On May 21, 2026, Spotify announced that it is releasing an upcoming feature that will allow users to use generative AI to create covers and remixes of their favorite songs. Although Spotify has not revealed the user interface or an exhaustive list of details for how the feature will work, the general idea is that users, for example, could take a Taylor Swift song and remix it to sound like a metal band cover. Unlike asking AI to create an entirely new song, the original creative work here has already been done by a human.
If artist discomfort with generative AI is rooted in something deeper than vibes or efficiency, where does the discomfort come from?
But what happens when we hand the interpretation of that work over to a machine instead of another human musician?
There are a lot of things I want to credit Spotify for. Unlike another generative AI music tool, Suno, which finds itself in a lawsuit over alleged copyright infringement and plagiarism, Spotify is making an intentional effort to ensure artists consent to having their songs remixed, as well as receive fair compensation. Also, bluntly, this sounds fun; it’s a way for audiences to engage with their favorite artists with the artists’ permission.
Despite the positives, it still begs the question: are there any costs or downsides to encouraging the use of generative AI to create music, even remixes and covers?
To think through that question, I kept coming back to a conversation I had with my co-worker Cyrus. Cyrus grew up in Austin, a city that has been shaped by its musicians. In 1991, Austin declared itself the “Live Music Capital of the World.” While the title is debatable, what is less up for argument is that Austin has historically produced and attracted artists like Willie Nelson, Janis Joplin, and Stevie Ray Vaughan.
Cyrus was influenced by the artists that shaped the city that shaped him. Although he is now a full-time software engineer, he played his first show on 6th Street in high school. As a multi-instrumentalist, you can hear Vaughan’s influence particularly clearly in his musical style.
Although he attended a private Christian school growing up, Cyrus is not a Christian. Recently, we were having a conversation at work about how generative AI is gaining prominence. I asked him his opinion as both someone who understands LLMs and music at an expert level. Despite seeing the value in AI-assisted tools, particularly around music production, he expressed a general discomfort about using AI to generate songs from scratch. When I asked him the source of his discomfort, he could not concretely pinpoint where it came from.
While he mentioned the purity of art and some thoughts about cutting corners and outsourcing it to efficiency, he eventually came to say, “I don’t really know, it just feels gross.” It brought up a larger question for me: if artist discomfort with generative AI is rooted in something deeper than vibes or efficiency, where does the discomfort come from?
When generative AI first became prominent, I immediately discounted it because everything that it produced was cheesy. While I thought this was a strong argument against using it, a few years later, generative AI has grown in its ability to create genuinely beautiful music.
If AI-generated music can be beautiful, emotionally moving, and indistinguishable from something a human could create, does human creativity actually matter?
One of the most interesting stories around this point was told by my friend and fellow writer and musician, Jay Bragg. Recently, Jay’s dad reached out to him and shared a song that was so emotionally moving to him that he wanted it played at his funeral. After Jay listened to the song, he realized that it was completely AI-generated. When he shared that with his dad, his dad pushed back and shared that he discovered the song on America’s Got Talent. However, when Jay investigated that, he found that the episode was also entirely AI-generated.
Jay expected the revelation to change his dad’s mind, but it didn’t. He still wants the song played at his funeral. Jay shared with me that he had always assumed human-created art was the only kind of art that could be emotionally moving, but this experience disproved that internal conclusion for him.
So, if AI-generated music can be beautiful, emotionally moving, and indistinguishable from something a human could create, does human creativity actually matter?
I think most of us, regardless of our worldview, would say, “Yes!” But some worldviews tend to hold up better than others.
There are many compelling reasons why and how humans create. We can explain the processes that create music. We can explain why certain frequencies and sounds evoke different emotions. There are many evolutionary, neurological, cultural, and social explanations. But explaining how humans create art is not the same as why human-created art has unique and inherent value.
Whenever a human writes a song or creates something, they are exercising a capacity that reflects the God whose image they bear.
If music’s value comes subjectively from the “ear of the beholder,” then an AI-generated song would be just as valuable. If music’s value comes from the quality of a product, then again, AI-generated music is no different than a human creation.
