Release songs under the name of the Mysterious Emily Portman and the Musician

Last month, award-winning singer Emily Portman received a message from fans, celebrating her new album, saying, “UK folk music is in good hands.”

That's usually a compliment, but the Sheffield-based artist was confused.

There she was taken to what appeared to be her latest release, following the links posted by fans. “But I didn't release any new albums, so I didn't realize it,” Portman says.

“I discovered albums by clicking on them online everywhere on Spotify and iTunes, all online platforms.

“It was called Orca, and it was clearly a generated music, but I think it was cleverly trained.”

The 10 tracks featured names such as Sprig of Thyme and Silent Hearth. These were “badly close” to the titles she might choose. It was Portman, who won the BBC Folk Award in 2013, found “really creepy.”

When she clicked and heard the voice – perhaps her voice was a little far apart, but she sang in “the folk style that is probably closest to mine that AI can produce,” she says. The instrumentation was also creepy.

Music generated by AI is spreading online, but is often released under fictional names or mimics a big star, but is usually not shown on the official streaming page.

But there is a tendency for artists who target (not superstars) to fake albums and songs that suddenly appear on the pages of Spotify and other streaming services. Even dead musicians produced “new” material added to the catalog.

Portman doesn't know who placed the album under her name or why. She was misrepresented as a performer, writer and copyright owner. The producer listed in the credits was Freddie Howells, but she said the name means nothing to her, and there is no trace of the producer or musician of that name.

As for the music itself, it was enough to convince some fans, but the lack of real human creative input sounded “empty and untouched,” she says.

“I can never fully adjust it, and that's not the point. I don't want to. I'm a human.”

A few days later, another album appeared on Portman's streaming page. This time, there was not much effort being made to emulate her. It was “20 tracks on instrumental drive,” she says. “Just AI slop.”

She filed a copyright complaint to remove the album, and says the episode doubled “the importance of true creativity and the belief in the way it moves people.”

“I hope AI music didn't do that for people,” she continues. “I got an email from someone who said, 'Where is Orca? It's been going on over and over.” So people are getting worse by it. ”

Anyone who posted an album online receives royalties, but the songs on Orca didn't have over 2,000 plays on Spotify, making revenue less than $6 (£4.40) per track.

According to Luminate, a music industry analysts say that around 99,000 songs are uploaded to streaming services daily, usually through dozens of distribution services, asking the uploader to submit artist details.

If that information is incorrect and the song is incorrectly listed under the name of an existing artist, it's up to them or their label to complain and remove it.

Portman says some platforms quickly removed ORCA from the platform, but Spotify took three weeks, but has yet to regain control of the Spotify artist's profile.

In a statement, Spotify said: “These albums were accidentally added to the wrong profiles of different artists with the same name and removed if flagged.”

Portman doubts that. Spotify has another singer with the same name, but the album doesn't sound like her and has not been added to her profile since then.

She says that the “disastrous” experience feels like a “pretty dystopian beginning” — and also highlights the artist's lack of legal protection measures.

She suspects independent artists are being targeted as star names have more protection and the power to quickly remove fraudulent releases.

Like New York-based musician, producer and songwriter Josh Kaufman, who performed on Taylor Swift's folk album, was warned by listeners to fake new material.

“We've just started receiving messages from fans and friends about the new music we just released and how much it has shifted. [stylistically]” he says.

“I think most people were just using my artist profile as a way to release obviously strange computer-generated music.”

In Kaufman's case, his identity was used to release a track called to Me of someone's love, which sounded like a “Casio keyboard demo with broken English lyrics.”

“It was embarrassing and then I'm just confused,” he adds. “this [music] Is that what we do? This is a signature of our soul and that someone else can walk there and get that access…”

He is one of many Americana and folk rock artists who have been posting fake tracks using their names in recent weeks. It's clearly all from the same source.

Others include Wilco frontman Jeff Toody, J. Tillman (now known as Father John Misty), Sam Beam (aka Iron & Wine), Teddy Thompson and Jacob Dylan.

All releases used the same style of AI artwork and were given three record labels. Many have listed the same name as songwriter Zyan Maliq Mahardika.

The name is also credited to other songs that mimic real American Christian musicians and metalcore bands.

Spotify said it had flagged issues with distributors and removed these trucks because it “violated policies against spoofing others or brands.”

“Removing distributors that allow this type of content on the platform repeatedly.”

Kaufman created a playlist of every track he could find and gave it a light rog-like name. “It's more fun to laugh than to feel sick,” he says. “But it's embarrassing that this could happen.”

And it was strange for him to be targeted as a musician and producer who generally go “under the radar.” “Why don't you go to someone big?” he asks. “If you're trying to accumulate some kind of royalty.”

If the royalties are gone, he doesn't know. “To be honest, I don't even know what the enemy is,” he says. “Is it a computer? Is it someone sitting somewhere developing this music to ruin someone?”

One thing is for sure, companies like Spotify want to be more proactive about preventing fraudulent music that appears on the platform.

Tatiana Cirisano of Media and Technology Analysis Company's Midia Research, says that AI is “eases for fraudsters and cheating listeners who are “passive” in the algorithmic era.”

She believes that the bad actors posing with real-life artists hope that their fraudulent tracks will “get enough streams.”

“I think AI Fake is targeting lesser-known artists in the hopes that their plans will fly under the radar compared to targeting superstars who can get Spotify right away on the line,” she points out.

But she emphasizes that streaming services and distributors are “working hard,” and finding them is getting better. Ironically, using AI and machine learning!

“I think it's clear to everyone that all stakeholders have to do their part,” she says. “But that's complicated.”

Last month, when a new song appeared on the verified artist page of US country singer Blaze Foley, it was a huge surprise for Craig McDonald, owner of Foley's record label, especially because Foley passed away in 1989.

As McDonald put it, “AI Schlock” was clearly not Foley's “Texas Singer-Songwriter from the Heart” style.

“Blaze had a talent for songwriting, but with that talent, complete credibility,” he says. “As they say, three chords and the truth. And this was clearly not.”

McDonald, who runs the Lost Art Record, is concerned that it could undermine the credibility of artists like Foley, especially for those who don't know their sound.

What did Foley make with all of this? “The pictures that accompanied it really made him slimmer, letting him go about 30 pounds away and giving him a modern haircut, so Blaze might have liked it,” laughs McDonald.

“But he'll also say, 'I want 10% of the pennies Spotify collects, I want them to send it my way.' ”

Emily Portman says the event felt like a “very low blow” given the streaming era already creating huge dents in the income of many artists.

In addition to tackling her faceless AI con man, she is currently recording her first (actual) solo album for 10 years – this takes time, money and deep personal creativity, unlike AI. She says it costs at least £10,000 to pay people who play, produce, release and promote it.

But as a result, she becomes enthusiastic and genuine and human.

“I'm really looking forward to bringing real music into the world!”