Not long ago, a YouTube creator adding popular music to a video was flirting with disaster. The fragmented web of music rights (split among labels, publishers, PROs, and others) meant a single song could have multiple owners, each with veto power. Using music in a video risked copyright strikes or lost monetization, a value gap that stifled creators. The result? Many settled for stock music or went without: a lose-lose for artists and creators alike.

Enter Epidemic Sound, a Swedish startup that dared to rewrite the rules. Founded in 2009, Epidemic Sound bet early on a simple idea: make music licensing frictionless. Instead of the traditional model of fractional ownership and royalty collection, Epidemic would own 100% of the music it offered. This meant persuading artists to sell their tracks outright (no PROs, no backend royalties) in exchange for upfront payment and profit-sharing on the platform. In turn, Epidemic could offer content creators an all-you-can-use subscription with one-stop clearance for every track. No negotiations, no separate sync fees – one subscription covers all rights worldwide, forever. For YouTubers, TikTokers, brands, and filmmakers, it was a game-changer: finally, they could add music to videos without fear, and keep their ad revenue.

The demand proved enormous. Today, videos featuring Epidemic’s music attract over 3 billion views per day on YouTube and TikTok alone – roughly the equivalent of 20 Super Bowls worth of eyeballs daily. Around 70% of the world’s top 300 YouTube channels use Epidemic’s library. In total, the company’s catalog of 50,000 tracks and 200,000 sound effects is heard “over 3 billion times a day around the globe”. These staggering numbers underscore a simple truth: there was pent-up demand for easy, legal access to music in the creator economy. By eliminating the friction in licensing, Epidemic Sound effectively soundtracks the internet, from vlogs and podcasts to ads and video games.

How does Epidemic’s model work behind the scenes? In contrast to legacy record deals where artists keep some rights (and hope for trickle-down royalties), Epidemic signs artists to a non-exclusive, work-for-hire model. Artists compose and produce tracks which Epidemic buys outright, typically paying between $1,800 to $8,000 upfront per track. This payment isn’t a loan or advance; it’s theirs to keep, even if the song never gets a single stream. On top of that, Epidemic shares streaming revenue: any royalties the company collects from platforms like Spotify or Apple Music are split 50/50 with the artist in perpetuity. There’s also a “Soundtrack Bonus”: a yearly bonus pool (35 million SEK in 2025, or about $3.5M) divided among Epidemic artists based on how often their tracks are used by creators on the platform. As a result, the average Epidemic artist earned over $60,000 last year, with top earners exceeding $200,000, a healthy income in an industry where the median artist struggles to make a fraction of that.

Crucially, Epidemic’s artists must opt out of traditional collection societies like ASCAP/BMI or their international equivalents. Many PROs and rights agencies have strict rules that all an affiliated artist’s works must be under their umbrella, incompatible with Epidemic’s “all rights included” licensing. This requirement ruffled feathers in the music establishment. Early on, critics balked at Epidemic’s approach, even dubbing its roster “fake artists” or “ghost artists” because they often released music under aliases and lacked a traditional fan presence. And indeed, to serve the needs of video creators, many Epidemic composers produce instrumental, mood-oriented tracks (think ambient backgrounds, lo-fi beats, uplifting corporate scores) rather than radio hits. These tracks populate Spotify’s chill-out and focus playlists (sometimes under pseudonyms with AI-generated avatars), which led some observers to cry foul about a secret takeover of streaming by “faceless” music. But the musicians behind them are very real; Epidemic simply allowed them the freedom to use stage names for different styles. An artist might release EDM under one moniker and acoustic folk under another, to avoid confusing listeners. What outsiders saw as a “fake artist” epidemic was, in part, the result of skilled creators wearing multiple musical hats.

Playlist-driven listening is another trend that Epidemic both benefited from and helped accelerate. As streaming shifted from album-centric listening to algorithmic and mood-based playlists, demand grew for “functional music”; tracks suited for specific activities like studying, sleeping, or relaxing. Major streaming platforms found that listeners of “Deep Focus” or “Peaceful Piano” playlists weren’t necessarily attached to famous artist names; they just wanted the right vibe. Epidemic’s catalog of high-quality, rights-clear instrumentals was a perfect fit. By 2017, industry insiders noticed an abundance of unfamiliar artists in popular Spotify playlists, often with only a handful of tracks and minimal online presence. Investigations (notably by journalist Liz Pelly in Mood Machine) revealed that many of these tracks came from production libraries and companies like Epidemic Sound. Spotify denied any program to favor “fake artists,” but the effect was undeniable: a lot of streamed music was now being created for playlists rather than discovered via playlists. In a way, streaming had birthed a new creative category somewhere between stock music and pop music.

