outlined new measures on its For the Record platform, addressing issues such as impersonation, mass-upload “spam” tactics and AI disclosure. The company said it “knows it isn’t a complete solution alone”, signalling the need for wider industry co-operation.
However, concerns remain, with listeners continuing to report difficulty identifying and filtering AI-generated material. Spotify has attempted to address this through a beta feature allowing artists to disclose how AI has been used in their work.
Writing for the BBC, technology reporter Zoe Corbyn noted that the system is “voluntary”, relying on information provided by artists, labels or distributors.
Spotify said it would continue to develop its use of AI while strengthening protections for artists, songwriters and producers, though debate persists over whether these measures go far enough.
The company said on For the Record that it “envision[s] a future where artists and producers are in control of how or if they incorporate AI into their creative processes” and that it will “continue to do work to protect them”.
Framing AI as a creative tool, Spotify maintains that its use can support, rather than replace, artists. However, concerns remain around the disclosure and transparency of AI in music.
The Guardia n Style Writing Review
“My music is never fixed” : Teyla on genre fluidity, finding her own voice and identity.
By Poppy Warriner
Being a student can feel both destabilising and exhilarating, a tension that runs through Teyla’s music. Still in the early stages of her career, she writes with a diaristic openness, moving between vulnerability and experimentation without settling in one place for long. Her songs shift from quietly confessional to more playful, hyperpop-leaning textures, though she resists pinning herself to any one sound. “It’s like a three course meal,” she says, laughing. “A bit of everything”.
When we meet, she is in the middle of working on her debut EP, still figuring out what shape it will take. We’re sitting in her flat, a small and lived-in space dotted with instruments, candles and mismatched plant pots. A bass leans against the wall; cables snake across the floor. She notices me looking. “I hate setting it up and packing away as you can tell” she laughs.
I first saw her play in February at The Witchwood, a local venue just outside Manchester. The set was intimate, slightly unpolished, but even more memorable for it. Afterwards, I introduced myself; a few weeks later, we’re here, talking about how it all started.
In person, Teyla cuts a striking figure with bright cherry red hair and a carefully assembled aesthetic. though it’s offset by a warmth that quickly settles the room. She makes tea as we talk, and what begins as small talk soon drifts into something more reflective.
She studied at both BIMM Institute in Manchester and Leeds Conservatoire and has been performing since she was 16. Much of that time was spent as a bass session musician which she still has on her social media but there is a noticeable shift in her content since she has ‘found the shoe that fits’ and began focusing on her own material.
“I just have so much to say,” she adds, when I ask about the shift. “I think I just reached a point where I had things I needed to say. I’d been helping other people tell their stories for so long, and I realised I had my own as well”.
Collaboration still sits at the centre of what she does. Many of the artists she works with are people she met during her studies now, she says, “most collaborations have developed into me finding my best friends,” gesturing towards a cluster of Polaroids on the windowsill. Moving between projects has meant moving between genres, something she embraces rather than resists.
“My own music is never fixed,” she says. “One track might lean R&B, the next might be indie rock, or something more electronic. It just depends on what I’m feeling.”
That fluidity places her slightly outside easy categorisation, though she sees it as a strength. “I think people are a bit bored of everything being put in boxes,” she says. “Life isn’t like that, so why should music be?”
Manchester, she suggests, has played a role in shaping that outlook. Often described as a kind of ‘second London’ for music in the UK, the city offers both opportunity and saturation. “It had everything I needed,” she says, “I think its important to step out of what you know”.
As a queer artist, she describes the city as largely supportive, though not without its complexities. “There’s definitely a sense of community,” she says. “And I think that feeds into the music, just feeling like you can be open.”
Around us, posters line the walls, a mix of contemporary pop acts and older, more alternative influences. She points to them occasionally as she talks, referencing artists who have shaped her approach not just sonically, but in how they present themselves. “It’s not just about the music,” she says. “It’s the world you build around it.”. Her poster of Billie Eilish next to her poster of The Prodigy shows not just her own genre fluidity but it portrays in her influences too.
That sense of world-building extends to how audiences respond to her. “People pick up on the honesty,” she says. “Even if they don’t relate to the exact situation, they connect with the feeling.”
When I ask whether music always must come from a place of emotional investment, she pauses. “for me, yeah” she says. “For me, I don’t think I could do this if i didn’t feel connected to it. It’s more than just making something that sounds good”
For now, her focus remains on the present: finishing the EP, continuing to collaborate, playing more shows. The future, she admits, is harder to define. “I’m loving where I’m at,” she says. “I just want to keep doing this, but on a bigger scale. More shows, more collaborations”
It’s an ambition that feels grounded rather than grand, less about chasing visibility and more about sustaining a way of working that already feels meaningful. For an artist still at the beginning, that clarity might be the thing that sets her apart.
