I’m afraid I’ll accidentally induct an AI band.
I’ve spent years trusting my instincts to discover tomorrow’s great artists. What happens if I can no longer trust what stopped my scroll?
As I continue building Scroll Stopper Club, there’s a fear sitting quietly in the back of my mind.
It isn’t that AI is going to write better songs than people.
It isn’t that musicians are going to disappear.
It’s something much more personal.
I’m afraid I’ll accidentally induct an AI band into the Scroll Stopper Club.
That might sound dramatic.
But it would shake the foundation of everything I’m trying to build.
Over the years, I’ve noticed something about myself.
I keep finding artists early.
Die Spitz.
KatzPascale.
Angine De Poitrine.
Mei Semones.
When I first stumbled across Mei Semones, she was playing tiny rooms. Now she’s opening arena shows for Vulfpeck.
I don’t say that because I think I have some magical ability to predict the future.
I don’t.
What I’ve learned is something much simpler.
When a song stops my scroll… I’ve learned to trust that feeling.
Not because I’m always right.
But because every time I’ve ignored that feeling, I’ve wondered if I just missed the next great artist.
That’s why Scroll Stopper Club exists.
Every episode begins the same way.
A song stops my scroll.
Then the investigation begins.
Why this song?
What grabbed me?
What is this artist doing that I haven’t heard before?
And maybe most importantly…
Is there really something here?
If the answer is yes, I don’t just want to share the song.
I want to understand it.
Because I think every great artist has something to teach the rest of us about making better art.
Lately, though, that investigation has become more complicated.
There have been several songs that stopped my scroll.
The hooks were catchy.
The production was polished.
Everything sounded… right.
Then I started looking for the band.
And something felt off.
I don’t know for certain whether these artists were AI-generated, and I’m not interested in accusing anyone of something I can’t prove.
But I’ve started noticing patterns.
The musicians are almost impossibly attractive.
Every video looks expensive.
The catalog grows at an unbelievable pace.
Every song sounds professionally finished.
But I never see them simply being musicians.
No rehearsal clips.
No phone videos.
No messing around between takes.
No trying to figure out a chorus.
No tiny club dates.
No upcoming shows.
The music exists.
The musicians… almost don’t.
Maybe there’s an explanation for every one of those things.
Maybe they’re just private people.
Maybe they’re new.
Maybe I’m completely wrong.
But the fact that I even have to ask the question tells me something has changed.
My investigations started with one question:
Why did this song stop my scroll?
Now there’s a second one.
Who’s behind it?
That bothers me more than I expected.
Because I’m not trying to discover the best algorithm.
I’m trying to discover the next great artist.
Those aren’t necessarily the same thing.
Ironically, I think AI is teaching me to appreciate something I used to overlook.
The rough demo.
The rehearsal.
The songwriter forgetting the second verse.
The guitarist searching for the right chord.
The little imperfections that remind you there are actual people behind the music.
Maybe that’s what authenticity is becoming.
Not perfection.
Evidence.
Evidence that another human being made this.
So if you’re an independent artist, here’s my advice.
Don’t hide the process.
Show us the first draft.
Show us the demo.
Show us the rehearsal.
Show us the mistakes.
Because the polished version tells me what you’ve made.
The messy version tells me who you are.
And in a world where machines can imitate almost anything…
That humanity may become the thing that stops my scroll.
P.S. This fear unexpectedly led me to one of the most interesting investigations I’ve worked on for Scroll Stopper Club. You’ll see what I mean in the next episode.