“We don't make music for financial gain,” says James Stuteley of Yon Loader, Carb on Carb, and Papaiti Records. For him, the value of making music isn’t monetary – it's cultural, interpersonal and artistic. “Spotify pollutes that cultural value, erodes the personal element and taints the fan experience.”

He’s part of a group of New Zealand musicians who pulled their music from Spotify, the world’s most popular streaming service, last week. The group also includes Recitals, Soda Boyz, Synthetic Children, First Move, Flogging A Dead One Horse Town, Fouler, Fruit Juice Parade, Sports Dreams, shannengeorgiapetersen, Khaki Department, Take Hold, and Lilith. The bands updated their fans through social media with a series of explanatory slides and collectively prepared a formal statement. “When it comes down to it,” says Stuteley, “we refuse to be part of a system that shows both disregard for human life and the value of art”. In their actions and reasons, they join a legion of international heavyweights including Deerhoof, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, Xiu Xiu, and Joanna Newsom.

Musicians are reacting to news that Spotify’s billionaire chief executive Daniel Ek invested over NZ$1 billion into Helsing, a startup specializing in AI systems for military drones and warfare, through his investment firm this year. Ek has been involved in Helsing since 2021 and became chairman following the investment in June. Later that month US indie rock band Deerhoof quit, saying, “We don’t want our music killing people. We don’t want our success being tied to AI battle tech”. Then in July Australian band King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, who had 1.5 million monthly Spotify listeners, pulled their entire 27 album catalog. Since then scattered international news articles have reported on a “growing exodus” of “fleeing” musicians, though it's a tiny proportion of the 11 million or so with music on Spotify.

Discontent with Spotify has brewed since its launch in 2008, beginning with artists taking issue with low or non-existent compensation (there’s a minimum threshold of 1,000 streams for tracks to be eligible for royalty payments, which are estimated to be US$0.003 to US$0.005 per stream). In 2022 Neil Young led his own boycott against Spotify because he didn't want his music on a platform that allowed Joe Rogan to spread misinformation about Covid-19 vaccines. When Rogan’s podcast was also distributed on other platforms including Apple, YouTube, and Amazon in 2024, Young returned his music to Spotify, saying he couldn’t sustain his opposition. Earlier this year the viral rise of AI generated music on Spotify sparked a new wave of criticism, here and abroad. 

“There's always been an undercurrent of dissatisfaction with Spotify, but really it was the military investment stuff that pushed it over the edge for most of us,” says Stuteley. He says the conversation began when Tharushi Bowatte, trumpeter of Recitals and drummer of Fruit Juice Parade, started asking other Papaiti Records musicians how they were feeling about it all. “It turned out we had all reached a similar point where we were done with it, and it snowballed from there.”

Josh Finegan, drummer of Recitals, says that Spotify has become a “real lightning rod” for  ethical quandaries and protracted conversations that are taking place in the indie music scene around viability and sustainability. The question is always about how to “do this thing that we're very passionate about, but we're existing under capitalism?” The follow-up question is “how streaming is or isn't going to be a part of that”.

What are the musicians giving up?

For small artists, income from Spotify is “pretty negligible,” says Stuteley. Much more money is made by playing live shows, selling merch, and Bandcamp downloads – not that it’s a livable income. 

“Making money for music would be a fabulous thing,” says Finegan. A Recitals song, Angelpoise, went viral on TikTok earlier this year, which led to its popularity on Spotify and a halo effect on the rest of their music. But it's been a “challenging” and “confronting” experience, not least because, “we're yet to see any money really”. He says it was difficult to understand how the statistics could equate to next to nothing for the band. Turns out “viral hits are not career making hits,” and, “if a song goes viral on TikTok or Instagram, you're not quitting your day job”.

Finegan says he receives “a couple of hundred here and there” by way of royalties. In the past the vast majority have come from Spotify streams with Apple Music contributing 5% or less. Other streaming services are “completely insignificant”. For Finegan there’s a small blessing in not making much money from music or Spotify – at least he isn’t relying on it, and so is able to boycott. The band’s label, Flying Nun, “backed us,” he says.

What indie musicians are giving up could instead be summed up by that dirty word exposure. “Essentially you're making it inconvenient for the majority of the New Zealand audience to listen to your music, as well as foregoing opportunities around playlists,” says Stuteley. He says it’s hard enough to get people listening, so giving that up can feel hard – especially if it feels like “everyone else is endorsing it by staying”. Still, over time he has gotten “more cynical” about the dubious value of placements on playlists translating into fans. “You can get a bunch of plays on one song, but it doesn't mean anyone's gonna turn up to your show or keep listening to your music after it drops off the playlist”.

Through the popularity of Angelpoise Finegan noticed that many listeners had a connection to that one song, but not to Recitals as an artist. On Spotify, people tend to consume music through curated or algorithmic playlists instead of closely following particular artists, habits encouraged by the design of the app. He thinks many of those listeners may not even notice that Angelpoise is gone. It will simply be substituted with another similar sounding song. “How do you – or do you even want to – engage with that as an artist?” he ponders. Still, “a lot of people do rely on Spotify as their main source of music, and it's kind of like pulling the plug”.

What is the alternative?

Stuteley says his music is “everywhere else” and always has been. The boycotting artists are directing fans to one particular place – Bandcamp. Like Spotify, Bandcamp was founded in the US in 2008. When music is uploaded there, its owner can set the price for downloads, allow users to pay more, and also sell merch. Bandcamp takes 10-15% commissions. On Bandcamp Fridays, commissions are waived. It’s been touted as “Indie Musicians’ Best (and Most Profitable) Friend”. Stuteley has been “pleasantly surprised” that when the boycott was announced, Carb on Carb’s Instagram page received lots of comments and messages saying, “I've recently moved as well.” The boycott has had its own halo effect too – Stuteley knows of two bands that joined after the initial announcement.

On the other hand, Recitals have received messages asking why their music isn’t on Spotify and asking if they can “put it back on, please”. Message-by-message they have explained the cause. Finegan says that their “core” fans – the ones that come to shows, buy merch and really connect with the band – “will go where we are”. As for a bigger group of more casual listeners that make up the biggest number of their fan base, he isn’t sure. 

The musicians aren’t under the impression that they will be able to change or topple a global mammoth. Power and size here is mismatched, and it's not often that David defeats Goliath. Instead they’re determined not to support David’s weapons. The power they do have is in determining where and how their music lives in the world.