Watch, listen, read—this is what most people use the internet for. They watch movies and TV shows, they listen to music, and read newspapers, magazines and books. When it comes to getting one’s entertainment fix, or educating oneself about this or that, these are good times to be alive. But sometimes things happen that make us wonder whether, perhaps, we have entrusted the internet giants, such as Apple, Amazon or Google, with too much power.
I love music, and it plays an important role in my life. Everyone’s taste in, or definition of, music is different. Chacun à son goût, as the French would say. However, if you were to ask my discerning ear, it would tell you that real music stopped being produced after 1995, for the most part anyway. Then again, it is not a specific song that puts us under a spell, but the sounds, tones and frequencies contained in it. As such, almost any sequence of sounds can be described as music to one’s ears (think of such magical words as “You’ve just won the lottery jackpot!”). I don’t know why, but when I hear that unique sound of the starship Enterprise as she swooshes through space—even though, strictly speaking, not one sound could be heard in a vacuum—it sort of puts me at ease.
In a distant past, people had to make music themselves or attend a special function at some palace to listen to music. But once we had mastered the technology allowing us to record and play back music, there was no more stopping us. The music industry had been born. After wax cylinders, shellac and vinyl records, magnetic tape and compact discs, we now enjoy our music in ones and zeros, digitally, downloaded or streamed from the big, puffy cloud in the internet sky. Gone are the days when you’d walk into a record store and buy a few records, tapes or CDs. Today, we listen to our music on our computers, tablets, smartphones or MP3 players. And the music we listen to, we purchase it from Apple’s iTunes or stream it, usually against a monthly fee, from Amazon or Spotify.
While iTunes continues to be the standard-bearer of all things music in the digital and internet age, Google, too, has been associated with music. Its YouTube service is not just for cat videos or other visual entertainment, but also, mostly, for finding and listening to music. If there is a song or album you like, you can go to Google Music Play and purchase it (just as you would on iTunes and several other online marketplaces). Buying, and then downloading, songs and entire albums from such an internet service is the modern-day equivalent of walking into a record store and buying a CD.
Think back, how did that work exactly? You bought a CD and took it home with you. You then placed the CD in your CD player and pressed PLAY. You could even make a copy, on an audio cassette, or, using your computer, burn a copy of the entire CD to a blank CD as a backup copy in case the original CD got damaged. Simple, wasn’t it?
Now, let’s take a look at the process today. You purchase an album on iTunes or Google Music Play. You download it to your computer or any other device so that you can listen to it even when you’re not connected to the internet. Just as you were able to play the CD you bought in any CD player at home or at a friend’s place, you can now play that album you purchased and downloaded on any device of your choice. Of course, most people stay within the native ecosystem in which they purchased their music. That is, they listen to it using the iTunes or Google Play app, for example. But they can still take their downloaded album and play it using a different software or application, because each song is an MP3 file, which is a universal format that allows for this kind of portability. If you want to go crazy, you can play music bought from Google Play Music in iTunes, or iTunes music in Google Music. Or you can take your entire music library and put it on some cloud server and stream it back to you whenever and wherever you want it.
Streaming, ah, yes. Streaming is what we all do nowadays—movies, TV, music… you name it. But streaming music also has its downsides, as more and more people are discovering and frequently complaining about. I gave the example above of uploading your music to a cloud server and streaming it back to you. A lot of people make use of that option. It is very convenient, because in this way you can play your music anywhere in the house or even when you are away on holiday. For a monthly or annual fee, you can thus store and access all your music on a remote server somewhere in the world. Throughout it all, that music remains your property. You can download it again, make additional backup copies or burn some songs to a CD, etc. But what about streaming music that you didn’t purchase, music that’s been curated for you by some anonymous service like Spotify or Apple Music?
Everyone uses a service like that, myself included. I was, in fact, one of the first adopters of Apple Music. It allowed me to explore new music, and I could even download for offline use any song I wanted—all for around $10 a month. But not long after, some scars started showing underneath that beautiful, supple skin. I noticed, for example, that suddenly some Apple Music songs in my playlist on my iPhone or iPod Touch had become greyed out and I couldn’t play them anymore. Once I had gone online, they were removed from my device completely without a trace. What happened?
It was not Apple’s fault. The ones who own the rights to music are the ones calling the shots. They decide whether a song or album is made available for purchase (iTunes, for instance, or a CD you can buy at a store) or for streaming (Apple Music, Spotify, etc.), or both (and, yes, there are many songs that you can only get through streaming and cannot purchase even if you wanted to). They’re also the ones who decide to pull a song or album off the market. Now, here’s a thing you must understand about the music business: It’s highly seasonal.
Say, I find an album of around 15 or 20 songs on iTunes (I’ll keep using that as an example to keep it simple) that I like, and I purchase it, for $12, for example. I now own it—I can download it, make a backup copy, play it on other devices and even on other services. A year later, I tell you about the album, and you want to buy it too. You go to iTunes, but the album isn’t there. The rightsholders have decided to pull the album, and you can no longer purchase it—not on iTunes, not on Google, not in any record store. The lesson learned? When you see an album you really want, buy and download it right away, because it may not be there a month or several months later.
