When diving into the world of music, it’s easy to get swept up in the metrics—streams, algorithms, and marketing strategies. But for artists navigating the complex landscape of a career, there is a far more fundamental question that often gets overlooked: What is music actually for?
This question, deceptively simple, shifts the entire perspective on what an artist creates and how they build a sustainable career. It’s about moving beyond selling products and starting to explore utility.
One illuminating thought that redefined this approach for me was realizing that music is, at its core, a vicarious experience. We associate the word vicarious with experiencing life through another person—reading novels or watching films about worlds we will never inhabit ourselves. Music operates on a similar level, but it offers something more profound.
Music doesn’t just allow us to hear someone else’s story; it grants us access to someone else’s emotional world. It creates an emotional space that allows listeners to momentarily inhabit landscapes of hope, grief, or memory, even if those experiences are entirely fictional. It expands the boundaries of our own lives in ways that words often fail to capture.
The true magic lies in the relationship between the creator and the audience. As instrumental composers, we build the sonic world—the setting, the mood, the emotional framework. But there is no protagonist telling us what happened; there is no explicit narrative or dialogue.
Instead of providing a story, music invites the listener to complete the work. One person might hear lingering hope while another feels deep sorrow, and yet both are engaging with the same composition in their own unique emotional context. Our memories and our current lived experiences become woven into the melody, meaning the recording itself is dynamic.
This realization has profound implications for the music business. If the utility of music is to create these rich emotional experiences, then the focus should shift away from simply tracking streams or chasing ephemeral algorithms. The business decisions must flow directly from the art itself.
“The business exists because the experience exists. Not the other way around,” one might argue. This fundamental truth suggests that focusing on how music serves humanity—creating these shared emotional journeys—is far more powerful than focusing solely on commercial metrics.
By understanding that artists are not merely selling songs or albums, but rather crafting opportunities for people to experience life in richer ways, the path toward building a fulfilling and enduring career becomes clearer. The real value isn’t found in the distribution channels; it is found in the emotional resonance created when a listener steps inside the world you have built.
Credit: Hypebot
