With AI now worming its way into nearly every facet of modern life—from your inbox to your love life—it’s getting harder and harder to tell where the humans end and the robots begin. At this point, we’re all just one uncanny valley away from accidentally marrying a chatbot.
If you’re like me, you’ve probably been fooled at least once. For me, it was a podcast. Smooth delivery, confident tone, and then bam—rifle pronounced “rhiff-ell.” Like a Southern grandpa met a malfunctioning GPS. That little glitch yanked me out of my multitasking trance and made me realize: “Wait a minute… that’s not a person. That’s a voice made of code and vibes.”
But that was just the beginning of my (downward) spiral.
Later, I stumbled across a band described as alternative/indie rock with a 70s psychedelic and folk rock vibe—think Americana, but engineered. One track stopped me in my tracks. Not because it was good. It wasn’t. It was just… familiar. Like someone had taken every band I’ve ever half-liked, blended them in a Vitamix, and poured the result over beige carpeting. Smooth. Bland. Weirdly nostalgic. A sonic beige buffet.
Meet Velvet Sundown, the AI-generated band that’s currently climbing Spotify like it’s training for the algorithmic Olympics. Their debut album, Floating on Echoes, dropped on June 5 and instantly started racking up plays—no broken guitars, no tour bus breakdowns, no drama over creative direction or who gets the last slice of greenroom pizza.
Their sound? A heady blend of CSN & Y (more Y than CSN), Bad Company, maybe some CCR if you squint—and all of it sounding like it was recorded in a virtual desert, with the sun high above, baking everything below like a golden-hued broiler. Then layer in some modern indie moodiness à la The National, and you’ve got a pretty convincing musical mirage.
So, if you’re wondering what the future of music sounds like, it’s here—and it’s dreamy, weirdly well-mixed, a little soulless, oddly addictive and vaguely familiar in I can’t quite put my finger on it sort of way.
And here’s the kicker: Their single Dust on the Wind—no, not in the wind, on it, because that’s legally distinct, probably—hit #1 on Spotify’s Viral 50 in Britain, Norway, and Sweden. Three countries known for their chill vibes and willingness to embrace music made by sentient MacBooks.
By early July, Velvet Sundown had over a million monthly streams and counting. All without ever once having to argue over drum mic placement or what to name the tour.
To their credit, they came clean. According to their Spotify bio, the music is indeed made with artificial intelligence, though there’s a human or two behind the curtain to sprinkle in some soul—or at least make sure the rhiff-ells are properly riffled. They describe the project as “an ongoing artistic provocation,” which is artspeak for “we’re messing with your head, but in a thoughtful way.”
After dropping their debut album Floating on Echoes on June 5, Velvet Sundown apparently decided “sleep is for humans” and followed it up with Dust and Silence a mere 15 days later, on June 20. And because nothing says “machine efficiency” like churning out entire discographies faster than you can say “Spotify royalties,” their third album, Paper Sun Rebellion, is scheduled to drop Monday, July 14.
Three albums in just over a month? That’s not a release schedule—it’s a data dump. Most human bands can barely agree on lunch, let alone write, record, and release 30+ tracks before their drummer quits. (Unless you’re Guided By Voices, but that’s a whole other cut-out witch… and if you didn’t get that reference, you clearly haven’t listened to enough GBV. Fix that.)
Makes you wonder—did someone forget to program the concept of a double album? Or did the AI just look at George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass and think, “Triple album? Bet.” (Fun fact: Harrison was the first solo artist to drop a triple album—but not the first overall. That honor goes to the Woodstock soundtrack, because of course the hippies did it first.)
In conclusion: yes, robots make music now. Personally, I was expecting our first AI band to sound more like Kraftwerk—cold, glitchy, and German. Instead, we got faux-folk with desert vibes and algorithmic Americana. Go figure.
15 Most Disastrous Music Festivals in History
Here are some of the most disastrous music festivals in history, many of which proved unacceptably arduous for attendees, but a handful of others that unfortunately turned tragic. You might remember many of these instances — others you may not know about yet. Keep reading to find out.
Gallery Credit: Philip Trapp
