Artificial intelligence’s earliest relationship with music was intentionally unserious.
Synthetic covers of popular tracks, voice-swapped choruses, and novelty remixes were the first examples that circulated online as forms of digital amusement, with such content programmed to provoke laughter, curiosity, or disbelief rather than dependence.
Yet these early experiments thrived precisely because they felt temporary, with its resonance fleeting once you scroll past such content. At the time, AI was initially framed as something incapable of emotional depth, artistic intent, or even cultural context. It could try and imitate (as much as it could), but it couldn’t create — at least not in any way that mattered. But these days, that assumption no longer holds.
As generative technology evolved to new capabilities, AI eventually stopped operating as a sideshow and began functioning as infrastructure. Across places like the United States and Europe, numerous AI tools quickly embedded themselves as integral parts of various industries’ creative workflows, first operating as assistants, then soon as replacements.
Compositions, arrangements, vocal performances, and even branding could suddenly be generated in less than a minute by a singular prompt. As soon as platforms optimized for speed and volume absorbed such outputs, AI’s influence expanded beyond mere novelty and into competition. Like most technological shifts in music, those effects did not stay confined to the Western markets — it soon found its way across Asia, and even here in Southeast Asia.
In the Philippines alone, its presence has forced the local music scene to confront several questions that it was never given the proper time to answer: Who owns the music when no human performs it? Who profits when authorship is obscured? And what happens to a scene built on storytelling when replication becomes not just cheaper, but more accessible than creation?
Early Conversations, Missed Urgency
The OPM industry did not exactly enter this moment unaware. Over the past two years, artists, producers, and industry executives have repeatedly voiced concerns about AI’s implications — often in measured, but cautious terms. The prevailing tone was not panic, but a sense of wariness, given how AI was treated as an emerging ethical challenge, and something that would eventually require regulation once its capabilities became clearer.
This sentiment was evident during the 2023 Philippine Popular Music Festival (PPMF) panel discussion, where industry leaders acknowledged AI’s growing presence in music creation and distribution. Renowned producers such as Thyro Alfaro, Gino Cruz, and Marlon Banuevo previously talked to Billboard Philippines about the state of AI in the local scene back in 2023, noting its usefulness as a tool in the production process, while spotlighting its many pitfalls when it comes to the creative process.
Though even back then, Alfaro noted how the reception of AI’s presence in the industry was something dependent on how audiences consumed its content. “The listener doesn’t care who made it at the end of the day, as long as they’re enjoying the music,” he noted, with Banuevo adding, “Only a few care about the interest [in music] and planned obsolescence, because everything is disposable now. Hits don’t have longevity because there is always something next, yet sadly, people seldom care about what is next. In the end, consumers don’t care at all.”
At the time, the consensus noted that while subtle shifts were occurring, nothing had yet crossed into outright disruption. In retrospect, that framing underestimated the pace of technological acceleration. What the industry perceived as gradual evolution was, in reality, compound growth, because by the time the impact became visible — AI had already secured a foothold in the systems that determine what music gets heard.
Accessibility Over Innovation: The Real Catalyst
It should be worth noting that AI’s turning point was not based on artistic sophistication, but accessibility. Platforms like Suno and Muso reframed music creation as a low-friction activity, eliminating the need for instruments, studios, or even collaborators. For many of its users, the appeal was obvious: immediate output with a minimal amount of effort. While for platforms, the value proposition was even clearer –– allowing unlimited content generation without the overhead and strenuous efforts of human labor.
To no one’s surprise, user growth surged accordingly. What initially began as experimental tools quickly became mass-market platforms, fueled largely by non-musicians and fans. Though early backlash (and a string of lawsuits) from major labels may have suggested possible constraints, those pressures ultimately reshaped rather than restrained AI’s expansion. Licensing discussions, strategic partnerships, and quiet integrations between these major players in the industry and such platforms have allowed AI companies to reposition themselves as collaborators instead of adversaries.
This shift eventually marked a crucial inflection point for the scene. Once AI platforms aligned with industry power structures, resistance became fragmented. Such technology was no longer something the industry could simply reject, for eventually, it was something it had already begun to absorb.
From Tools to Talent: AI Enters the Charts
Given how much AI was beginning to integrate itself within the industry itself, the next phase was inevitable. AI ceased to function merely as a production aid and began presenting itself as the front-facing artist. Popular projects like The Velvet Sundown, a ’60s-inspired AI band, demonstrated how synthetic acts could eventually be engineered for algorithmic success, while garnering a massive amount of publicity and media exposure in the process (even racking up a peak amount of over a million monthly listeners).
Even on the Billboard charts, numerous AI acts like Breaking Rust have emerged as chart-breakers in the West, hitting No. 1 on Billboard’s Country Digital Song Sales chart in November 2025 with its song, “Walk My Walk.” Similarly, Xania Monet, an AI-generated R&B persona developed using Suno, debuted at No. 30 on Billboard’s Country Digital Song Sales chart and even hit #1 on the R&B Digital Song Sales chart.
The surprising success of such AI programs in music soon exposed a structural vulnerability, as these projects are optimized to draw from existing sonic templates, blending recognizable influences into outputs that feel familiar enough to engage listeners while remaining legally ambiguous.
Though labels like Universal Music Group and Warner Music Group will begin allowing AI platforms to legally have access to their catalog, the current ambiguity has become the industry’s central problem. When does influence become infringement if no human is consciously copying? The ongoing lawsuit between Jorja Smith and the viral R&B hit “I Run” underscores how ill-equipped current copyright frameworks are for generative systems trained on vast catalogs of existing work.