Secular worldviews that prioritize individual perspective or economic efficiency struggle to provide a compelling reason that human-created art matters or differs from AI-generated art.
I believe, for the first time in a long time, the Christian Church has a unique opportunity to fill a major gap by caring for, protecting, and valuing the output of human artists.
Christianity offers a powerful explanation for the gross feeling that my friend Cyrus had, and what many artists are currently feeling. The Judeo-Christian worldview claims that humans are made in the image of God, by God, and therefore have inherent dignity and value. Not only that, but God created humans to reflect Him in their actions, including through their creativity.
Theologians refer to this as the Imago Dei.
At the beginning of the Bible, we encounter a God who is a Creator. In fact, creating is one of the first things we learn about who God is. After God creates humanity, He not only gives them the ability to name the animals, but He calls them to cultivate, steward, and create within the creative playground of the Garden of Eden. When God creates, He calls it good, and then allows His image-bearers to mimic Him.
For artists, this may force the question: if my art can be replaced by AI, what makes me valuable?
To be clear, after the Fall, when sin enters the world, not every piece of human creation is inherently good in the same way that God’s creation is. I am not arguing that a machine cannot create things that are good or useful. But it does mean that there is something significant about who is creating, and not just the creator’s output. Whenever a human writes a song or creates something, they are exercising a capacity that reflects the God whose image they bear.
A Christian worldview does not allow one to only value art because of what it does to us. We must also care about who created it and what it tells us about them. Take the classic example of a child’s drawing. It may be objectively bad when judged purely as art, but parents will hang the drawing on the refrigerator for display. Why? Because the value of the drawing isn’t found in the quality of the artwork itself. It is found in the child who made it.
The creator changes the way that we understand the art and value it.
If the value of human creation is not, at least in part, found in humans, then there are not many arguments against using AI to generate the future of music. Our culture has spent generations praising artists for their ability to produce great work, but what happens when a machine can do those things faster, cheaper, and arguably better than we can?
On a larger scale, if human value is tied to what we can produce, then AI presents an existential issue for humanity beyond the arts. There is a day coming soon when AI may outperform humans in a multitude of ways. While there are certainly economic benefits and realities in which better technology has made our lives easier, if our value as humans is solely found in our productivity, the more capable AI becomes, the less valuable we become.
Elon Musk has gone on record speculating that the future economy may eventually allow humans to stop working altogether, leaving us primarily to pursue hobbies and recreational activities. This raises an important question—if work and productivity are no longer necessary, what gives human life value?
Christianity does not ground human value in the productivity of a person. Someone’s value does not increase based on their intelligence, talent, creativity or output—their value comes from the Creator who they image.
Perhaps this is where AI can actually be a blessing. As machines become more capable of accomplishing tasks, perhaps the illusion of our value being found in our output will be stripped away, and it will force us to reassess where our value comes from.
For artists, this may force the question: if my art can be replaced by AI, what makes me valuable? Christianity would say to the artist: you are valuable because you are made in God’s image, and your creativity matters because you were made to make.
We, as the people of God, will be faced with the question: will we still care who made the song?
The Church, for the first time in a long time, has an incredible opportunity to shape the arts. The people of God have the chance to support artists and value their art, even in a cultural moment where AI is trending toward being able to create even more impressive expressions of art than humans. The people of God can support human artists because we know that the person creating the art helps make the art valuable.
There are countless practical ways that we can do this. We can attend concerts and purchase merchandise instead of listening to the AI-generated version of a song or remix. We can commission the painting, purchase the book, hang the drawings in the church, and show up to the poetry slam even when it’s inconvenient.
The Church ultimately has the opportunity to answer the question, “What makes a human being valuable?” in a way that every artist and every human being longs to hear.
Spotify’s new feature may be giving us a glimpse into the future of music. AI will make good music, and it’s not going anywhere. It’s just getting started. But we, as the people of God, will be faced with the question: will we still care who made the song?
We have something to say in this cultural moment. The value of human creativity was never found in what was created. The value of human creativity was, is, and always will be found in the Creator whose image we bear.