It’s the same thing in streaming. Rightsholders distribute a song or album to be streamed via Apple Music, but what you, the user, don’t know is that the agreement between the rightsholder and Apple in this case is that this music is to be available only for twelve months. So, when my songs, which I had obtained through Apple Music (and not purchased through iTunes), suddenly disappeared, it wasn’t Apple’s fault, as I mentioned—it was the rightsholders who had removed those songs from the Apple Music inventory. Many streaming users on all the services out there have had similarly unpleasant surprises, and often complain about it too.
In that respect, streaming is always a bit risky. You just never know when some content gets removed. On Netflix, you may watch a show that spans six seasons, but as you finish watching season three, the show is removed from Netflix, at the behest of the rightsholders, and you’re stuck. This is why I have made it my mission to always own the content (books, songs, etc.) that I really care about—and own it in such a way that I can do with it as I please, such as making backup copies and storing and accessing my content in any number of ways and independently of whatever service I may have used to acquire it. I suppose most people, especially those who have already felt the nasty sting of streaming, do exactly the same thing.
However, Google seems to have different thoughts about this. In an e-mail sent out to users, Google has now specified that Google Play Music will be shut down permanently starting in October 2020. People will no longer be able to purchase music through Google, and all music content will be transferred to the new YouTube Music service and application. Any music you have purchased through Google Play Music before will be migrated to YouTube Music, and you will be able to listen to it there. But only when you are online. If you want to download the music you previously purchased for offline listening, you will now have to pay a monthly subscription fee to YouTube Music. It gets worse: You can download the music only into the YouTube Music application, but you cannot move that offline copy to your hard drive or to any other music (MP3) player or service. In other words, you will no longer have full ownership of that music you purchased!
Right now, for example, I can take a song purchased from Google, download it, upload that MP3 file to my iTunes music library on my iCloud, and then play it, online or offline, anywhere I want—on any Apple device or service, or any other third-party device or service, for that matter. After October, I will be able listen to that same song in YouTube Music, where it will be identified as one of my Purchases, and if I pay the monthly fee, I’ll be able to download that song for offline listening (but ONLY inside the YouTube Music app). But I won’t be able to make any backup copy or upload my purchased song to iTunes or any other music service anymore. I will no longer be the owner of the song I purchased; I will have been downgraded to a borrower, a lessee, and Google could remove, entirely and without prior warning, from my library, and from my access, that song I previously purchased. That is to say, Google will be in violation of a basic concept of contract law. When I purchased the song, I entered into a contract for the purchase of the song with Google. Now, though, years later, Google changes this contract unilaterally and retroactively. Retroactive changes to existing contracts, especially when made by only one party, are prohibited. No doubt Google will face its share of lawsuits after Google Music has been shut down. This—let’s be honest, dumb and stupid—move on Google’s part could very well prove to be its downfall, at least as far as the music side of its business operations is concerned.
Allow me to draw you a picture of what YouTube Music will mean to you and the music you purchased previously.
Last year, you bought a music CD at a record store in your area. You’ve been playing it since then on several CD players, and you have made backup copies.
Now, you receive a phone call from the record store:
“Due to our new company policy, you will have to return the CD you purchased from us last year, as well as any backup copies you may have made.”
“But I bought that CD fair and square!”
“I understand, and we’re truly sorry about the inconvenience.”
“So, what do you expect me to do now?”
“Well, sir, you return your CD and any backups to the store, and we will give you a new, reformatted CD. And for as long as our store remains in business, you will be able to come by our store and listen to your CD here whenever you want.”
“What? I need to be at the store to listen to my CD?”
“Yes, that’s right. The reformatted CD we give you in exchange for your existing CD, which you bought at our store, must remain on our premises.”
“But I purchased it, and I want to listen to it at home.”
“I understand, and we have a solution for that.”
“I’m listening.”
“We offer a special CD player. You can play all of your CDs on it, but the CDs from our store can only be played on this, our very own, proprietary CD player.”
“I see. So, I’ll need your player to keep listening to the CD I bought at your store, is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if I get your special CD player, I could get rid of my existing players, because your player will be compatible with all my CDs, including the ones I bought at your store, right?”
“Absolutely!”
“Okay, then, how do I go about obtaining that CD player of yours? How much is it?”
“Oh, sir, we don’t sell the player. You can only lease it.”
“So, how much?”
“Just $12 a month, sir.”
“Let me get this straight. Last year, I bought this CD at your store, it cost me $12.99, plus taxes. Now, if I want to keep listening to it at home, instead of having to run to your store and listen to it there, I have to pay another $12, every month, to lease your proprietary CD player. Am I right so far?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright, then. Here’s what I’ll do. I’m keeping my CD and copies, and you can go and f… yourself from here to kingdom come.”
“But, sir—” (You have already terminated the call.)