Grandpa Is Him
A general microcast about everything and nothing in everyday life. True short stories, family fun, some true crime, anything that I find interesting. In short, it is about everyday life, as lived by every day people, presented a fun and entertaining way.
Grandpa Is Him
Stream Dreams and Playlist Schemes: Inside Music's Digital Underground
The digital music industry is rife with fraud and manipulation, from AI-generated song scams to playlist payola, all at the expense of real artists who struggle to earn sustainable income from streaming.
• North Carolina man Michael Smith stole $10 million using AI to create fake songs and bots to stream them
• Spotify paid $10 billion in royalties last year, but only 4% of artists earn sustainable income
• Playlist placement is often pay-to-play, with curators charging up to $5,000 monthly
• Major labels own playlist networks that prioritize their own artists
• "Playlist-safe" music is designed for algorithms, not artistic expression
• Global streaming manipulation includes Indian "streaming cafes" and organized fan campaigns
• Matt Farley earned a living creating thousands of novelty songs about bodily functions
• Voice assistants like Alexa inadvertently drive streams for bizarre children's content
Follow Grandpa Is Him for more insights into the strange forces shaping our digital world. Email your music discovery stories to grandpaishimcom@gmail.com.
$10 million that's how much someone stole from the music industry. Not with guns or getaway cars, but with AI and a few lines of code. Welcome to Grandpa is Him. I am your host, len Dimmick. Today we unravel the digital heist and the wild stories shaping our world Today.
Speaker 1:Stream scam. I spent 83 hours listening to the chicks. Therapy would have been cheaper. Have you ever thought about making money just by pressing play? Well, I sure have. Well, someone did, and they took it to the extreme.
Speaker 1:Imagine waking up one morning checking your bank account and seeing an extra $10 million, not from a chart-topping hit or a world tour, but from a scheme involving AI-generated music and streaming platforms. This isn't a glitch. This is not a joke. This was an actual operation that lasted four months before it came crashing down. And the mastermind? A man named Michael Smith. Ladies and gentlemen, let's meet the mastermind.
Speaker 1:Let me introduce you to Michael Smith. No, not the Grammy-winning singer, but a guy from North Carolina who figured out how to game the music streaming system in a way that would make even the most creative con artists jealous. Smith is now in some serious hot legal water because, according to the FBI people you don't want to mess with he used artificial intelligence to create hundreds of thousands of fake songs, uploaded them to Spotify and then used an army of bots or coordinated streaming tactics to wrap up plays and rake in over $10 million in royalties. Yep, while real musicians were struggling to get their tracks noticed, smith's instant music empire was cashing in big time by now. You must be wondering how did this even work? Here's the breakdown Smith used AI to make a large amount of songs, each with unique titles and information, making them look real.
Speaker 1:He then used automated programs or bots, to play these songs repeatedly. Since Spotify counts a play after 30 seconds, these bots would play each track just long enough to register as a real stream. With many streams, royalty payments came in, taking funds from real artists and songwriters. And right, there was the key point Spotify only requires a song to be played for at least 30 seconds for it to count as a stream. That means Smith and his bots could upload thousands of one-minute tracks and repeatedly play just 31 seconds of each one, maximizing payouts without raising suspicion. This loophole made his scheme very efficient. Now, just to save you a little bit of time, I did the math If you're playing a 31 second song for 24 hours, you can get more than 2,800 plays. Imagine if you're doing that with several dozen bots.
Speaker 1:So how did the feds catch on? Well, eventually, streaming platforms started noticing something strange Billions of streams from accounts that didn't seem real and tied to one guy. Yeah, that's going to raise some questions. And it turns out that Smith was so deep into his scheme that he was emailing his partners you know, don't put it in writing if you don't want to get in trouble. He was saying things like we need a ton of songs fast to make this work around the anti-fraud policies. I mean, come on, that's basically an email confession with Dear FBI in the subject line. And here's the biggest surprise of all not Smith has been arrested and is now facing charges of wire fraud, money laundering and conspiracy. If convicted, he can be located at up to 60 years behind bars. Bye-bye, michael. This is Grandpa. Is Him?
Speaker 1:And now we're going to take a look at the bigger picture AI and the music industry. That was supposed to sound like there was a colon between AI and the music industry, but oh well, we'll keep going. But here's where it gets even more interesting. This isn't just a one-off case. The music industry has been dealing with AI-generated content and streaming fraud. For a while now, in fact, there's been a surge in fake albums and artists popping up on platforms like Spotify, all aiming to take royalties from genuine musicians. It's like the Wild West out there, really, with AI as the new outlaw, or certainly at least an accomplice. And speaking of Spotify, did you know that in 2024,? Last year, spotify paid out a record $10 billion in royalties to artists. That's a large amount, but here's the important detail Only about 4% of artists on the platform could expect to earn a sustainable income from their work. According to Spotify, I listened to one song 73 times. That's not a music habit. That's a cry for help.
