
A while back, an AI-generated band got big. Big enough that most people didn’t even realize it wasn’t “real.” That fact alone still rattles me — not because I’m against AI in music (I’m not), but because it proved how easily process can be hidden. Some artists will quietly use AI and never admit it. Others will proudly announce it and get ignored. It makes you wonder — in 2025, does process matter more than quality, or the other way around?
That question popped up again for me when Facebook’s algorithm dropped something new in my lap: a band called Father of Peace.
From what I’ve gathered, Father of Peace is an indie rock band with possible Israeli roots, a striking mix of sounds, and a visual style that’s impossible to scroll past. The singer’s hair alone says “see me”, but the music holds up. They remind me of System of a Down meets Ben Folds — each track feels distinct but part of the same whole, like chapters of one book.
I’m not going to pretend I know their whole story. Maybe they’re real. Maybe they’re AI. Either way, the songs work. And that’s the point: in 2025, you could be listening to a brilliant, fully human band… or a brilliant, fully artificial one… and never know for sure.
The Broken Model
The music industry was broken before AI showed up. Labels were slow, albums took years, and the whole thing depended on a handful of gatekeepers. Now it’s just broken in different ways — streaming platforms treat music like disposable background noise, algorithms push safe sameness, and artists are expected to be their own marketing departments.
Yes, a Beyoncé can drop a flat, artistically empty record like Cowboy Carter and still rack up massive sales — because she’s Beyoncé. For everyone else, the grind is relentless and the rewards uncertain.
If I Were in a Band Now
If I were running a band today, I wouldn’t play by the old rules. I’d treat it the way I run my Music Hub: constant creation, constant connection. No “vanish for two years and then drop an album.” The band would be a living feed.
Here’s the playbook:
- Release Constantly – Demos, live takes, alternate mixes. Let the audience see the process, not just the final polish.
- Engage Directly – Not just posting the same promo on every platform, but talking to listeners, showing behind-the-scenes, and letting them in on the joke.
- Have a Dedicated Social Media Producer & Documentarian – Someone whose job is to record clips of rehearsals, studio sessions, and everyday band life so there’s always fresh, authentic content ready to share.
- Build Albums from the Data – Track which songs resonate most, then use that information to craft a final release people already love.
- Make Live Shows Count Twice – Professionally record concerts and release them cheap on your site and on YouTube. Give people a reason to relive the experience and share it.
- Use Covers Strategically – Mix in well-produced covers that reflect your influences. Let them buoy your original material, showcase range, and spark discovery.
- Use AI as a Filter, Not a Replacement – AI can sift through the flood of new music and help surface what’s original and compelling. That could build an artist-centered counter-Spotify — a space where discovery actually works.
- Archive the Journey – Every version of every song, from the first take to the final master, in one accessible place. Like Jimmy Eat World’s demo CDs or Tom Waits’ early tapes — but unfolding in real time.
It’s a bit like what Morrissey has done for decades — reissuing and repackaging songs with extra material — but in the streaming era, it could be done constantly instead of every few years. The hunt for new versions, bonus tracks, or a one-off live recording could become part of the fun.
Why It Matters
Artists today should be able to connect with their audience more directly than ever. But most don’t, because it’s exhausting to keep posting the same thing everywhere just to stay visible. The Music Hub is my answer to that problem: one place where everything lives, grows, and evolves.
It works for music, it works for writing, it works for any art form that thrives on iteration. The difference is in speed and openness. The traditional model asks you to hide the process and reveal the product. My model invites you to live in the process together.
If Father of Peace is AI, or part AI, maybe it doesn’t even matter — not if the music moves people. But for the human bands out there, the opportunity is clear: stop aiming for perfection in secret. Build in public. Keep creating. Let the work be alive.

Leave a comment