"Bad mood rising"

Music journalist Liz Pelly has in her book "Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist" gone under the hood. It's not a pretty sight. It's scorched-earth tactics taken to an unprecedented level. The book has been described as "the definitive investigation into Spotify, weaving interviews with incisive cultural criticism, and illuminating how streaming has reshaped music for listeners and artists alike." Over a hundred industry insiders, former employees, and musicians have been interviewed. Spotify has transformed music into mood. And this is not very surprising. We live in a world of real time artificial mood-tracking and health monitoring. The silliest job of all must be mood manager. I can't take the job description seriously. Your job is to run around the workplace and create and maintain a happy, positive, and productive atmosphere. Back to the terrible playlists. On the surface, the playlists are seemingly personalized. But, nobody asked you what you like. Instead, the playlists are created through passive algorithm-driven data. The terminal point is moody music without an originator. This has been made possible by users who pay with their money and personal data, and the artists and bands who provide the raw material powering it all. Well, we brought this on ourselves. Actually, there was a time when you sat in the driver's seat. In fact, it was part of the listening experience to choose. Shorter attention span has changed how we listen to music. Not from A to Z as the artist intended, but randomly and abruptly. Maybe I'm old, bitter and technophobic. Nevertheless, I'm perfectly right. I'm not in a good mood. No moody playlist in the world can change that. Death comes as a liberator, eventually. Until then, I suffer. Not in silence - as is proper - but actively, consistently and loudly. To paraphrase the old CCR-hit: "I see the bad mood a-rising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightning. I see bad times today."