Streaming, Politics and the Illusion of Visibility

Advertisement

We need to talk about Spotify.

Not just as a platform. Not just as an app. But as a symbol of what the music industry has become: algorithmic… and deeply disconnected from the people who actually create music and the true punk underground scene, which is usually regarded as poor and having to settle for breadcrumbs, “because that’s just punk and if you deservingly want more money, you’re a sellout or greedy”. Fvck that, we wanna make ends meet without settling for a soul-crashing corporate job.

As Hekate Heads, we’ve always believed music is a living thing. Something human. Something political simply by existing. And lately, it feels impossible to ignore what streaming platforms represent.

Spotify was sold to artists as liberation. No labels deciding who deserves to be heard. Upload your music and the world will listen. But we all know that promise turned into something else.

Today, artists are expected to fight endlessly for visibility inside systems designed not for creativity, but for engagement metrics. We are told to post more, promote more, optimize more, analyze data more, while earning less than ever from the music itself. Instead of platforms building fair ecosystems, artists are asked to become marketers, fvckn content creators, social media managers and algorithm specialists just to survive. That takes away the focus from art and expression becomes shallower. 

Moreover, when platforms align themselves with political or institutional powers that many artists fundamentally disagree with, it becomes even harder to pretend these systems are neutral. Music platforms are not passive tools. They make choices. They support systems. They shape culture. And Spotify briefly ran ads about ICE and the CEO, Daniel Ek, has made significant investments in a company that develops AI-powered military defense technology.

The lack of alternatives is horrifying, and I say that as an Argentinian emigrated woman in Spain who has seen what lack of alternatives does to a government (Fvck Milei, fvck his labor reform and fvck everyone who is in the business of selling glaciers and Nature for mining and for their own fvckn pockets).

Other platforms exist. Some pay artists more fairly. Some respect creative independence. But they lack reach, discovery tools, or audience scale. Artists are forced into a paradox: stay where visibility exists but fairness doesn’t, or move somewhere ethical where nobody will find you.

Why should that choice belong to artists alone? Why are musicians expected to carry the weight of fixing an entire industry?

Imagine if platforms collaborated instead of competing purely for dominance. ¿Se imaginan un mundo sin abogados? Imagine shared discovery systems, interoperable audiences, unified artist support. Imagine technology serving culture rather than extracting from it.

Because this isn’t only about music.

We see the same pattern everywhere: in feminist movements, in civil rights struggles, in grassroots communities. Division weakens voices. Isolation makes people easier to ignore. But collective action changes the volume of the conversation.

Platforms, like people, are stronger when they stand together.

Artists shouldn’t have to shout individually into algorithmic voids. We don’t believe musicians are the problem or should be judged by being on Spotify. We don’t believe audiences are the problem either. The system is. Todo este maldito sistema está mal.

Music deserves ecosystems built on solidarity. Cooperation, not competition. Visibility. 

But hey, what do I know? Solo soy una chica. In the meantime, we will keep making music authentically, loudly, and without pretending the industry is something it’s not.

Con amor,
niñita.