To be sure, not everyone was thrilled. Traditional stakeholders (PROs, labels, publishers) saw Epidemic as challenging the status quo. By bypassing the royalty pipeline and doing direct deals with platforms, did Epidemic undercut payouts for everyone else? (Podcast host Ari Herstand raised this concern: if Epidemic accepted a lower Spotify rate in exchange for playlist placement, independent artists outside the system might lose out.) Epidemic’s CEO Oscar Höglund insists there was no secret trade-off, just that their music performed well and earned its slots. Regardless, the company’s billion-dollar valuation and explosive growth prove that supply met demand. They identified a huge unmet need (affordable, hassle-free music for the digital world) and filled it. In doing so, Epidemic has validated a new model of music distribution, one that prioritizes ease of use, scale, and predictability. As Höglund put it, “our unique music distribution model [meets] the increasing demand for high-quality music in the creator economy”, a demand so strong that it propelled 29% revenue growth in 2024 and attracted partnerships with stars like Johnny Marr and Jordin Sparks to their roster.

Epidemic Sound’s success holds some key lessons for the music industry:

• Frictionless = Future-Proof. Time and again, entertainment has shown that the lowest-friction experience wins. Spotify overtook piracy by making 30 million songs available at a click, easier than rifling through Limewire or BitTorrent. Netflix eclipsed DVDs by eliminating the physical hassle. Epidemic applied the same principle to licensing: make using music easier than infringing it. Creators flocked to the path of least resistance. Any future model for music (whether for listeners, creators, or fans) must offer a UX so seamless that alternatives feel clunky. Convenience is king, and people will embrace innovation that removes barriers.

• Content is Contextual. The rise of “background” or “functional” music underscores that context often trumps artist branding. Millions now consume music as a complement to other activities, and they’ll choose the perfect mood over a famous name if it better fits their need. This doesn’t mean artist identity is dead, but it does mean new opportunities for music crafted for specific contexts. Smart artists and platforms are tapping into this by creating alter-egos and tailored content for workouts, meditation, gaming, and more. The medium (a playlist or video) influences the message (the music) more than ever.

• Artists Will Embrace New Models, If They’re Fair. Early skeptics thought no serious musician would sell their copyrights for a flat fee. Yet thousands have lined up to work with Epidemic; the company accepts only about 0.16% of those who apply, essentially the cream of the crop. Why are creators interested? Because the deal delivers value: meaningful upfront money, a share of streaming forever, exposure to billions of listeners, and even equity in the company for long-term contributors. In an era when streaming pays fractions of a cent and label contracts lock up rights for decades, a model that pays $2–8k per song and doesn’t ask for exclusivity can look attractive. The takeaway is that artists are open to non-traditional arrangements if they feel like a true partnership. As Epidemic’s approach evolves (they now even onboard legendary musicians for special collaborations), it’s clear that creators will follow the money (

Epidemic proved one thing beyond doubt: when you annihilate licensing friction, creators stampede toward the door you just opened. The startup’s bet on full ownership and one-click clearance unlocked billions of daily plays across the internet. Yet the flip side of that success is clear: artists swapped ownership for convenience. Epidemic’s all rights included model requires musicians to sign over their masters and even leave their PROs, giving the company full rights to each track in perpetuity. In exchange, creators get upfront checks and hassle-free global usage, but surrender the long-tail upside of rights they’d traditionally hold.

That trade-off sets up the industry’s defining tension. On one side is instant, global clearance: a single subscription unlocking music worldwide. On the other hand, there is artistic sovereignty: retaining control and royalties over one’s work. Today, you can have one or the other, but not both at once:

The obvious follow-up question is: can we keep Epidemic-level ease without forcing artists to give up the keys? Even songwriter advocacy groups have warned against the buy-out route, calling on creators to “refrain from signing any agreement which results in giving up all their economic rights forever”. The challenge now is finding a model that delivers frictionless licensing and lets artists still own their work.

