Wrapped Machine

Spotify’s annual Wrapped campaign kicked off earlier this month and so have the Instagram story shares of everyone you’ve ever followed after meeting in a club bathroom. Spotify Wrapped, which started off as a concept project by an intern in 2019, has become one of the music industry’s biggest annual media campaigns. Who would have thought an intern would be capable of creating one of the most infamous (and profitable) marketing grifts of all time, while never being appropriately paid or recognized for their work? But let’s admit it - we love seeing our friends’ top bops of the year (or finding out who needs a wellness check) it always does feel a little bit dirty. 

Wrapped or unraveling? @blacklightblueblood

Anyone familiar with Spotify’s artist royalty model won’t be surprised by the origin story of Wrapped. Paying the people who raise your profit margins substantially? “Never heard of her!” - Spotify exec, probably.

Executive greed killing the vibe in the music business is a tale as old as time, one that has been hammered home through movies from Empire Records, to Josie and the Pussycats. So, it’s not surprising that artists and fans alike have a love/hate relationship with Wrapped and modern music-sharing platforms in general. But was it always this way?

Online music sharing, and the communities that ensued, were born back when the internet felt more like the Wild West. Back when most tracks were still downloaded illegally and came with a bonus Trojan virus.  MySpace blew the doors open for sharing music across the web and the hunt was half the fun. Instead of burning CDs for friends and crushes we were sharing playlists on our page for the world to see. 

Hype Machine walked so Spotify could run

Blogs and online music aggregators quickly followed. Tracks could be shared and downloaded for free on Hype Machine and Discobelle. Bedroom producers could become internet sensations overnight using nothing more than some pirated software. The era, circa 2006 to 2011, allowed a variety of niche artists and genres to blow up. Mostly notably, it made way for the aptly-named dance music genre and cultural phenomenon “Bloghouse.” 


Lina Abascal, who in 2021 authored the unofficial memoir of this era, “Never Be Alone Again: How Bloghouse United the Internet and the Dancefloor,” told Paper Magazine “listeners turned into bloggers themselves,” merely because “they loved the music and wanted to share it.” Unlike Instagram, MySpace wasn’t about likes and follows. It allowed people to find and foster communities purely based on their music preferences.

Manifesting my wish on Christmas Day 2021 with Lina Abascal’s book

In many ways, this era paved the way for the rise of streaming platforms like Spotify. Now, albums can be launched, shared, and promoted to billions within minutes - no downloading required. However, the personalization and community ties feel like a relic of the past. Spotify and its counterparts keep users chained to the algorithm of the records and genres they already have in their library. This may drive trends and generate profits, however, it is pretty much the antithesis of building a genuine platform around music discovery.


Now, don’t get it twisted. Capitalist critiques aside, I, and many others, love streaming platforms and Spotify Wrapped. Even though we may not be sharing tracks and building communities like we once did, the campaign still allows us to share a piece of ourselves and the music we love with the world. 

There’s more of an infrastructure now. The remix process goes through management and labels a lot more. The whole scene didn’t even have an infrastructure in those years. Everything was a lot more direct. But sometimes business was sloppy, contracts were overlooked. There are pros to how things are handled now, but I think it’s just cool to remember how it was done when were laying the groundwork for how it is now.”

- A-Trak, one of the DJs heavyweights of of the bloghouse-era in an interview with Billboard.

Bloghouse-era “It Girl” Cory Kennedy captured by The Cobrasnake dripping in MySpace swag

The community aspect may be forever altered, but not necessarily lost. Fans and artists can still create and share tracks across platforms faster than ever before; Friends can easily collaborate on playlists to share their favourite music with each other or across the web. Are we posting thought pieces around each track? Maybe not, but posting a song you’re digging on your Instagram story could be considered a form of microblogging. Could a “microbloghouse” resurgence be that far behind?  

Although we may be lining the pockets of Execs with every play, we can at least take solace in knowing that we remain in control of our own narrative as well as who we are when it comes to sharing our musical taste and interests with the world. 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t yearn for the “RAWeR” days of the internet, and the recent popularity of Instagram accounts like @indiesleaze prove I’m not alone in my nostalgia. Bloghouse-themed parties, DJ sets, and playlists are beginning to re-emerge. A cultural re-shift is brewing that is oozing with bloghouse energy - as more artists take a leap into Web3, maybe the online music sharing renaissance is closer than it appears.

Spotify Playlist by Lina Abascal for Indie Sleaze

Previous
Previous

Sentient Muppet Factory: Beth Frey’s Dreamlike Art in the Age of AI