The world has never produced as much music as it does today.
According to the music platform Deezer, nearly 75,000 tracks entirely generated by artificial intelligence are uploaded every day. This now accounts for roughly 44% of all new music uploads on the service—a figure that has skyrocketed from approximately 10,000 tracks per day at the start of 2025 to more than seven times that amount today.
At first glance, it seems humanity has entered an era of infinite sonic abundance.
Algorithms compose melodies. Artificial intelligence mimics voices.
Works that would have required months of a composer's labor just a few years ago are now born in mere seconds.
Yet, alongside this progress, another question is becoming increasingly prominent.
If a machine can create music, what is left exclusively for humans?
Perhaps the answer lies somewhere we are not accustomed to looking.
Today, changes are occurring not only in technology but within the music industry itself. The streaming platform TIDAL has announced that, starting in mid-July 2026, it will no longer pay royalties for works entirely generated by AI. Meanwhile, music where AI serves as a tool in the hands of a creator remains both eligible and compensated.
This decision does not appear to be a crusade against technology.
Rather, it is an attempt to preserve the value of human creativity in a world where the boundaries between person and algorithm are becoming increasingly blurred.
Another point is equally compelling. Deezer researchers note that a significant portion of auto-generated music is produced not for the sake of art, but as an attempt to manipulate monetization systems. This serves as a reminder that the core issue today concerns not just technology, but the values humans bring to its application.
Paradoxically, it is during this era of rapid AI advancement that the value of something entirely non-technological is beginning to reveal itself.
Presence.
True music is not born the moment the first note sounds. It is born a moment before.
In that nearly imperceptible inner space from which the desire to speak to the world emerges.
A composer can write a piece.
A performer can play it flawlessly.
An algorithm can reproduce any harmony.
But there is something that cannot be generated.
Interestingly, scientists are asking similar questions today. A 2026 study by specialists at Carnegie Mellon University revealed that even technically high-quality AI-generated music was often perceived by listeners as less creative and emotionally expressive than music composed by humans. The study's authors suggest that the issue lies not just in the sound, but in the human experience, intent, and emotional depth behind the creation.
Perhaps this is why the same melody never sounds quite the same when performed by different people.
We are not just hearing music. We are hearing a human being.
When a musician takes the stage, they bring more than just technique and skill.
They bring their joy. Their doubts. Their losses.
The silence they once had to navigate.
None of this can be transcribed into sheet music. Yet it is exactly what becomes part of the sound.
Curiously, despite the rapid growth of auto-generated music, listeners are in no hurry to embrace it. Although these tracks account for nearly half of new uploads, they still represent only a small fraction of total streams. Perhaps the reason extends beyond sound quality alone.
It may be that listeners are still intuitively searching for the living presence of another person in music rather than a perfect algorithm.
This might be why the very questions we ask of music are changing.
Not long ago, the primary concern was: "How good does it sound?"
Today, a different question is surfacing more often: "What does this awaken within me?"
This is where the most interesting part begins. We are ceasing to simply listen to music.
We are starting to notice what happens inside ourselves as it plays.
And so it becomes clear that the future of music is defined not by how many pieces an algorithm can produce.
It is defined by how well humans maintain the ability to be truly alive within their own sound.
Humanity may not be facing a music crisis today. It is experiencing a rediscovery of music's true value. As creating sound becomes easier, it becomes increasingly clear,
that genuine art is not born of an algorithm. There are things that cannot emerge from calculations.
Presence.
Intent.
Sincerity.
These are the elements that transform a sequence of sounds into music.
Perhaps we are only at the beginning of a new exploration.
An exploration where music itself is no longer the primary subject.
But rather the person who listens to it.
Because the future of music is not determined by the volume of sound it generates.
But by the depth of feeling it evokes.
And perhaps this question will become one of the most compelling inquiries of our age:
What happens to a person when music ceases to be just sound?