Not surprisingly, a wave of prototypes is quietly attacking that exact gap, inspired, ironically, by Epidemic’s success. A few early experiments include:

• Smart-split plug‑ins: New tools that bake collaborator splits directly into an audio file or smart contract. Each time a video uses the song, the underlying rails (often blockchain-based) automatically pay out the pre-set percentages to writers, producers, and session players. This promises YouTube-level simplicity for creators, while ensuring every contributor gets paid in real time: no middlemen or spreadsheets required.

• Creator Passes: Imagine artists selling a limited batch of lifetime licenses to their catalog up front. Buy a pass, and you’re permanently whitelisted to use that artist’s music in your videos – no additional contracts or fees, ever. It’s a twist on the NFT concept: the pass functions as a perpetual sync license. A few indie musicians have toyed with this “all-you-can-use” licensing idea, essentially offering fans and creators a one-click license that never expires (sometimes managed via Content ID allowlisting in the background). For this artist have to retain full ownership

• Fan-funded presales: Before a track is released, an artist can crowdfund its production costs by issuing all ownership onchain, including the right for a specific set of content creators to use any of the IP in their content. Platforms like Royal have tested this with major artists, Nas, for example, who let fans buy tokens tied to streaming royalties. A newer crop of tools, including Superfan, is bringing this model to independent artists: project financing, which could include one-click access for creators, and full ownership retained by the artist. Creators don’t just license the track: they help bring it into the world.

None of these experiments has reached the plug-and-play polish of Epidemic’s platform yet. They’re rough around the edges, often requiring tech-savvy users or niche marketplaces. But each is trying to marry the one-click promise with artist sovereignty. They hint at a future where licensing a song might be as easy as buying an NFT or clicking “allow”, all while the artist who made it keeps control and keeps earning.

If the first social-video era was about erasing barriers for creators, the next era will be about erasing the need for artists to choose between control and convenience. The stakes are high: whoever cracks that equation (delivering Epidemic’s drag-and-drop simplicity plus built-in ownership for musicians) will score perhaps the most coveted prize in music tech. They’ll have found the model that all sides willingly adopt, where creators get instant soundtracks, audiences get more music, and artists don’t feel like they’re sacrificing their future for exposure today.

This tension matters because it speaks to the core of a fair and vibrant music ecosystem. We’ve heard what the internet sounds like when licensing is easy; it unleashed new genres of background scores and powered countless viral videos. The coming question is what it will sound like when licensing is easy and artists still call the shots. A solution that makes using a track as simple as Epidemic did – but with every artist and collaborator automatically benefiting, could transform not just internet content, but the music industry itself. In the end, it’s a vision of friction eliminated on all sides. Creators get music seamlessly, fans get more choice, and artists get to have their cake and eat it too, enjoying both the reach of frictionless distribution and the rewards of owning their work. That’s the next chapter waiting to be written, and the entire creator economy is listening.

Disclaimer: The author’s perspective is informed by recent developments in the music-tech space, including insights from Epidemic Sound’s journey. “Superfan” is mentioned as an illustrative example of emerging platforms exploring new models (with which the author is involved). This article is intended to provoke thought on industry trends, not to promote any single service explicitly.

Citations:

• Ari Herstand, “Epidemic Sound Removes Rights and Royalties From the Equation.”
  Ari’s Take (podcast transcript). Accessed June 2025.
  https://aristake.com/oscar-hoglund

• Epidemic Sound, “Epidemic Sound Publishes Its 2024 Annual Report and Sustainability Report.”
  Press release, 8 April 2025.
  https://corporate.epidemicsound.com/press-and-media/press-releases/2025/epidemic-sound-publishes-its-2024-annual-report-and-sustainability-report/

• Dr. Runcie, LinkedIn post: “Culture is less of a spectator sport (and why that matters for music).”
  Posted February 2025.
  https://www.linkedin.com/posts/druncie_culture-is-less-of-a-spectator-sport-and-activity-7328826592044937219-C0G_/

• Epidemic Sound, “How We Work With Artists.”
  Company explainer. Accessed June 2025.
  https://corporate.epidemicsound.com/about-us/how-we-work-with-artists

• First Floor, “Liz Pelly Wrote a Book About Spotify and the ‘Systemic Grift’ of Streaming.”
  Substack article, July 2023.
  https://firstfloor.substack.com/p/liz-pelly-wrote-a-book-about-spotify

Not long ago, a YouTube creator adding popular music to a video was flirting with disaster. The fragmented web of music rights (split among labels, publishers, PROs, and others) meant a single song could have multiple owners, each with veto power. Using music in a video risked copyright strikes or lost monetization, a value gap that stifled creators. The result? Many settled for stock music or went without: a lose-lose for artists and creators alike.

