From Wrapped to Unwrapped: Musicians Ditching Spotify

NEWS | HANGA / CRAFT

Written by Mila Van Der Plas (she/her) | @mila.vdp | News Editor

Music is a craft. A proper one. Not just strumming your flatmate’s out-of-tune guitar or humming into your phone at 2am, though that counts too. Musicians sculpt sound into emotion, crafting lyrics, melody, and production until something sticks. The work that goes into a song takes hours of dedication, but in the age of streaming, that art all too frequently reduces to a string of numbers on a dashboard and royalties that don't buy a coffee. The increasing number of users who departed Spotify in 2025 is the embodiment of that friction, and it makes artists and listeners realise what actually being worth listening to means. More and more people are finally starting to question it, and many are deciding they have had enough.

Spotify used to feel like the untouchable king. Affordable, easy, and perfect for students, commuters, or anyone who wanted to skip the headache of sketchy 2009 file downloads. It gave us Spotify Wrapped, It made playlists a form of identity and gave people bragging rights when they were in the top 0.01 percent of Phoebe Bridgers listeners. But right now the platform is under fire, and for good reason. People are calling it out for what it has become: a service that pays artists next to nothing, invests in shady ventures, and fills playlists with AI-generated filler music.

Money is the first issue. Spotify brags about paying out over US$10 billion to rights holders in 2024 (MarketWatch, 2024). That number sounds massive until you realise it gets sliced up between labels, publishers, distributors, and managers. The artist at the end of the chain might end up with enough to buy a small flat white, if they are lucky. Reports show Spotify pays about $3 per 1,000 streams, while Apple Music and Amazon pay closer to $6 to $9 (TechCrunch, 2025). A European survey found that seven out of ten musicians are unhappy with streaming payouts (Music Business Worldwide, 2025). Imagine putting months into an album only to make less than what you spend on Uber Eats during exam season. It is no wonder so many artists are pulling their tracks.

But the outrage is not just about money. The bigger story is about ethics. Spotify’s CEO, Daniel Ek, has invested millions into Helsing, a company making AI technology for military surveillance and combat systems. Yes, the guy making money off your sad-girl autumn playlist is also investing in warfare tech. For artists who see their songs as tools for connection, healing, or resistance, that feels like a betrayal. Australian composer David Bridie, who pulled his catalogue, said it bluntly: “I do not want my songs … to enrich people who fund weapons” (The Guardian, 2025). He is not alone. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, Massive Attack, and many others have taken the same stand. Several top New Zealand musicians have removed their music from Spotify, citing ethical concerns and anger over the company's model. Specifically, Tiki Taane said he was removing his music from Spotify, labeling the website "a business that is in opposition to everything that I sing." He wrote a song titled "Bye Bye Spotify" to drive the point home (RNZ, 2025). Additionally, several Aotearoa musicians united to establish the organization Boycott Spotify NZ as a means to take part in the global boycott of Spotify, calling on other artists and fans to reconsider supporting the platform (NZ Musician.)

These moves are part of a larger trend where artists globally are reconsidering their engagement with streaming services, pushing for more equitable pay and moral business conduct. It is like finding out your favourite vegan café secretly invests in a steakhouse. It makes you question what you are supporting every time you press play.

Then there is AI. Spotify has been caught filling playlists with tracks made by “ghost artists” fake names or algorithm-assisted music that can be produced quickly and cheaply. These tracks are designed to pad out playlists without costing much in royalties (Harpers Magazine, 2025). For real musicians, it is like being shoved off stage by a robot with GarageBand. On top of that, Spotify introduced a rule that songs with fewer than 1,000 annual streams will not get paid at all (Disc Makers, 2025). Smaller artists not only earn crumbs, but sometimes they do not even get a plate. The message is clear: Spotify is more interested in infinite content than in music as craft.

Leaving Spotify, though, is not as easy as cancelling an app. For students, it has become part of daily life. Our playlists are basically diaries. We have songs attached to first-year flat parties, library all-nighters, breakups, and road trips. We send links in group chats, stalk each other’s Wrapped, and low-key judge people for what they listen to. Quitting feels like breaking up with a long-term partner. But staying means cosigning a system that underpays artists, funnels money into military tech, and replaces human creativity with AI soundscapes.

So what are the alternatives? Luckily, there are plenty. Bandcamp is a favourite among indie musicians because it lets fans pay them directly, and on its monthly Bandcamp Fridays the platform does not even take a cut. Apple Music and Tidal offer higher payouts per stream. Vinyl, Cassettes and CD’s are booming, which proves people are craving something more tangible and human. And of course, nothing beats going to gigs, buying a t-shirt at the merch desk, and actually showing up for the artists you love.

The bigger question is not just about where you stream, but about what music means to you. Campaigns like Broken Record have been pushing for years for fairer streaming models. They have suggested “user-centric payouts,” which would mean your subscription goes only to the artists you actually listen to, instead of being dumped into a giant pool dominated by megastars like Drake. It is a simple change that could completely shift the relationship between artists and listeners.

Music has always been more than background noise. Long before pottery wheels or printing presses, humans were banging rocks together and calling it rhythm. It is raw, emotional, and deeply human. Treating it as disposable filler undermines everything that makes it powerful. When artists and listeners leave Spotify, it is not just a boycott. It is a reminder that music deserves respect and that musicians deserve to live off the craft they spend their lives honing.

For students, the choice feels small but it is not meaningless. Every stream, every subscription, every ticket, every piece of merch is a vote for the kind of world you want music to exist in. Do you want it cheap, endless, and soulless? Or do you want it made by humans who care, who stay up too late writing lyrics, and who create songs that feel like they were written just for you?

So maybe the next time you open Spotify and scroll past another AI-generated “study vibes” playlist, you will think about where your money is going. Do you want your heartbreak playlist helping bankroll drone surveillance, or do you want to back the humans who pour their hearts into their craft? The answer might be as simple as where you decide to click play.