NME Style Album Review
Raye -‘This Music May Contain Hope’ review: a cinematic masterpiece
By Poppy Warriner
On her second album This May Contain Hope, RAYE isn’t just experimenting, she’s stretching the limits of what a modern pop record can hold. Sprawling across 17 tracks and clocking in at 73 minutes, it’s an ambitious, at times overwhelming listen, but one that rarely loses its sense of purpose.
RAYE first made her mark with the jazz-leaning, emotionally raw 21st Century Blues, a record that earned her six BRIT Awards and positioned her as one of the UK’s most distinctive voices. Here, she pushes further. Funk, R&B, orchestral arrangements and cabaret-style theatrics all sit side by side, often within the same track.
It shouldn’t work. But… it does.
There’s a clear sense of scale from the outset. With contributions from Hans Zimmer, Al Green and the London Symphony Orchestra, the album leans into something cinematic, even indulgent. Elsewhere, collaborations feel more intimate, with appearances from her sisters and grandfather grounding the record in something more personal.
Conceptually, This May Contain Hope is just as expansive. Built around a seasonal structure, the album moves from darker, more introspective moments towards something lighter, more resolved. It’s a familiar arc, but RAYE leans into it with a theatrical flair. The spoken word opening, “allow me to set our scene”, signals exactly what’s to come, this is as much performance as it is album.
That attention to detail runs throughout. Tracks are layered with small, often unexpected choices, from subtle classical influences to playful sonic moments like the inclusion of an iPhone notification sound in ‘A WhatsApp Shakespeare’. It’s the kind of detail that rewards repeat listens, even if not every idea lands equally.
Where the album really holds together is in RAYE’s voice. Vocally, she remains one of the most compelling artists in UK pop right now, moving effortlessly between restraint and power. Every song captures the emotional honesty RAYE was intending to portray with this album.
That said, the album’s length can work against it. At 17 tracks, there are moments where the ambition tips into excess, and not every song carries the same weight.
On first listen, This May Contain Hope is breathtakingly impressive. It’s messy in places, ambitious throughout, and undeniably confident, the sort of album you may not be able to appreciate fully until you’ve had a few listens.
RAYE isn’t following trends here. If anything, she’s setting a blueprint others might be tempted to chase. Something so simple as adding a track dedicated to acknowledging all involved, including all 80 London Symphony players, makes this track even more special.
Opinion piece for Sunday Broadsheet – The Times
- By Poppy Warriner
How Much Of A Threat Is AI To The Music Industry
The music industry, like many others, is being reshaped by artificial intelligence. The question is no longer how AI might influence music but, has shifted to a bigger question of will AI outlast humans inside of the music industry. Miscommunications are becoming more frequent, apps like Spotify and artists with how they use AI feel like information is being withheld.
Its impact is already clear. Songs can now be written, produced and performed entirely by AI, often at a fraction of the cost and time required by human musicians. In some cases, listeners are unaware that what they are hearing is not human at all. Streaming platforms have begun removing large volumes of AI-generated content and spam accounts, highlighting both the scale of the issue and the difficulty of regulating it.
For those working within the industry, the implications are significant. As AI tools become more accessible and cost-effective, there is a growing risk that roles traditionally held by skilled musicians, producers and vocalists may begin to diminish. It is cheaper, and often faster, to rely on AI than to invest in human talent. While AI has the potential to support creativity, it is increasingly being used in ways that suggest replacement rather than assistance.
The effect extends beyond those creating music to those consuming it. Listeners are now faced with the possibility that curated playlists may include AI-generated tracks without their knowledge. This lack of transparency raises questions about trust. Calls for clearer labelling, allowing audiences to distinguish between human and AI-produced music, reflect a wider unease. Yet responses from platforms have been inconsistent, often offering alternatives rather than direct solutions.
Debate around AI in music is not new. Some argue it provides valuable tools, enabling artists to experiment and refine their work. Others see it as a threat to originality, reducing creativity to something that can be generated rather than experienced. The reality likely sits somewhere between the two, but the direction of travel is becoming harder to ignore.
AI can be a tool that supports the music industry rather than hinders it: it can push creative boundaries, teach people new skills and be used to collect data quickly for things like Spotify wrapped. However, the issue lies within the music industry and makes us all wonder, how far will AI go? When listeners to apps feel lied to, artists feel replaced and companies like Spotify keep rolling out new AI features, it is only a matter of time until AI is abandoned or the human element of the music industry.
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