Enter Epidemic Sound, a Swedish startup that dared to rewrite the rules. Founded in 2009, Epidemic Sound bet early on a simple idea: make music licensing frictionless. Instead of the traditional model of fractional ownership and royalty collection, Epidemic would own 100% of the music it offered. This meant persuading artists to sell their tracks outright (no PROs, no backend royalties) in exchange for upfront payment and profit-sharing on the platform. In turn, Epidemic could offer content creators an all-you-can-use subscription with one-stop clearance for every track. No negotiations, no separate sync fees – one subscription covers all rights worldwide, forever. For YouTubers, TikTokers, brands, and filmmakers, it was a game-changer: finally, they could add music to videos without fear, and keep their ad revenue.

The demand proved enormous. Today, videos featuring Epidemic’s music attract over 3 billion views per day on YouTube and TikTok alone – roughly the equivalent of 20 Super Bowls worth of eyeballs daily. Around 70% of the world’s top 300 YouTube channels use Epidemic’s library. In total, the company’s catalog of 50,000 tracks and 200,000 sound effects is heard “over 3 billion times a day around the globe”. These staggering numbers underscore a simple truth: there was pent-up demand for easy, legal access to music in the creator economy. By eliminating the friction in licensing, Epidemic Sound effectively soundtracks the internet, from vlogs and podcasts to ads and video games.

How does Epidemic’s model work behind the scenes? In contrast to legacy record deals where artists keep some rights (and hope for trickle-down royalties), Epidemic signs artists to a non-exclusive, work-for-hire model. Artists compose and produce tracks which Epidemic buys outright, typically paying between $1,800 to $8,000 upfront per track. This payment isn’t a loan or advance; it’s theirs to keep, even if the song never gets a single stream. On top of that, Epidemic shares streaming revenue: any royalties the company collects from platforms like Spotify or Apple Music are split 50/50 with the artist in perpetuity. There’s also a “Soundtrack Bonus”: a yearly bonus pool (35 million SEK in 2025, or about $3.5M) divided among Epidemic artists based on how often their tracks are used by creators on the platform. As a result, the average Epidemic artist earned over $60,000 last year, with top earners exceeding $200,000, a healthy income in an industry where the median artist struggles to make a fraction of that.

Crucially, Epidemic’s artists must opt out of traditional collection societies like ASCAP/BMI or their international equivalents. Many PROs and rights agencies have strict rules that all an affiliated artist’s works must be under their umbrella, incompatible with Epidemic’s “all rights included” licensing. This requirement ruffled feathers in the music establishment. Early on, critics balked at Epidemic’s approach, even dubbing its roster “fake artists” or “ghost artists” because they often released music under aliases and lacked a traditional fan presence. And indeed, to serve the needs of video creators, many Epidemic composers produce instrumental, mood-oriented tracks (think ambient backgrounds, lo-fi beats, uplifting corporate scores) rather than radio hits. These tracks populate Spotify’s chill-out and focus playlists (sometimes under pseudonyms with AI-generated avatars), which led some observers to cry foul about a secret takeover of streaming by “faceless” music. But the musicians behind them are very real; Epidemic simply allowed them the freedom to use stage names for different styles. An artist might release EDM under one moniker and acoustic folk under another, to avoid confusing listeners. What outsiders saw as a “fake artist” epidemic was, in part, the result of skilled creators wearing multiple musical hats.

Playlist-driven listening is another trend that Epidemic both benefited from and helped accelerate. As streaming shifted from album-centric listening to algorithmic and mood-based playlists, demand grew for “functional music”; tracks suited for specific activities like studying, sleeping, or relaxing. Major streaming platforms found that listeners of “Deep Focus” or “Peaceful Piano” playlists weren’t necessarily attached to famous artist names; they just wanted the right vibe. Epidemic’s catalog of high-quality, rights-clear instrumentals was a perfect fit. By 2017, industry insiders noticed an abundance of unfamiliar artists in popular Spotify playlists, often with only a handful of tracks and minimal online presence. Investigations (notably by journalist Liz Pelly in Mood Machine) revealed that many of these tracks came from production libraries and companies like Epidemic Sound. Spotify denied any program to favor “fake artists,” but the effect was undeniable: a lot of streamed music was now being created for playlists rather than discovered via playlists. In a way, streaming had birthed a new creative category somewhere between stock music and pop music.

