GOOD MUSIC ISN'T GOING TO INTRODUCE ITSELF

Are we doing enough to actively introduce great music to audiences, or are we relying too heavily on algorithms to connect the dots? 

We live in a time when music has never been more accessible. Millions of songs are available at our fingertips, independent artists can distribute their work worldwide, and a single video can introduce an unfamiliar artist to thousands of potential listeners overnight.

Yet, with all these tools at our disposal, I can't help but wonder if we've gotten a little too comfortable letting technology do the work of connecting people to music.

When did making a song available become the equivalent of actually introducing it to an audience?

Don't get me wrong. Algorithms have played an undeniable role in helping listeners discover artists they may never have encountered otherwise. Streaming platforms, social media, and personalized recommendations have created opportunities that would've been difficult to imagine a few decades ago.

But I think we're confusing accessibility with discovery, and discovery with genuine audience development.

Making music accessible is one thing. Giving people a reason to listen, care, and return to it is another.

A record can be distributed to every streaming service, added to playlists, and promoted across social media without ever being meaningfully introduced to the people who might appreciate it most.

And that's something I think we need to talk about.

Are We Marketing Music or Just Monitoring Its Performance?

One of my biggest frustrations with the way music is marketed today is how easily an artist's existing audience can become the blueprint for their entire career.

An artist breaks through with a particular sound, gains traction within a specific demographic, and suddenly everything surrounding their career is designed to appeal to that same group.

But what happens when the artist evolves? What happens when they make a record that could resonate with listeners outside the audience that initially discovered them?

I've been thinking about this while listening to J.P.'s "Peaches."

J.P. broke through with "Bad Bitty," but hearing "Peaches" made me think about an entirely different set of possibilities. The record has qualities that remind me of classic R&B, and I can imagine it connecting with listeners who might not know anything about his earlier music.

I hear opportunities for live performances, interviews, and a promotional campaign that introduces his artistry to audiences beyond the ones who already recognize his name.

I'm not suggesting that his team isn't pursuing those opportunities. I'm questioning why we don't see more conversations about this kind of audience expansion in music marketing generally.

Why should listeners who grew up on classic soul, people who enjoy contemporary R&B, and younger audiences discovering music through social media be treated as entirely separate markets when a record might speak to all three?

Sometimes the audience for a song is much bigger than the audience an artist already has. Somebody just has to make the introduction.

And that takes more than uploading a snippet and hoping people respond.

It takes creativity, research, relationships, and a willingness to put music in front of people who aren't already looking for it.

What Happened to Putting People On?

Before recommendation algorithms became such a prominent part of music discovery, people played an enormous role in shaping what audiences heard.

DJs broke records. Radio personalities introduced emerging artists. Music journalists told stories that helped listeners understand the people behind the songs. Friends exchanged recommendations, and local communities developed sounds that eventually reached the rest of the world.

None of those systems were perfect. Gatekeeping, favoritism, and limited access created plenty of barriers of their own.

Still, there's something valuable about somebody hearing a record, believing in it, and making an intentional effort to share it.

A recommendation from someone whose taste you trust carries something that an automatically generated playlist doesn't always provide: context.

They can tell you what caught their attention, what the music reminds them of, or why they think you'd appreciate it.

They can introduce you to an artist's influences, personality, and creative intentions. They can make you curious enough to listen for yourself.

And I think we need more of that.

Interestingly, even streaming platforms seem to recognize the value of a personal introduction. Earlier this year, Spotify incorporated editor-led video recommendations into New Music Friday, giving listeners more context about the songs and artists being recommended.

There's clearly still a place for human curation, even within an algorithm-driven listening experience.

So why would we treat it as optional everywhere else?

Great Music Needs More Than a Moment

Something else worth considering is how much our obsession with immediate performance affects our ability to recognize a record's long-term potential.

Not every song is going to explode during its first week. Not every artist will immediately find the audience they're meant to reach. Some records take months, years, or even generations to be fully appreciated.

That's part of what makes catalog music so valuable.

A song's commercial performance upon release doesn't necessarily determine its cultural value or longevity. Sometimes music finds a second life because of a film, a live performance, a sample, or somebody introducing it to a new generation.

But building that kind of longevity requires us to think beyond release week.

What does a record's life look like after the initial promotional campaign? How are we creating opportunities for people to discover music they missed? Are we helping artists build relationships with listeners, or simply trying to generate enough activity to move on to the next release?

These are questions that deserve more attention.

In her recent Billboard guest column, EMPIRE president Tina Davis argued that culture cannot be consolidated; it must be cultivated.

That distinction has stayed with me.

Cultivation requires investment, patience, and an understanding of what you're trying to grow. You can't manufacture every cultural moment, and you can't always measure an artist's potential by looking at what they've accomplished so far.

Sometimes you have to recognize what's possible before everybody else sees it.

Discovery Is Everybody's Business

I don't think the responsibility for introducing good music belongs to any single group.

Labels and artist teams should be thinking creatively about how to reach audiences beyond an artist's existing fanbase. DJs and curators should continue taking chances on records they believe in. Music journalists should remain curious enough to cover artists who haven't already been validated by commercial success.

And listeners have a role to play, too.

We can't continuously complain that everything sounds the same while refusing to explore what's unfamiliar. We can't demand originality and then ignore artists creating outside the sounds and trends we're already comfortable with.

There is so much incredible music being made right now, across genres, communities, and generations. The challenge isn't simply making more of it available.

It's making sure the right people have opportunities to encounter it.

That's part of what motivates my work as a cultural strategist and what we're building through Undrgrnd Paparazzi.

I believe music deserves more than a quick mention or a repost. I want to understand the people making it, the influences behind it, and the audiences it has the potential to reach.

That doesn't mean every artist deserves universal praise or that every record is destined to become a classic. It means we should be willing to engage with the music before deciding whether it's worth our attention.

Because if we're always waiting for a song to become popular before we introduce it to somebody, are we really discovering anything?

Or are we just reporting on what's already been discovered?

I don't believe algorithms are the enemy of music discovery. They're tools, and useful ones at that.

But they shouldn't replace the curiosity, instinct, advocacy, and human connection that have always helped music travel.

Good music doesn't always find its audience on its own. Sometimes it needs somebody willing to put people on.

And I think we should all be asking ourselves whether we're doing enough of that.

With love and an ear to the undrgrnd,

Tunde Imann

Editor-in-Chief, Undrgrnd Paparazzi