Against the stream
Deep Dive 05 | Where analog music culture will rise from
Hi folks
Happy New Year! Welcome to The Industry Playlist 🎵
It’s been a minute. The last few months been a wildly difficult time. I lost my most devoted reader to a cruel and complex congenital kidney disease recently. She wasn’t part of the music industry but read every blog post I wrote with boundless curiosity. Not only this Substack, she kept newspaper clippings of all my op-eds, meticulously preserving everything I ever published. We all have a favorite parent, and losing my mum has been heartbreaking. It wasn't always at the forefront of my mind, but knowing there was at least one guaranteed reader kept that creative fire warm. Writing again, knowing she won’t be there to read it, has been a mountain to climb.
It’s been over three months since my last post. To get back to writing, I needed to reconnect with what energizes me about music culture—the reason I started this Substack in the first place. In my very first post, I wrote:
“We seem to have lost some of the analog behaviors that once defined our relationship with music. The experiences and spaces that created deep, emotional connections with the music and the artists who made it, are slowly retreating…..the serendipitous discovery of new music has been supplanted by algorithms. While streaming has made music more accessible, it has also diluted the richness of our music experiences.”
These ‘analog behaviors’ have shaped my most enduring musical memories - catching an emerging act on a small stage; seeing a room full of people dancing to the infectious energy of a DJ behind the decks; a beautiful venue that made a performance timeless; inheriting musical taste from a parents cassettes collection; a playlist made by a friend - I could go on.
What makes these analog behaviors special? Two key properties that stand on their own independently:
A physical, non-digital environment that engages more than one sense at a time
A social energy arising when we share a ‘moment’ with others that stirs something deeper inside us
This is where magic happens, where memories take root and nostalgia grows.
I will continue to shout through the roofs for as long as I can - our tastes are shaped by the preferences, the stories and the aspirations of the people around us; rather than the algorithms that surround us. That’s what makes us human.
Analog behaviors is how we experience that humanity. They build the foundation of shared, communal nostalgia; the most enduring unifying force in the world.
That’s why I write this Substack. It’s my way of learning about the gears that make analog music culture thrive (or fade). I want more people to experience it, and I want to help build an ecosystem that does everything to bring a new artist on a stage, in front of an audience, as soon as possible - give them a ladder to level up their artistry in a world where analog behaviors thrive. My Substack is just an exploration on how we can get there.
As I return to writing, I want to share what excites me about analog music culture heading into 2025. I see promising signs of change - individually imperfect pieces of evidence that, when taken together, suggest something real - a shift that suggests we might be rediscovering what we nearly lost.
Let's dive in.
Anti-algorithm movement gears are churning
There is so much going on here. Diving into the depths of internet culture, there is growing resistance to algorithmic determination. Artists are voicing their concerns (1, 2, 3), listeners are finding themselves trapped in the mix.
The scale and velocity of algorithmic determination in what we consume has surpassed any curatorial technology. Music is a prime target category because it now has a decade plus of streaming and listening data that is primed to be 'mined'. Algorithms hone in on our taste profile, fixates on it, and sets up residency there.
This approach would work if we were purely individualistic, but humans are inherently social. Our preferences are shaped by our relationships, our communities, and our desires for novelty. We are social beings who crave human connection, which algorithms simply cannot replicate. Music discovery, for example, has always been a deeply social activity. Whether it’s a friend recommending a track, a surprising genre you stumble upon, or a live gig that takes you by surprise, it’s always been the people around us who introduce us to new soundscapes. Even the radio, despite its passive role, is inherently social – there’s a voice guiding us through the noise.
Why, then, have we come to accept that music today is primarily experienced alone and mediated through screens? Algorithms may help us find what we already like, but they suffocate culture by offering more of the same, pushing us toward cultural homogenization.
Algos are unfortunately flattening culture because it squeezes out humans. It has taken the 'social' out of music. It is insidiously pushing out every bastion of human curation out of our lives. It is pushing each of us down a path of convergence of the same stuff, rather than supporting a cultural diversity that is so important to art. We are living in the age of the average and algos are the main drivers behind the convergence.
This idea is catching on even if it hasn't been coined as an anti-algorithm movement. Culture writers are talking about shunning algorithms in creative fields. Artists are realizing that they need to have direct relations with fans. The cultural sentiment is shifting; you might have come across the 'touching grass' memes on the internet that reflect our collective fatigue with algorithmic recommendations. There is a recognition of what the algorithm is 'feeding you', and increasing dissatisfaction with going down rabbit holes that are addictive but don't give us the collective joy we experience when you know your friends are into that as well. The value of human curators is becoming clearer: the desire for recommendations from people we trust, rather than machines, is on the rise.
