NAMM 2026: What the Music Industry Got Wrong About You

I just spent three days listening to the industry argue about AI music. Here's what they said, what they missed, and why creators using tools like Suno are better positioned than they think.

TL;DR

• The Wrong War: NAMM is fighting "prompt-and-ship" spam, not serious creators.

• The Leverage: Copyright law favors human authorship—your process is your protection.

• The Filter: Platforms will clamp down on fraud, not on craft.

• The Shift: Transparency is coming—use it as a trust signal, not a threat.

• The Reality: The opportunity is wide open for creators who treat this as a skill.

I walked into the Anaheim Convention Center expecting the usual ritual: guitars, drum kits, and the "gear porn" that defines NAMM. And it was there—the massive booths, the vintage Fenders, the YouTubers filming "first looks" at new synthesizers.

But as I moved through the sessions and panels, something became crystal clear.

The most real estate at NAMM 2026 wasn't on the convention floor. It was the space AI music generation is occupying—rent-free—in the industry's collective head.

I sat through a dozen sessions. Legal panels. Tech demos. Investor roundtables. Keynotes from industry veterans. Everywhere I went, the same tension played out: an industry trying to decide if AI is an existential threat or the next evolution of music creation.

If you create music with Suno, Mureka, Udio, or similar tools, you need to understand what's being said about you—and why most of it misses the point entirely.

What the Industry is Saying About AI Music Creators

The anti-AI argument has crystallized into a surprisingly coherent narrative. Here is their case:

"AI music is junk food for the brain." Craig Anderton's keynote described AI-generated music as a "Big Mac"—it fills you up, but it's empty calories. No human connection. No soul.

"AI doesn't create—it imitates." The distinction being drawn: humans are influenced by life, memory, and experience. AI is influenced by statistics. One panelist asked, "Could AI have invented Reggae?" The room's answer: No. AI can only remix what exists. It cannot originate culture.

"Consumers feel conned." Panelists cited survey data suggesting most listeners can't reliably distinguish AI from human music in blind tests—but they overwhelmingly prefer the human version once the origin is disclosed. Roughly 80% of consumers want AI music labeled, and over half don't think it belongs on the main charts alongside human-created work.

"You're flooding the market and diluting royalties." Spotify uploads have jumped from 30,000 to 120,000 tracks per day—heading toward 500,000. The royalty pool is fixed. More tracks mean smaller slices for everyone.

The Two Lanes: What the Industry is Actually Fighting

Here is what became clear as I listened: the industry isn't fighting one enemy. They are fighting two—and they are conflating them.

Lane 1: Fraud and Spam

This is the real threat platforms are responding to. Fake artists. Impersonation. Volume flooding designed to game royalty pools. Spotify says it removed 75 million+ spammy tracks over the past 12 months as generative tools made large-scale fraud easier.

This lane deserves to be shut down. Platforms are right to clamp down on it.

Lane 2: Human-Authored, AI-Assisted Production

This is what serious creators are actually doing. Writing lyrics. Developing concepts. Directing generation. Curating ruthlessly. Treating AI as an instrument, not an autopilot.

The problem? Most of NAMM's panels treated these two lanes as one. The arguments against Lane 1 were applied to Lane 2—and that is where the industry got it wrong.

Where They Missed the Mark

Sitting in those rooms, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching an industry argue against a caricature—not against what serious AI music creators actually do.

1. They are arguing against "prompt and ship." The image in their heads: someone types "make me a country song about trucks" and uploads whatever comes out. Zero effort. Zero craft. Zero humanity.

And yes—that exists. That is Lane 1. But that is not what you are doing if you treat this seriously. That is not what we teach at JG BeatsLab.

2. They don't understand "Human in the Loop." Here is what the industry doesn't see: the creator who writes their own lyrics, crafts their own concepts, generates dozens of variations, curates ruthlessly, and treats AI as an instrument.

The difference between "prompt and ship" and "generative production" is the difference between taking a photo with your phone and being a photographer. The tool doesn't define the craft. The human does.

3. Their incentives shape their arguments. A lot of the room's incentives are tied to legacy scarcity. So the loudest arguments naturally tilt toward preserving old economics—even when they are framed as moral clarity.

The royalty pool concern is real. But framing it as "protecting artists" obscures the reality: much of this is about protecting existing artists from new competition. That's not ethics. That's market protection.

The Legal Reality: Better Than You Think

The legal panels were actually encouraging—if you understand the rules.

The Copyright Baseline: Fully AI-generated music (prompt in, song out, no human involvement) is not copyrightable. The Copyright Office is clear: no human authorship, no protection.

