To Stream or not to Stream? NOT!

Hold Up... Bring Paying Musicians Back

Sanibonani, molweni nonke. Ngiyanibingelela ngegama likaJesu Krestu, my divine Creator.

Before I carry on, it must be mentioned that the title of this blog is—and will always be—referencing Freakum Dress by Beyoncé Knowles-Carter.

Yes, I know the actual reference is “To be, or not to be, that is the question” from Shakespeare.

But in this house… we are always referencing Freakum Dress.

If you get that, then you and I are already on the same page.

Now.

I do not fully know what I want to say in this blog besides vent a little. This week, I was chatting with a friend who asked how my sales were going. He told me he had been streaming my music and sharing it with friends. Immediately, I felt caught between two emotions.

First, gratitude. Real gratitude. Because someone took the time to listen and share my work.

Second, discomfort. Because the reality is that streaming is simply not working for most artists, especially the small and unknown ones.

So there I was, caught in this strange moment of appreciation and responsibility. Someone is trying their best to support me, and yet I feel like I am letting them down because the system itself is broken.

Get me out of this capitalist hellhole.

As the week progressed, I began thinking more about the space we as recording artists, composers, and musicians currently occupy. Many of us writing music for radio or streaming genres are finding it increasingly difficult to navigate the streaming ecosystem. I am starting to notice conversations shifting back toward older models of music circulation. As someone recently put it rather bluntly:

“I play, you pay.”

Streaming once sold us a dream.

The dream was simple: more access, more opportunity, more freedom for musicians to share their work with the world. But I am beginning to wonder if the opposite has happened.

Throughout my life, I have been surrounded by extraordinarily talented musicians in every city I have lived in. And yet the one consistent reality I have observed is that musicians cannot depend on streaming for almost anything it promised.

Not for meaningful engagement. Not for sustainable audience building. And certainly not for making a living.

Part of the issue may lie in the very openness streaming celebrated.

Anyone can upload music.

On the surface, that sounds noble.

But in practice, it also means that there is little structure around how artistic labor is valued or compensated. Quality becomes difficult to measure, and the economics become even harder to sustain.

And so here lies the dissonance. On one hand, I appreciate what platforms like Spotify and others attempted to do: expand access and allow artists to share their music widely. On the other hand, it is becoming increasingly clear that they have failed artists in many ways.

What makes this tension even stranger is that I exist on both sides of the equation. I am both a consumer of music and a producer of it. As a consumer, I have removed most of my paid streaming subscriptions from my phone. I am doing my best to go back to relying on radio and/or free streaming, overwhelmed by adverts. It feels less like listening to music and more like punishment for refusing to keep paying into the system.

And yet my own music still lives on these platforms for many reasons—collaboration being one of them.

But I will be honest with you.

I am tired, y’all.

Sick and tired.

I have spoken with musicians who have been in this industry far longer than I have. Some say, “You just have to learn the game and play it.” Others acknowledge that the game has changed dramatically and that the previous models, while imperfect, offered more stability.

And then there are those who simply say: “Just wait until AI fully enters the room.”

Through all of these conversations, one thought keeps returning to me.

The artist is continually asked to adapt, adjust, and produce… while the value of the artist’s labor continues to shrink.

As someone who thinks deeply about these things, I am left with a question.

Where do you sit in this conversation?

Are you primarily a consumer, or are you a creator?

And what do you think the path forward looks like?

Do we return to older models of physical copies, radio play, and direct support?

Or do we continue with streaming and simply demand better compensation structures?

I genuinely do not have the answer.

But perhaps asking the question is better than blindly conforming to structures that evidently affect the very people they are meant to support.

All love,

Dr. Nkululeko Zungu