This isn’t an anti-technology stance—it’s a reclaiming of what makes us human in our music consumption. We need human tastemakers more than ever. Imagine if you had AI to determine the line-up of a music festival? Sounds pretty shitty to me, even if it has deeply mined my taste profile and served up the perfect meal. But I don't want that perfect meal, I want variation, I want novelty, I want surprise, I want a story, I want to experience magic.
Resurging nostalgia is bringing back irl social music culture
It’s hard to ignore the wave of nostalgia sweeping through popular culture today. Revival tours, reissues of classic albums, there are music movies and other media being created to re-energize fandom. Private equity companies and labels are buying music catalogs to bring them back to life. Whole fandom worlds are being created like never before.
These are all indications that nostalgia is not just a marketing tactic—it’s a response to something deeper. In a world where crisis and uncertainty seem to dominate the headlines, people are turning to the past to cope, find comfort, and rebuild a sense of connection.
Nostalgia serves an evolutionary purpose. It’s more than just a feel-good mechanism—it helps us navigate life’s stresses, connect with others, and reawaken creativity. And in today’s world, where social isolation and digital alienation are increasingly common, it’s no surprise that nostalgia is coming to the forefront. While nostalgia is a private reflection exercise, it often features social interactions and meaningful relationships with other people. Are we leaning into nostalgia today because we are craving the simpler times of the past?
We might be witnessing peak cultural transmission of nostalgia than in the recent past. While a whole bunch of money chasing catalogs is a bad thing for the moment (it comes at the cost of not investing in new artists/business models), there might be a silver lining here.
This pursuit to capitalize nostalgia is surfacing opportunities for analog behaviors to come back alive. There is a greater push to move out of digital and bring back irl. Fans can't get enough, concerts sell out in minutes, resale markets are booming, reddit communities are buzzing, people are making memes and sharing their memorable moments, and press (not just music press) is churning again to cover these cultural moments. Nostalgia might have quietly just brought back fandom alive.
So while these are legacy acts that benefit disproportionately in this time; the host of analog behaviors that this shift is igniting will bleed into a refreshed irl relationship with music culture, that I think will energize artistry across the board. Nostalgia will eventually peter out and the irl social muscle memory will kick in for new sounds.
The word nostalgia is a compound of the ancient Greek words nostos (return home) and algos (pain). Funny. Is returning home (irl social music culture of the past) the key to break free from modern algos?
I think so.
Analog worldbuilding is just beginning
This follows from nostalgia. But with an added flavor of taking the lead on a different vector of fandom. Getting on a stage. The live business. The soul of entertainment. The revival of analog music culture is taking shape in unexpected ways, both on small stages and grander scales.
Our digital landscape continues to move much of our social lives online. Platforms like Spotify may provide endless options, but they also reduce our connection to the music itself. So much so that I struggle to recall the names of contemporary artists I listen to. Despite spending over 100k minutes on Spotify last year, when asked about my all-time favorite, I instinctively think of Queen—though I rarely listen to them anymore. It's just that my mind defaults to a time when music was discovered the old-fashioned way, two decades ago, and that memory is still deeply ingrained.
Analog experiences cut much deeper; our cultural moments are still made offline as much as we'd like to think we live online. Today, our collective sonic repertoire is converging into a singular mood enhancing machine-determined 'vibe' that meets our needs just enough, but ignores our wants (or worse, tells us what to want).
Coldplay just performed in Bombay this weekend, and you saw how everyone across the age spectrum descended to catch them live. Maybe it is a status thing, maybe it is a fan thing - our motivations may be different, but you cannot ignore how enthralled it got everyone to 'want' to be a part of it.
Analog worldbuilding is an antidote to that numbing we have become accustomed to. It's easy to think of analog worldbuilding as something big as what I imagine a Taylor Swift concert is like. But even artists on small stages, conceptualizing their storytelling and art in aesthetics beyond just sound, is what counts. If you have engaged more than one sense at a time, of mine, you are building an analog world for me to connect with your artistry.
Across the globe, small yet significant examples of this are popping up. In my own backyard of Goa there are many experiments underway that connect with audience is different ways - Immerse Impact, Sultry Mist, Disco Diwali - to label them as just another party/event is striping them of its layers, a disservice to the artists who are leading with their taste and nurturing the community along with them. I think they are on to something. Shared communal experiences, rooted in place, sustained by word of mouth, over a period of time, will do more for cultivating fandom than any viral reel ever will.
Other examples of how people around the world are reclaiming analog music culture through localized projects, like public libraries serving as archives, and the formation of music co-ops. Listening cafes/rooms, vinyl clubs etc. are popping up everywhere. We are witnessing the revival of geographic authenticity as a competitive advantage, all emphasizing turning away from the screen in favor of engaging with real-world communities and spaces.
