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What have we actually done to artist development?
You could say things were better before. In reality, they were just different, and it’s worth understanding why.
Developing an artist takes time, money, and above all, it has a high chance of failing. But when you want big returns, you take big risks. That’s how the industry operated for decades. You would spot potential that was still a bit rough, an identity that wasn’t fully formed yet, and think: this could work, let’s go for it. That was instinct. That was taste.
Today, everything has to move fast. Artists are expected to develop themselves, build their audience through social media, shape their identity… and once they reach a first level of success, they’re offered a deal. But why would they do that? They’ve already done the hardest part on their own, often without resources. In short, they’ve done someone else’s job for free. So why should they join a structure that didn’t take the initial risk, and will now capture the value of their work?
It might sound like a superficial observation. We all know the industry is constantly evolving. But what matters is understanding how, and with what consequences, while trying to adapt.
The end of intuition
The first phenomenon behind this shift is that creative industries are no longer driven by intuition, they’ve become rational. Above all, they are businesses. Like any business, they calculate risk and return, and to do that, they rely on data and numbers.
It feels counterintuitive, art and music are meant to be felt. But intuition is fallible. Data, on the other hand, is seen as reliable. Researchers like David Hesmondhalgh and Keith Negus, who study cultural and creative industries, have long described this tension between intuition and rationalization. Today, that balance has clearly tipped toward full rationalization.
In an environment where value increasingly lies in catalogs and safe assets, as shown by the rise of catalog acquisitions (Hipgnosis, and deals involving Sony Music Entertainment or Universal Music Group), investing in uncertainty becomes harder and harder to justify : Why invest in an uncertain artist when you can buy a guaranteed success?
The over-adaptation of artists
But beyond eroding the very soul of creative professions, turning everyone into analysts, or worse, bankers, we are also losing diversity, discovery and to the extent, quality. Music is speeding up so that it can “work” within the data. It’s the same logic as sensationalist content on social media: the more intense it is, the better it performs. BPMs go up, trends get recycled faster, styles are quickly appropriated, and it all turns into a race for attention.
The point is not to blame artists.
What we are witnessing is a phenomenon of over-adaptation to an ecosystem that is no longer validated by experts, but by an audience driven by immediacy. It is, quite simply, the attention economy applied to music. We no longer create to build attention. We create to capture it. We no longer sign artists for what they could become, but for what they are already proving.
And yet, paradoxically, artists have never had so many opportunities to exist. They can create from home, release instantly, reach niche audiences, and build a following without intermediaries. It’s an incredible opportunity, a revolution, even, and one that artists must learn to navigate if they want to succeed. But it comes at a cost. We no longer just expect artists to be good. We expect them to be strategic. They need to know what to post, when to post, how to post. They need to understand formats, trends, virality mechanics, to become, in a way, their own content managers. They need to produce quickly, consistently, and efficiently.
And they do. Artists are adapting. They are adapting very well. But the more they align with a system driven by speed and visibility, the more creation itself is transformed. The decline of artist development doesn’t just reshape the industry, it directly impacts the music being made.
So, is it irreversible?
Not necessarily. But it requires rethinking the role of the industry, not by going backward (because saying “it was better before” doesn’t move us forward), but by adapting differently.
The first step is to bring back the field. Putting A&Rs back into clubs, into local scenes, outside of offices, outside of screens. Because that’s where music lives. That’s where culture actually exists. It means going out and finding artists beyond what shows up on a phone screen.
The second step is to continue building, and legitimizing, early-stage discovery spaces. Hybrid formats where artists can be identified for more than their social media performance. Open calls, scouting programs, residencies, development structures. These already exist, but they need to be sustained, supported, and taken seriously.
The third step is to rethink risk. Right now, it rests almost entirely on artists. Tomorrow, it could be shared. Through more flexible models: co-development, partnerships with independent structures, gradual investment strategies. And beyond labels, there are other actors that can no longer be ignored. Media platforms, collectives, local scenes, they are no longer just amplifiers. They have become incubators.
Integrating them into development strategies, supporting them, structuring them, is also a way to rebuild a healthier ecosystem, and push back against the dictatorship of data. Artist development never truly disappears.
The question is not whether it still exists. The question is: who is willing to take responsibility for it, and bring back a sense of authenticity to the music industry.
credits photos : Envato Elements