To be sure, not everyone was thrilled. Traditional stakeholders (PROs, labels, publishers) saw Epidemic as challenging the status quo. By bypassing the royalty pipeline and doing direct deals with platforms, did Epidemic undercut payouts for everyone else? (Podcast host Ari Herstand raised this concern: if Epidemic accepted a lower Spotify rate in exchange for playlist placement, independent artists outside the system might lose out.) Epidemic’s CEO Oscar Höglund insists there was no secret trade-off, just that their music performed well and earned its slots. Regardless, the company’s billion-dollar valuation and explosive growth prove that supply met demand. They identified a huge unmet need (affordable, hassle-free music for the digital world) and filled it. In doing so, Epidemic has validated a new model of music distribution, one that prioritizes ease of use, scale, and predictability. As Höglund put it, “our unique music distribution model [meets] the increasing demand for high-quality music in the creator economy”, a demand so strong that it propelled 29% revenue growth in 2024 and attracted partnerships with stars like Johnny Marr and Jordin Sparks to their roster.

Epidemic Sound’s success holds some key lessons for the music industry:

• Frictionless = Future-Proof. Time and again, entertainment has shown that the lowest-friction experience wins. Spotify overtook piracy by making 30 million songs available at a click, easier than rifling through Limewire or BitTorrent. Netflix eclipsed DVDs by eliminating the physical hassle. Epidemic applied the same principle to licensing: make using music easier than infringing it. Creators flocked to the path of least resistance. Any future model for music (whether for listeners, creators, or fans) must offer a UX so seamless that alternatives feel clunky. Convenience is king, and people will embrace innovation that removes barriers.

• Content is Contextual. The rise of “background” or “functional” music underscores that context often trumps artist branding. Millions now consume music as a complement to other activities, and they’ll choose the perfect mood over a famous name if it better fits their need. This doesn’t mean artist identity is dead, but it does mean new opportunities for music crafted for specific contexts. Smart artists and platforms are tapping into this by creating alter-egos and tailored content for workouts, meditation, gaming, and more. The medium (a playlist or video) influences the message (the music) more than ever.

• Artists Will Embrace New Models, If They’re Fair. Early skeptics thought no serious musician would sell their copyrights for a flat fee. Yet thousands have lined up to work with Epidemic; the company accepts only about 0.16% of those who apply, essentially the cream of the crop. Why are creators interested? Because the deal delivers value: meaningful upfront money, a share of streaming forever, exposure to billions of listeners, and even equity in the company for long-term contributors. In an era when streaming pays fractions of a cent and label contracts lock up rights for decades, a model that pays $2–8k per song and doesn’t ask for exclusivity can look attractive. The takeaway is that artists are open to non-traditional arrangements if they feel like a true partnership. As Epidemic’s approach evolves (they now even onboard legendary musicians for special collaborations), it’s clear that creators will follow the money (

Epidemic proved one thing beyond doubt: when you annihilate licensing friction, creators stampede toward the door you just opened. The startup’s bet on full ownership and one-click clearance unlocked billions of daily plays across the internet. Yet the flip side of that success is clear: artists swapped ownership for convenience. Epidemic’s all rights included model requires musicians to sign over their masters and even leave their PROs, giving the company full rights to each track in perpetuity. In exchange, creators get upfront checks and hassle-free global usage, but surrender the long-tail upside of rights they’d traditionally hold.

That trade-off sets up the industry’s defining tension. On one side is instant, global clearance: a single subscription unlocking music worldwide. On the other hand, there is artistic sovereignty: retaining control and royalties over one’s work. Today, you can have one or the other, but not both at once:

The obvious follow-up question is: can we keep Epidemic-level ease without forcing artists to give up the keys? Even songwriter advocacy groups have warned against the buy-out route, calling on creators to “refrain from signing any agreement which results in giving up all their economic rights forever”. The challenge now is finding a model that delivers frictionless licensing and lets artists still own their work.