On the big-money industry/organized side of things, we are seeing remarkable conviction of creating artistic worlds too. I'm talking purpose-built experiences that create had-to-be-there moments. Adele's 10-show Munich residency where she created 'Adele World', hosting 750k fans, remains one of the most unique artist-themed outdoor concert entertainment universes of 2024. With all this money pumping into catalogues, and resurging nostalgia, we are going to see more music's version of Disney Lands (the OG analog worldbuilders).
More importantly, we are approaching a tipping point. Artists have been grinding their teeth as gig workers in this streaming economy that pays them a pittance, driving wasteful efforts in search for virality, to now being threatened with AI. A growing number of artists cannot expect to make meaningful livelihoods relying on the same economic structures that have deprived them. They will start looking beyond streaming and social media.
Now that the music business is clearly bifurcating – splitting into two – with streaming emerging as the place for mainstream music and lean back consumption, and social as the spiritual home of fandom. The analog worldbuilders will finally get their time in the sun.
The medium is the message.
IRL music discovery is emerging from the cracks of streaming
Our stages don't promise discovery any more. They are filled with what is already popular and big. In theory, fans say they want to discover new acts, but this often doesn’t translate to ticket sales or engagement. Festivals, sure, but regular music programming, not really. The paradox is clear: while people crave novelty, they remain tethered to what is known and comfortable. The question isn’t just whether people want to discover new music, but whether they are willing to seek it out beyond the familiar algorithms of streaming platforms.
I don't blame them, our risk averse consumerism is tied to this idea - we want reviews, testimonials, everything before we make a purchase decision. Our algo-trained brains have made it impossible to sit with ideas/things/concepts that are 'random', and our short attention spans make it harder for us to thoughtfully consider them.
At a time where the music ecology around Spotify continues to wither away, its bid to become an all-consuming platform means growing potential for the complete collapse of an engaged music culture and its replacement by a parallel world where music is just filler. “The suggestion that the businesses of pop music, mood-enhancing background sounds, and independent art-making ought to all live on the same platform, under the same economic arrangements, and the same tools of engagement, is a recipe for everything being flattened out into one ceaseless chill-out stream,"
With Spotify, the live music ecology continues to wither away. Any reasonable business models in music that could fairly compensate all stakeholders (as in the past) have been squeezed away because streaming has come to be the most efficient economic arrangement to compensate stakeholders at the smallest atomic level - a single 30 second stream. If you can compensate an artist just to complete 30 seconds of a song on a digital platform and move on to the next, why would you risk platforming an artist on a real stage to play for an hour without the option to press skip?
History is also repeating itself - the only business models that are growing in the live space are ticketing platforms (they are essentially data businesses monetizing purchase behavior), much like Ticketmaster + Live Nation has done in the US. These ticketing platforms eventually get into the live business with their walled garden IPs, and we're left with 'vibes' you buy into, than 'culture' you participate in.
Frankly, there are too much, too soon, capitalistic tendencies on the scene to the point of inauthenticity, and not enough space for cultural renaissance. The cards are against the live industry. So now what?
Overcoming the headwinds requires rethinking the purpose of a 'stage' and how consumers interact with it. If you believe, there is an analog spring coming; if you believe humans are social (and that music is best enjoyed with other humans); if you believe that 'taste' is essentially a human trait - then you represent the 'market demand' for analog experiences that is surfacing new economic arrangements to compensate stakeholders while at the same time reduce the cost curve to make more of those experiences happen for more people.
There are many of you out there. We are seeing some interesting developments, and I am paying close attention. Both as a writer of this blog, but more importantly, as a participant of analog music culture.
There are three things happening in live that are worth mentioning - subscription supported microculture (and relatedly, social clubs); sophisticated pairings of live music with other cultural elements; and analog worldbuilding (linked with geographic authenticity). Often it's a combination of one and more things that is warming up consumer demand for live music today.
Elsewhere is a popular music venue in Brooklyn that is experimenting with membership plans and apparently it's working! The reasons are simple - people want to be part of a club, a community of music lovers, and not just 'attendees'. Elsewhere has shunned ticketing platforms and have built their own tech stack to support community memberships. This is a fundamental shift of marketing music experiences, because it gets you behind the music programming first, rather than let your default kick in which is to only buy tickets of gigs that you know you will like. By reintroducing the social and serendipitous aspects of music discovery, these venues and events are creating spaces that feel authentic and worthwhile—spaces that could never exist in a digital-only world.