Compounding the issue is detectability — specifically the lack thereof. AI-generated music has reached a point where it often passes as human by default. For listeners, platforms, and even rights holders, distinguishing between organic creation and synthetic replication has become increasingly difficult.
The Philippine Market: Quiet Displacement Over Spectacle
Here in the Philippines, AI’s impact has been less dramatic but more insidious.
Notably, an AI-generated rock rendition of Cup of Joe’s hit song, “Pahina,” topped Spotify Philippines’ Viral Songs chart just a few months ago, exemplifying Filipino listeners’ quiet embrace of AI music. Rightfully, its appearance on the chart sparked a massive amount of discourse online, with initial reactions ranging from confusion to alarm. Unsurprisingly, its nature as a hot topic drew the attention of fans, artists, and even Cup of Joe themselves.
The issue was not that the cover existed, but that it competed — successfully — within the same ecosystem as the original artist. But even before the industry could fully respond (and properly take action), more AI-generated tracks began appearing across streaming platforms. By late November, AI-generated songs reportedly had made up 17% of Spotify Philippines’ Viral Songs chart, a statistic that would have seemed implausible just a year or two earlier.
Unlike Western markets, where AI acts are often overtly branded as “real artists,” the Philippine landscape has seen the proliferation of anonymous cover accounts. Profiles with vague names — such as Lo-Fi Town, Renegade Stories, EHST_J — regularly upload AI-generated covers at scale, often optimized for playlist placement and passive listening.
Though one may think it’s a harmless act, the most troubling aspect lies in the attribution of the proper and necessary credits. Despite covering existing songs, many of these uploads list the AI account as the primary rights holder. In effect, streaming revenue is redirected away from original creators and toward entities that neither wrote nor performed the work. In an industry where margins are already thin, this itself represents a significant economic threat.
“These AI-generated covers are being monetized without permission, and some have even found their way onto Spotify charts. Songwriters and producers are being robbed of income, while people are casually enjoying and enabling it,” says Underdog Music co-founder and artist, Martti Franca in conversation with Billboard Philippines.
As both an industry figure and an artist himself, Franca notes how AI’s ability to replicate existing bodies of work is indeed effective, but points out how it still never captures the very essence of human-generated music. “I think the reason AI covers are so effective is that they ride on beautifully written human compositions and simply apply a new genre filter on top of them. The irony of AI-generated music is that it has access to nearly all the music available online, yet text prompts are rarely written with decades’ worth of influence in mind — with this often leading to music that feels eerily bland,” he states.
“From a purely sonic perspective, AI has done an impressive job integrating human nuances into its output, such as white noise, off-beat drums, and imperfect vocal takes. And these days, people can hardly tell the difference. However, the actual composition often feels very one-dimensional, because it is.”
Artists Push Back—But With Limited Leverage
As AI’s footprint grows, so have calls for accountability. Local artists and executives have begun speaking out more forcefully, urging both audiences and institutions to recognize what is at stake. Many artists, fans, and casual listeners alike have already framed the issue not merely as a copyright concern, but as a cultural one — warning that unchecked AI risks hollowing out the very essence of Filipino music from within.
Yet the tools available to artists remain largely reactive. Takedown requests, legal challenges, and public appeals can address individual cases, but they do little to stem the overall tide. The burden of enforcement still falls disproportionately on creators, many of whom lack the resources to pursue prolonged legal action.
“I do not think the solution will come from a single source, as it has to involve everyone in the creation, distribution, and consumption of music,” notes Franca. “DSPs need to further develop their technology to properly identify and take down AI-generated music. The pro-rata payout system makes this especially dangerous, because when AI-generated songs flood platforms, the income of real artists is reduced across the board.”
Adding further, he states: “Record labels also have a responsibility to protect the intellectual property of their artists. Instead, many have entered licensing deals with AI platforms like Suno and Udio under the guise of protecting IP. In reality, these deals allow labels to continue profiting by feeding artist catalogs into large language models.”
Given that true protection requires structural change, artists must be able to assert control not just over their recordings, but over how their work is licensed, distributed, and used for training AI systems.Labels, distributors, rights organizations, and other related parties will need to establish clearer standards around consent and compensation. Because without such unified action, resistance risks becoming symbolic rather than effective.
A Cultural and Economic Crossroads
At its core, the debate around AI music is not about whether machines can make music — because it has been proven that they already can. The real question is what happens when music becomes infinitely reproducible without accountability. In markets like the Philippines, where music functions as both a significant aspect of our cultural expression and livelihood, that question carries particular urgency.
It’s no secret nor is it a surprise that AI-generated music will continue to expand its presence within the scene as the years go by. Platforms will continue to reward scale over context, but the industry’s challenge now is not to stop AI, but to define the conditions under which it operates. Because without any enforceable boundaries, the risk is not just artistic dilution, but economic displacement and cultural erosion.
As Franca points out: “If AI is going to be part of the future of music, it needs to exist alongside artists, not at their expense. Innovation should never come from stripping creators of their rights, credit, and livelihood. Protecting music means protecting the people who make it, and that responsibility belongs to all of us.”
“AI can exist in music. That is not the issue. The issue is that it exists without accountability and without an agreed set of ethics. The future of music should still be built on human voices, human stories, and human labor, not just what is scalable, efficient, or easy,” he concludes.
For now, vigilance remains the most practical defense. Staying informed, questioning what we consume, and demanding transparency from both platforms and labels may be the only ways to ensure that human creativity does not become collateral damage in the industry’s rush toward automation. Because as the line between creators and code grows increasingly indistinct, the industry’s response — or even the lack thereof — towards artificial intelligence is what will determine what kind of music ecosystem survives on the other side.