IT SOUNDS LIKE STREAMING, ANYWAY: Rightsholders continue to voice their objections to the onslaught of non-musical tracks—"rain falling on roof" and so on—crowding the DSPs, and digital distro players like Denis Ladegaillerie-led French firm Believe Music, which owns Tunecore, and DistroKid are taking the heat for said flood of “noise.” But tracks geared for sleep, meditation and so on (from babbling brooks to vacuum-cleaner sounds) such as these now represent a significant piece of said distributors’ revenue, and they are understandably ambivalent about limiting it. How will the would-be reformers of the streaming landscape navigate this impasse?

Tunecore played a major role in establishing the streaming economy we now enjoy, helping fuel the plenitude of offerings at major DSPs. Since then its role has changed and it has become, in many bizniks’ minds, part of the problem, because it furnishes so much of the clutter that chokes the pipe and crowds the royalty pool—which enables bad actors like stream farms to alter the paradigm with fake data.

Believe thus sits on the opposite side of this debate from the music labels that have been its most steadfast partners, such as leading European company [PIAS]. Both of these firms, it must be underscored, are major players in Europe. The latter’s chief exec, Kenny Gates, supports leading Euro-DSP Deezer’s campaign (with massive buy-in from UMG and others) to adjust the current economic model for streaming to favor “active listening” so random noise tracks aren’t rewarded on an equal tier with the best the music world has to offer. Top European indie leaders like Beggars boss Martin Mills seem to be on board with the new plan, which is said to have an exceptionally low threshold for rewarding real music acts at a higher rate. But IMPALA, ever the contrarian, has expressed skepticism.

TROPHY AND ATROPHY: What happens to the Grammys when the $70m-per-year CBS deal is up in 2026? How will Music’s Biggest Night navigate the streaming-TV landscape? The Academy has made clear it wants to make Grammy a global brand—which is a great idea, but more than a few Grammy insiders question the current leadership’s ability to execute it.

Further Grammy questions circulate around the Nashville chapter as its selection committees meet. The self-dealing and patronage that have dominated that demimonde show no sign of abating, and its old-school Music Row affiliations are on a collision course with the radical shift in country’s center of gravity.

Troubadours like Morgan Wallen, Zach Bryan, Jelly Roll and Bailey Zimmerman, who are driving the genre in a new direction, are far removed from the insiders of the Grammy chamber. Bryan has evinced utter disinterest in the dog-and-pony show expected of Nashville artists, while Wallen is subject to old grudges. The disgraceful treatment of Luke Combs, Maren Morris and Kacey Musgraves, to name a few important artists who were screwed over by the committee in the past few years, has seriously dampened some acts’ enthusiasm about engaging with the Grammys. Can the chapter get on the right track, or have they already missed the train?