Dancing continues to be the primary activity most people (intentionally) engage with live music, but space is emerging for different kinds of engaged music culture paired with food, fashion, dating, sports, and broadly lifestyle. One of the most eclectic ideas I have come across is a shape-shifting space that transforms from a dinner party to a rave as the night progresses. Belgium-based Erased Studio is redefining what it means to mix multiple cultural elements together to create a unique experience. There are more home studio live music projects emerging than ever before, bringing the price down while ramping up the authenticity meter. You can add sophistication as a vector to combat high rent and price appropriately. Japanese listening bars fit into that mold. And speakeasys, there are not enough speakeasys!
The future of live music depends on rethinking the stage. It’s about creating spaces that feel authentic, social, and worth showing up for—not just for the music but for what surrounds it. When tastemakers, low rents, and creative pairings come together, magic happens. Analog music culture is fighting back if you pay attention. The question is, will we rise to meet it?
I'm gunning for a world where catching a new act on stage before they break out becomes the social currency.
Decolonizing sound with analog
How do we make space for a true cultural renaissance in music? How do sonic traditions from non-Western regions break into the global zeitgeist?
The reality is that artists outside the Western world are consistently placed in reductive boxes. "Hip-hop" becomes “Latin hip-hop,” “African rap,” or “Desi beats,” as if Western sound is the unspoken default. Meanwhile, nobody calls Drake’s music “Canadian rap.”. U.S. artists rarely get tagged with qualifiers like “American rap.”
The way genre is defined and marketed, especially on platforms like Spotify, reflects a deep Eurocentric bias that dilutes cultural authenticity. Spotify’s obsession with umbrella terms like “i-pop” for India just proves how poorly big tech views cultural capital.
Analog might just be the antidote. In South Asia, the instruments we play are steeped in stories — in tradition, costume, vibe, and energy. They demand to be experienced in their element, often on stage. That authenticity, alive and unfiltered, is a key differentiator. Coke Studio is the first trailblazer in this regard. By leaning into regional roots and celebrating the performance, they made something raw, something human.
India has untapped sonic potential that the world is yet to fully grasp. And the way forward isn’t stuffing it into a streaming algorithm — it’s taking it live. Fusion works best when it’s built in the flesh, not patched together via digital sampling. Imagine Indian classical collaborating with African beats or Latin strings in front of a crowd. That’s a vibe Spotify can’t touch. The export of Indian music doesn’t just need to break free of Western genre constraints; it needs to escape the algorithmic chokehold entirely.
Live music isn’t just an option for decolonizing sound—it’s the revolution.
The wise of every generation discover the same truths - unknown
Writing this essay, I had to confront some undeniable realities - GenZs cultural moments are online; a digital-first and algo-led virality is the pathway to ‘breaking out’ - paradigm shifts with the implied meaning that the future is conclusively digital.
Maybe I am out of sync with the times in this digital era? Maybe I am just old-fashioned now, trying to hold on some vaunted music culture past?
But then I also see that there are no TikTok stars in Billboard’s Top 100 Artists of the 21st century (Doja Cat is the closest of an internet star; she earned viral success as an internet meme that she turned into a successful music career). Everyone else on this list, or on Billboard’s Greatest of All Time 100 Artists, features artists who all have their origin story of performing on stage and getting discovered there.
That GenZs are increasingly shunning screens in favor of irl. There’s regulatory pushback against the negative effects of social media on children and the many entrapments of the digital world. Slowly but intentionally they are choosing different behaviors to forge connections with people around them; analog behaviors that bring a renewed vigor to how they experience life. Who would’ve thunk!
There are two lessons for a music entrepreneur to help reconcile this dissonance - 1) as something gets commoditized (becoming cheap and abundantly available), there are other things (usually complementary things) that become precious and scarce; and 2) you can build successful businesses in both directions.
With the experience of music in our digital lives gets completely commoditized, it is the complementary analog behaviors of music that becomes precious and scarce. Take these now precious and scarce analog behaviors, mix and match them in new novel ways, and you might just hit gold.
Quite literally, old wine in a new bottle.
Commoditization reduces the value of specific capabilities while simultaneously enabling the growth of new experiences. Value moves to novel forms of creative excellence not yet commoditized. The commodification cycle continues begetting a new wave of non-commoditized experiences.
It is at this dynamic tension where new age music businesses are born. Both digital and analog. I’m just hoping the most exciting music businesses of the next decade will be analog in their soul - an increasing necessary point of differentiation in my view.
The quiet rebellion against algorithmic determinism in music isn’t just a fad, it’s becoming a legitimate business model.
Something interesting to leave you with.
That’s all for today. We’ll be back in your inbox next week.
Thanks for reading,
Rohit