There's an article in this week's New World (née New European)* by Olive Pometsey, called Sweet, soulless music: the rise of AI pop. It confirms my impression that AI ought to be called AM: Artificial Mediocrity. "OK, lads, let's purée everything that's been in the charts this year, strain out the lumps, and put out the bilge. Give it a year or two, and nobody will be able to tell the difference." Hopefully, in two years' time, there'll be a revolution.

There's been a fight on between artists and record companies since at least the 1950s: true musicians want to make music, while the companies' top priority is to make money. The result in the charts is best called "punctuated equilibrium". This was documented by George Melly in Revolt into Style: The Pop Arts in Britain (1970); the bilge of the early 1960s in the UK was music-hall jokiness and bedroom angst. I was there, and it was *dire*, with the occasional good nugget which had escaped through the filter.

* Apologies for lack of link: it's behind a paywall. We buy the hardcopy edition.