The legal foundation goes back to the famous "Monkey Selfie" case (Naruto v. Slater). The court ruled that a non-human lacks standing under copyright law. If a monkey can't own a photo, an AI can't own a song.

But you aren't a monkey. You're a human using a tool.

The Standard That Matters: If you write the lyrics, craft the concept, direct the generation, curate the output, and make meaningful creative decisions—you are the author. AI becomes your tool, not your replacement.

This is exactly what we teach. The "Human in the Loop" isn't just an ethical position. It is a legal strategy.

The industry is moving toward licensing, not endless litigation. The landscape is still evolving, but the direction is clear: licensing and settlement frameworks are replacing courtroom trench warfare. Suno and Udio have settled with major labels. Warner Music and Udio announced a joint platform. The "sue everyone" phase is giving way to "figure out how to monetize this."

Transparency is coming. California's AI Transparency Act (AB 853) is creating disclosure frameworks. Expect a patchwork of state laws before any federal action. This isn't something to fear—it is something to get ahead of.

What This Means for You

If you are creating music with AI tools and treating it seriously—writing lyrics, developing concepts, curating output, building a catalog—you are not the problem the industry is fighting. You are in Lane 2. You are the future they haven't figured out how to categorize yet.

Here is how to position yourself:

1. Own Your Process The industry's critique centers on the idea that AI creators have no process—just prompts. Prove them wrong. Document your workflow. Show your drafts. Talk about the 50 generations you rejected before finding the one that worked. Your process is your proof of authorship, both legally and culturally.

2. Anchor Your Copyright Write your lyrics first. Develop your concepts before you generate. Make creative decisions at every stage—song structure, style direction, curation, arrangement. The more human decision-making in the chain, the stronger your ownership claim.

3. Quality Over Quantity The spam flooding Spotify is Lane 1's problem, not yours. Platforms are already cracking down. The bar is rising. This is good news for serious creators. When the noise gets filtered out, quality stands out more. Invest in craft, not volume.

4. Embrace Transparency 80% of consumers reportedly want AI involvement labeled. Don't fight this—lead it. Be upfront about your process. "Written by [You], produced with AI assistance" is a position of strength, not weakness. It signals that a human is driving—which is exactly what listeners say they want.

5. Develop Your Signature The industry's strongest argument is that AI music lacks a "fingerprint"—a unique sonic identity. This is solvable with intention. Develop consistent themes in your lyrics. Cultivate a recognizable style direction. Build a catalog that feels like you, not like "generic AI output." This is the difference between using AI as a slot machine and using it as an instrument.

The Opportunity Nobody's Talking About

Here is what struck me most about NAMM 2026:

The industry is so focused on fighting AI that they are ignoring who is actually winning.

It isn't the platforms. It isn't the labels. It is the creators who adapted early. While legacy artists debate whether to "take a stand," a new generation of creators in Lane 2 is:

• Building catalogs at unprecedented speed.

• Learning the craft of generative production.

• Establishing audiences who care about results and honesty more than production ideology.

• Getting placed in playlists, sync libraries, and content platforms.

The gatekeepers are busy building walls. The smart creators are walking through the open doors.

The JG BeatsLab Position

Everything we teach comes back to one principle: Human in the Loop.

We don't teach people to pound out prompts and flood Spotify. We teach people to become artists who happen to use AI as their instrument.

That means:

• Writing your own lyrics.

• Developing your own concepts.

• Understanding the tools deeply enough to direct them intentionally.

• Curating ruthlessly.

• Building a catalog with a coherent artistic identity.

• Registering your work properly.

• Treating this as a craft, not a shortcut.

The industry is right that Lane 1 is a problem. But they are wrong to lump all AI music creation into that lane. The creators who approach this seriously—who put in the work to develop real skill—are building something durable. Something that the industry will eventually have to acknowledge.

The Bottom Line

NAMM 2026 showed me an industry at war with a caricature. They are fighting against the laziest version of AI music creation while ignoring the serious creators who are doing this right.

If you are one of those serious creators—if you care about craft, quality, and building something real—you are better positioned than the industry wants to admit.

The rules are clear. The tools are powerful. The opportunity is open.

The question isn't whether AI music has a future. It does. The question is whether you will be the one creating it.

I'm Josh Gilliland, founder of JG BeatsLab. We publish books, research, and tools for creators who want to master AI music production—with human creativity at the center. If you want a workflow that's legally defensible, artistically coherent, and built for the long game, check out the AI Music Library.