We are officially halfway through summer in our house. It’s that time when the last day of school feels like a million years ago, with another million to go until the start of another academic year. We’re in it.
And still, I sense the passing of time acutely. My oldest will be a senior, and there’s a bittersweet feel to it all. I want to freeze time and embrace the future simultaneously.
This feeling is exactly why, two weeks ago, I took my teenagers to see The Weeknd in Los Angeles. I’m not always sure I’ve cracked the teenage boy code, but I did okay with this one—favorite artist, loud music, pyrotechnics, staying up late, and pizza. I went to a ton of concerts as a teenager, so I rocked out, and one of my college besties joined us, which made it that much more fun. Life is busy; mostly, I wanted to spend some carefree time with some of my favorite people.
This is the second concert I’ve attended this summer, and I’ve learned something about myself. I’ve always enjoyed live music, and it’s not because I’m a musician. Unlike my boys and the guy in front of us who had some next-level dance moves, I didn’t know the words to every Weeknd song. It didn’t matter. When I see how musical artists share their work and interact with their audience in real time, it lends a new perspective to them as creators and humans—which gets me thinking about AI and the concerns surrounding creative work.
Recently, I read about an AI-generated band, Velvet Sundown, that, according to Spotify’s numbers, has found some success. The copyright concerns surrounding creative work are legitimate, as well as how AI might change what it means to make a living from one’s art. Still, I’m not convinced that it will eliminate actual, human-generated creative work, especially after this concert.
First of all, let’s talk about those LED wristbands. Do you know what I’m talking about? They’ve been around for a while, but certainly not when I hit Wembley Stadium or the Astoria in the 90s. If you haven’t experienced them, the bracelets light up in sync with the music and the visual effects of the show. 70,000 LEDs are more than supplementary; they are a part of the performance in their own right. The audience is part of the show.
Those bracelets are made by a company called PixMob. Take a look at their “why.”
At PixMob we believe that shared experiences have transformational powers.
Great, emotion-targeted marketing for sure. I can’t say I disagree.
As for shared, transformational experiences, about midway through the concert, this happened (although this video is not from the show we saw at SoFi, it’s part of the same tour and essentially the same concert).
The Weeknd is not the first artist in the history of live music to share his mic and/or interact directly with his audience. But look at how he interacts.
After the concert, I did a little digging. The Weeknd consistently appears delighted in a way that communicates he values them. When he invites them to sing, more often than not, he risks his song being sung by an amateur—but it doesn’t seem to bother him (except for maybe here). He appears to be having a great time! And why not? At its simplest, two people singing together is a form of human connection. Singing with the person who wrote/sings your favorite song, along with 70,000 other fans? Transformational.
Now, is The Weeknd a well-practiced performer night after night? Wouldn’t anyone be in a good mood if they were making millions with each show? Of course. Could he be dog-tired and not in the mood to sing? Could it all be an act? Sure!
To me, none of that adds up.
Here’s another example. Remember Taylor Swift and the “22” hat?
It’s the same thing.
Both of these artists have fans who adore their music and the people who sing their favorite songs. Fans invest in art and its creator. Every time? Perhaps not, and it may depend on how deeply the work resonates with someone. Think about your favorite song, book, or image. A human created the work that spoke to you in some way. That’s meaningful.
It could be a very easy time for creators to throw up their hands and call it quits. What’s the point when AI can produce in hours or days what may take us years to accomplish?
As a creator and a fan of all sorts of art, I can honestly say that sounds less threatening than it does boring—for everyone! This kind of work is mostly process; we’re learning and understanding more about the world and ourselves as we go. When real people read your book and sing your songs? That’s the icing on the cake of creative work. Anyway, who wants to go to a concert where the music is played by... no one?
To me, connection is at the heart of why people won’t tire of human-generated art, and live events with creators will always be popular. Concerts, author talks, gallery shows, etc., provide opportunities for connection to fellow fans, to the art itself, and the creators, if you’re lucky enough to get that book signed or be handed the mic.
We live in a tech-fueled world and AI is here to stay. I won’t argue that point. Humans will always be curious about something new, and an AI-generated band qualifies. But long-term? How deeply can people emotionally invest in the products?
I don’t know the answers. Perhaps I’m naive, but I tend to lean towards optimism. Even in a troubled world, I can’t help it, because the one thing AI cannot offer is humanity.
What do you think? Please let me know in the comments!
You express this AI concept with all its concerns so well that I can only say, "Right On! You said it best."
I really appreciated this piece, Maria. So true: ultimately, AI art is boring! AI can be fun to play with creatively, but its output is no substitute for a living connection with real artists.