Music Changes. The Passion Doesn’t.

From Analogue Roots to the Future

A personal journey through the evolution of music production, from vinyl and hardware to digital tools and artificial intelligence — and the creative instinct that remains unchanged.

I started making music many years ago, when the world of music production was completely different from the one we know today.

Vinyl was still an integral part of music culture. CDs and cassette tapes were real, tangible formats.

In the studio, there were mixing consoles, hardware machines, synthesizers, drum machines, tape, instruments and musicians.

Every decision had a cost, and every recording required time, preparation and care.

I personally experienced the transition from that world to the digital one: from vinyl records to the first electronic instruments, from the Atari 1040ST to the first sequencers, from Emagic to Logic, and progressively to increasingly powerful and accessible systems.

What has changed is not only the way we make music.

The world around music has changed.

A Completely Different Market

For decades, music was also a physical product.

Records were manufactured, distributed and sold. There were vinyl records, CDs and cassettes.

There was a market in which a recording had a direct economic value, and where music production could support studios, musicians, engineers, composers and producers.

Today, that model no longer reflects the everyday reality of most independent producers.

Music is now primarily consumed through digital platforms.

Distribution has become much simpler, but at the same time, the economic value of each individual stream is extremely small.

For an independent artist, producing music therefore means facing a difficult question:

How do you continue creating music with the same level of care when the resources available to produce it are becoming increasingly limited?

The Studio Has Changed Too

Thirty years ago, twenty years ago, even ten years ago, a production could be built in a very different way.

You could walk into a studio with an arrangement, bring in musicians, record real instruments, try different solutions and spend many hours shaping a production.

Today, for many independent projects, carrying all those costs is simply not realistic.

That doesn’t mean musicians have become less important.

It means the way we use their skills is changing.

A musician can be brought in for a fundamental part of a production, to give a track its character, to record a real instrument, or to add that particular sense of expression that no technology can completely replace.

But not every single element of a production necessarily has to be recorded live.

And this is where technology comes in.

If a Tool Can Help, Why Not Use It?

This is the question I ask myself today.

If I can use a generated rhythm to build a foundation, why not use it?

If I can develop a small melodic idea, experiment with an arrangement, or use a virtual instrument to find a direction that would otherwise require hours in the studio, why not explore that possibility?

And if a technology can allow an independent composer to complete a production that, for financial reasons, they otherwise could not afford to make, why should it automatically be considered a threat?

For me, technology should not replace creativity.

It should amplify it.

That is the same philosophy I have followed throughout my musical life.

When sequencers arrived, they did not eliminate music.

When computers arrived, they did not eliminate musicians.

When software began replacing parts of the hardware environment, creativity did not disappear.

The possibilities available to the people creating music simply changed.

Artificial Intelligence Is Another Step

Today we are facing another transformation: artificial intelligence.

It is natural that it generates discussion, doubts and concerns.

The speed at which these tools are evolving is remarkable, and many questions about the future of music are still open.

But personally, I don’t believe it makes sense to reject a technology simply because it is new.

The question that interests me is a different one:

What can I do with this tool that I couldn’t do before?

If artificial intelligence allows me to explore an idea, find a texture, build a rhythm, experiment with a melodic direction or simply overcome a creative obstacle, then it can become part of my process.

That doesn’t mean allowing a machine to decide what my music should be.

It means using a new tool to reach something I want to express.

Technology Is Not the Author

For me, this distinction is fundamental.

A tool can generate a sound. It can suggest a progression. It can build a rhythm. It can help develop an idea.

But music production is not simply the sum of its sounds.

It is a choice.

It is knowing what to keep and what to remove.

It is understanding when a part works and when it needs to change.

It is building an atmosphere.

It is choosing a groove.

It is deciding when to leave space and when to add something.

And above all, it is having something to communicate.

Technology can offer possibilities.

The direction, however, has to come from the person creating the music.

Not Everything Has to Be Made the Same Way

I don’t believe the future of music should be a choice between “everything human” and “everything artificial.”

Instead, I believe there will be more and more room for hybrid productions.

A real piano can coexist with a synthesizer.

A drummer can coexist with a programmed rhythm.

A musician can record the most important part of a song while other elements are built digitally.

A composer can use artificial intelligence during the exploration stage and then completely transform the result through their own creative decisions.

Technology does not necessarily have to erase what came before.

It can become part of a new language.

From Analogue Roots to the Future

Perhaps this is the idea that has stayed with me throughout my journey.

I started with vinyl.

I experienced mixing consoles, the first electronic instruments, the Atari 1040ST, sequencers, Emagic, Logic and everything that came afterwards.

Every time, someone thought the new tool would completely change music.

In some ways, they were right.

But one thing has never changed.

The need to create emotion.

The sound can change.

The format can change.

The software can change.

The way we produce can change.

Even the market can change.

But when a song can still create an atmosphere, communicate an emotion or make someone move, then the reason we make music is still the same.

I’m not interested in using technology simply because it is new.

I’m interested in discovering what it can allow me to do that I couldn’t do before.

After all these years, that curiosity is still what guides the way I make music.

From vinyl and hardware to digital tools and AI — a personal perspective on how music production has changed, and why the emotion still matters.

Technology can offer possibilities. The direction, however, has to come from the person creating the music.

Decades of analogue roots meeting today’s tools, without losing the emotion..