(Credits: Far Out / Parker Coffman / Jon Tyson)
Analogue was built to last. A vinyl record is tangible, tactile and born to gather dust. The music contained is bound to match it—to defy the decay of time and remain at hand for the moment you wish to return to it. Meanwhile, trying to find an online video from a few months back is a futile task. The algorithm has marched on from it, mercilessly pushing forward. It’s onto the next big thing. So, does music in the digital age follow this same pattern?
The term ‘fast fashion’ was first coined in the 1990s to define the modern “approach to the design, creation, and marketing of clothing fashions that emphasises making fashion trends quickly and cheaply available to consumers”. The result is that we snap up more than twice as many items of clothing each year than we did in the 1980s and quickly discard the discount items for our next fix. It’s not a huge leap to say that music is falling into a similar mould.
We are now listening to more music than ever before – roughly 21 hours of it every week. And we’re producing more of it, too – roughly 120,000 songs are released every day. Most of it is also produced cheaper than ever before, and it seems to be proving more disposable. Like fashion before it, culture has become ‘fast’. Other than the rampant forces of late-stage capitalism, what is driving this trend?
Well, if an ‘other than’ is truly needed, I turned to Steve McCarthy, the Programme Leader for Music Business at LCCM, to find out. He reflected that one of the most notable trends of the modern age in music is slow-burn success stories, whereby “music is released, but doesn’t enter the charts until going viral on social media”. Plenty of songs have followed this pattern—’Messy’ by Lola Young took two months to make it number one, and it took Chappell Roan’s ‘Pink Pony Club’ almost five years to manage the same feat.
Why are these staggered successes occurring so commonly? Well, according to McCarthy, the way we consume music plays into it. “The fragmentation of music consumption across various platforms and genres plays a role. It creates a landscape where niche trends can explode rapidly, but their longevity is often questionable,” he comments.
In other words, we’re dispersed into the macrocosm of the World Wide Web, where everything is spread thin and ruled over by algorithms. These algorithms keep everything under control and moving forward, launching fad after fad, like guisers that explode in a desert until the spigot runs dry, and the digital nomads have to move on to the next one for sustenance. Presently, TikTok is the medium selecting the next spigots, “In February this year, Music Business Worldwide reported that TikTok claimed 84% of songs that entered Billboards Global 200 chart in 2024 went viral on TikTok first.”
As we know, TikTok is a constant stream of culture rather than a repository. So, with things shooting up and disappearing into the past, does this set a dangerous precedent for the future of music? Will artist’s careers be impacted? And is there ripe potential for foul play?
As for the latter point, according to McCarthy, “Influencers and content creators are often paid to promote music. The line between genuine organic growth and calculated marketing strategies is often blurred.” So, trends might be dictated by those who stand to profit from them rather than by the will of the public. In an age where the money in the music industry lies with three major labels, that proposition is troubling.
The global market share, as of 2022, consisted of 31.9% Universal Music Group, 30% independent record labels, 22.1% Sony Music Entertainment, and 16% Warner Music Group. Prior to the pandemic, the independent share was at 33.8%, and it is feared that it will continue to fall, creating a monopoly among the three major labels and their many subsidiaries. Thus, the fear is that they can essentially fund future trends, which then dictate the charts because it is via these trends that the vast majority of youngsters find and consume music.
This is also problematic when it comes to the future of artist’s careers. Artists now find themselves at the mercy of the ebb and flow of trends dictated by volatile virality, which has sadly become the violently fleeting force shaping modern music. While a quick hit might offer lucrative and immediate financial returns, it’s harder to manage and maintain than sustained success.
“Building a lasting career in music requires consistent effort, artistic development, and a strong brand,” McCarthy explains. “We encourage our students to focus on developing their craft and building a loyal fanbase rather than chasing fleeting viral trends.” However, that is McCarthy’s prerogative; whether bosses at major labels share the same outlook remains to be seen, with various artists recently speaking out about how they’ve been forced to try and kickstart a trend on TikTok as part of a marketing campaign.
Yet, major labels claim that virality is simply an invaluable tool that should be engaged in the modern age. To get their side of the story, I spoke with Jack Melhuish of Armada Music, who explained, “When social media virality is harnessed correctly, artists can connect with new generations of listeners and breathe new life into their work.” For instance, MGMT’s ‘Time to Pretend’ recently garnered a 96% spike in streams after the track went viral among high school students on TikTok.
So, Melhuish adds, “Increased recognition and a growing social media following act as part of a positive feedback loop scenario: the artists, with a now unprecedented reach, are able to promote the track that brought new audiences to them, which increases streams, spreading more awareness of the track or the artist, which in turn drives new followers to their socials, and the cycle repeats”.
“In the age of social media, artist interaction with fans is not only easier than ever before but has become an essential part of creating and growing an artist’s brand and overall reach.”
Jack Melhuish of Armada Music
So, are we simply Luddites to look back at the analogue age as more organic and timeless when social media is just a tool to help expand the possibilities and promotion of art? After all, you could hardly consider the sustained growth of Chappell Roan as ‘fast music’. The worry, however, is that a new star at the start of their journey might have a minor viral hit and be pushed towards more of the say forevermore—failing to reach Roan’s lofty peak and facing diminishing returns.
In other words, would The Beatles have ever been given the creative license to get to Revolver if ‘Love Me Do’ had gone viral? Sgt Pepper is still in print and as relevant as ever almost 60 years on from its release—but if The Beatles had formed in 2025, would Brian Epstein be pouring ice on anything avant-garde and explaining that the only way for the working-class lads to have a sustainable future in music is for them to offer up another viral dance trend like ‘Twist and Shout’?
Beyond financial considerations, the psychological impact of this digital-first music industry is profound. Do the musicians of the future view themselves as artists or content creators? McCarthy notes that the very way we understand and interact with art is evolving. Music consumption is no longer just about listening—it’s about interaction, participation, and adaptation. But is it also about consumption rather than connection? Is the shuffle button future making music more disposable and unsustainable?
McCarthy suggests that the industry may even pivot towards AR-driven immersive experiences, fundamentally altering how we engage with music. Will this deepen our engagement or further accelerate the trend of disposable consumption?
Amid the rapid pace of virality, we must pause and ask: What happens to music that doesn’t trend? If an artist’s worth is increasingly determined by an algorithm’s predetermined favour, does the idea of an enduring legacy still hold weight? The digital tide may be unstoppable, but whether it washes music away or preserves it in new forms remains an open question.
We’re still in the infancy of the digital-first movement, but for now, it seems clear that fads are proving fractious rather than facilitating a bright new future. As the LCCM suggests, grassroots development is still the safest way to ensure authenticity that connects with a crowd on a sustainable basis and helps artists break free from the flippant cycle of chasing down a favour from a binary bot.
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