Part 2 of a series of who knows how many rants on AI I will have.
Let’s skip the philosophy and get specific.
Everyone wants to talk about whether AI can replicate “the human soul” or “genuine artistic expression.” That’s a nice conversation to have over coffee. But it’s not the conversation we need to be having.
The real question is: who’s losing work to AI right now? Not in some hypothetical future. Right now.
Here’s the list nobody wants to make.
The Middle Class of Music
There’s a whole ecosystem of working musicians you’ve never heard of. They’re not superstars. They’re not playing arenas. They’re making a living, or they were.
Production music libraries. You know that background track playing during a YouTube video? That upbeat corporate montage music? That “inspiring” bed under a commercial? Someone used to get paid to write that. Past tense.
AI can generate 50 variations of “uplifting corporate background music” in the time it takes to make coffee. The clients don’t care who wrote it. They never did. They cared that it was cheap, fast, and didn’t have complicated licensing.
Yeah, some sync agents and music supervisors are putting up resistance right now. They’re drawing lines, making statements about only working with human-created music. Good for them. I mean that sincerely.
But the cat’s out of the bag. It’s already starting. Many songwriters, even top-tier, well-known ones, are using AI for “ideas.” They’re not admitting it publicly, but it’s happening. A chord progression here, a melodic suggestion there. They’ll polish it, humanize it, make it their own. But the AI is in the room.
Once that door opens, it doesn’t close.
Commercial jingles and advertising music. Same story. Ad agencies need music that fits a brief and doesn’t cost much. AI does that now. No negotiations, no revisions, no personalities to manage.
Background scores for content. Podcasts, corporate videos, indie films, online courses. All of that needed music. A lot of composers made decent money filling that need. That market is evaporating.
These weren’t glamorous gigs. But they were real income. Mortgage payments. Health insurance. The kind of work that let musicians keep making music.
Session Musicians (Sort Of)
The top session players are still working. If you’re the guy who can nail a part in one take, who brings something special to the track, who has relationships with producers, you’re probably fine. For now.
But here’s what changed even before AI showed up: remote collaboration killed the need for local session players. Used to be, if you needed a string section in Nashville, you hired Nashville players. Now? You hire someone in Prague and get the files overnight.
AI just accelerates that trend. Why hire anyone when the software can generate a convincing string arrangement in minutes?
The session musician as it used to exist is already over. AI is just making it more obvious.
The Regional and Local Scene
Cover bands and wedding bands. Look, DJs already gutted this market years ago. Why pay five musicians when one guy with a laptop can keep people dancing?
But now that laptop doesn’t even need a guy. AI DJ services are already a thing. They read the room, adjust the vibe, take requests. Cheaper than a DJ, infinitely cheaper than a band.
Teaching gigs. YouTube already gutted this market. Why pay for lessons when you can watch thousands of free tutorials?
But now? AI tutors and lesson software are taking it further. They give you unlimited practice time, instant feedback, and a structured curriculum for $10 a month. They don’t cancel. They don’t show up late. They don’t have bad days.
The counterargument is that people want human interaction, mentorship, the personal touch. Sure. Some do. But most people just want to learn enough guitar to play “Wonderwall” at a party. An app can do that.
What This Actually Means
These aren’t theoretical scenarios. This is happening right now.
I’m not saying every one of these jobs disappears overnight. I’m saying the volume of work is shrinking, the rates are dropping, and the musicians who depended on this income are scrambling to figure out what’s next.
“Adapt” sounds easy when it’s not your rent check on the line.
The carriage makers adapted when cars came along. Some retrained, some found new industries, some thrived. But a lot of them just lost their livelihood and had to start over. That’s the part nobody likes to talk about.
No Solutions Here
I don’t have a tidy answer for how to fix this. I don’t have a roadmap for pivoting your career or a motivational speech about resilience.
What I do have is this: you can’t prepare for what you won’t acknowledge.
The first step is being honest about what’s at risk. Not the superstars. Not the artists with devoted fanbases. The working musicians in the middle. The ones nobody thinks about until they’re gone.
That’s the list nobody wants to make.
But somebody needed to.