The bedroom producer next door has the same plugins you do.
Maybe better ones.
Her kicks thump just as hard as yours. Her synths shimmer with the same presets. The mastering chain? Identical.
And yet, she isn't you.
Because music stopped being about sound a long time ago.
Think about it: Why does a fan play the same Taylor Swift track on repeat when they could listen to thousands of similar-sounding songs? Why do they buy five vinyl variants of an album they've already memorized?
It's not the 320kbps they're after.
They're buying membership.
The real currency of music isn't sonic – it's social. People don't just want your beats; they want to belong to the world you've created. They're purchasing a temporary identity, a three-minute escape into the person they wish they were.
When someone streams your track, they aren't just hearing music. They're trying on your attitude. Your rebellion. Your vulnerability. Your story.
This explains why artists with technically "inferior" productions often outperform virtuosos. The fiction is more compelling than the frequency response.
Your Patreon isn't selling music; it's selling access. Your limited vinyl pressing isn't selling audio; it's selling proof of allegiance. Your Discord server isn't about sharing updates; it's about creating a velvet rope that separates the insiders from everyone else.
The smart artists understand this instinctively. They know their job isn't to make music. It's to create meaning.
So stop obsessing over which compressor sounds best. Instead, ask yourself: What club are you inviting people into? What identity are you offering? What story are you telling that no bedroom producer with cracked software can replicate?
Because that's the only thing that can't be democratized
.