Not surprisingly, a wave of prototypes is quietly attacking that exact gap, inspired, ironically, by Epidemic’s success. A few early experiments include:

• Smart-split plug‑ins: New tools that bake collaborator splits directly into an audio file or smart contract. Each time a video uses the song, the underlying rails (often blockchain-based) automatically pay out the pre-set percentages to writers, producers, and session players. This promises YouTube-level simplicity for creators, while ensuring every contributor gets paid in real time: no middlemen or spreadsheets required.

• Creator Passes: Imagine artists selling a limited batch of lifetime licenses to their catalog up front. Buy a pass, and you’re permanently whitelisted to use that artist’s music in your videos – no additional contracts or fees, ever. It’s a twist on the NFT concept: the pass functions as a perpetual sync license. A few indie musicians have toyed with this “all-you-can-use” licensing idea, essentially offering fans and creators a one-click license that never expires (sometimes managed via Content ID allowlisting in the background). For this artist have to retain full ownership

• Fan-funded presales: Before a track is released, an artist can crowdfund its production costs by issuing all ownership onchain, including the right for a specific set of content creators to use any of the IP in their content. Platforms like Royal have tested this with major artists, Nas, for example, who let fans buy tokens tied to streaming royalties. A newer crop of tools, including Superfan, is bringing this model to independent artists: project financing, which could include one-click access for creators, and full ownership retained by the artist. Creators don’t just license the track: they help bring it into the world.

None of these experiments has reached the plug-and-play polish of Epidemic’s platform yet. They’re rough around the edges, often requiring tech-savvy users or niche marketplaces. But each is trying to marry the one-click promise with artist sovereignty. They hint at a future where licensing a song might be as easy as buying an NFT or clicking “allow”, all while the artist who made it keeps control and keeps earning.

If the first social-video era was about erasing barriers for creators, the next era will be about erasing the need for artists to choose between control and convenience. The stakes are high: whoever cracks that equation (delivering Epidemic’s drag-and-drop simplicity plus built-in ownership for musicians) will score perhaps the most coveted prize in music tech. They’ll have found the model that all sides willingly adopt, where creators get instant soundtracks, audiences get more music, and artists don’t feel like they’re sacrificing their future for exposure today.

This tension matters because it speaks to the core of a fair and vibrant music ecosystem. We’ve heard what the internet sounds like when licensing is easy; it unleashed new genres of background scores and powered countless viral videos. The coming question is what it will sound like when licensing is easy and artists still call the shots. A solution that makes using a track as simple as Epidemic did – but with every artist and collaborator automatically benefiting, could transform not just internet content, but the music industry itself. In the end, it’s a vision of friction eliminated on all sides. Creators get music seamlessly, fans get more choice, and artists get to have their cake and eat it too, enjoying both the reach of frictionless distribution and the rewards of owning their work. That’s the next chapter waiting to be written, and the entire creator economy is listening.

Disclaimer: The author’s perspective is informed by recent developments in the music-tech space, including insights from Epidemic Sound’s journey. “Superfan” is mentioned as an illustrative example of emerging platforms exploring new models (with which the author is involved). This article is intended to provoke thought on industry trends, not to promote any single service explicitly.

Citations:

• Ari Herstand, “Epidemic Sound Removes Rights and Royalties From the Equation.”
  Ari’s Take (podcast transcript). Accessed June 2025.
  https://aristake.com/oscar-hoglund

• Epidemic Sound, “Epidemic Sound Publishes Its 2024 Annual Report and Sustainability Report.”
  Press release, 8 April 2025.
  https://corporate.epidemicsound.com/press-and-media/press-releases/2025/epidemic-sound-publishes-its-2024-annual-report-and-sustainability-report/

• Dr. Runcie, LinkedIn post: “Culture is less of a spectator sport (and why that matters for music).”
  Posted February 2025.
  https://www.linkedin.com/posts/druncie_culture-is-less-of-a-spectator-sport-and-activity-7328826592044937219-C0G_/

• Epidemic Sound, “How We Work With Artists.”
  Company explainer. Accessed June 2025.
  https://corporate.epidemicsound.com/about-us/how-we-work-with-artists

• First Floor, “Liz Pelly Wrote a Book About Spotify and the ‘Systemic Grift’ of Streaming.”
  Substack article, July 2023.
  https://firstfloor.substack.com/p/liz-pelly-wrote-a-book-about-spotify