Speaker 1:Spotify's payout model is not as simple as per stream. Instead, they use something called the stream share model, which means that revenue from subscriptions and ads goes into a pool. The artists are then paid based on their percentage of total streams, not individual play counts. Rights holders meaning labels, distributors and publishers take their cut before the artists see a dime. Yeah, there's a real shock for you. And Spotify keeps roughly two-thirds of every dollar made for music. That is lucrative and it's actually pretty obscene. But here's the reality check. Spotify reports that 100,000 artists made at least $6,000 last year Sounds decent. Right, I'd like to make $6,000. But when you factor in that there are over 12 million uploaders, that's less than 1% of the artists making even a minimum wage from streaming alone. For most musicians, streaming income is barely a side hustle, let alone a career. Spotify wrapped is basically if your therapist made a PowerPoint presentation and emailed it to your ex.
Speaker 1:Smith wasn't the only one playing the system. Recently, drake's team has accused Universal Music Group and Spotify of artificially inflating streams for Kendrick Lamar's diss track Not Like Us. It is alleged that bots and secret payments were used to push the track's numbers, rigging the system in favor of certain artists. Umg has obviously denied the allegations, but the situation raises major concerns. If industry giants are accused of playing dirty, what does that say about the fairness of the streaming economy? And let's not forget general streaming fraud, where bots artificially boost streaming numbers to make songs appear more popular than they really are. This practice can push certain tracks onto curated playlists and front page recommendations, taking revenue from genuine artists. Platforms like Spotify and Apple Music are constantly fighting these schemes, but, as we've seen, the fraudsters are always one step ahead. Some experts suggest a fan-powered meaning listeners user-centric model where listener subscriptions go directly to the artists they actually play rather than being pooled and divided among top streamers. That could give independent and niche artists a fair shot at earning sustainable income. Now, if they can do anything to keep from having to listen to Baby Shark or Poop Poop Poop Butt Song whenever my grandkids come over, I'm all for it.
Speaker 1:So what's the takeaway from all of this? First, don't commit fraud. Come on, people. That's a blaring glimpse of the obvious. Second, this is just the beginning of AI in the music world. If one guy with a laptop can create a hit factory of nonsense songs, what's stopping bigger companies from doing the same thing on a larger, more legit scale? Are we entering an era where AI isn't just making music but also scamming its way up the charts? And how do real artists compete when a guy with bots can make more money in a year than they might in a lifetime? We need to remember that behind those stream numbers are real people, artists, who put their whole lives into creating music. These scams steal money and can also steal dreams. Let's move on to something a little bit lighter about Spotify.
Speaker 1:Spotify's in-house data team combed through anonymized user data to find some of the most questionable playlists and listing trends of the year. They then splashed these gems onto billboards across the US, UK and other countries for all to see. Some hilarious examples included the Jeb Bush playlist. The ad said Dear person who made a playlist called One Night Stand with Jeb Bush, like he's a Bond girl in a European casino. We have so many questions. Next, one Guys Night. In To the 1,235 guys who loved the Girls Night playlist this year. We love you. Spotify was simply showing appreciation to the dudes rocking out to a playlist made for Girls Night. But wait, it gets more specific and somehow more embarrassing. Then there's one of my favorites the Brexit Blues. The ad said dear, said, dear. 3749 people who streamed. It's the end of the world as we know it the day after the brexit vote. Hang in there. I guess this was a musical coping mechanism for political turmoil. And then we have a heartbeat repeat Dear person who played sorry 42 times on Valentine's Day. What did you do? I gotta find out. You can only imagine what prompted that marathon of apology songs.
Speaker 1:Spotify decided to reflect culture via listener behavior and, importantly, spotify kept the messages anonymous but personal. Each billboard felt like a lighthearted public inside joke, with Spotify nudging the person in question and winking at the rest of us who can't help but be curious. The tagline thanks 2016,. It's been weird. That summed up the year perfectly. And wouldn't it be kind of fun to drive down the street and say, hey, they're talking about me and none of your friends are going to believe you, especially if you're the one that started liking the Girls' Night playlist.
Speaker 1:All right, folks, we're wrapping up this segment on Spotify and the music fraud with Michael Smith, but don't go anywhere. In just a moment, we're going to start talking about the playlist mafia. That transition music is a little bit out of character for me, but it goes along well with the segment. When we're going to be talking about playlists, let's talk about one of the biggest behind-the-scenes power plays in modern music playlists. Yep, those curated bundles of vibes that guide everything from your workouts to your crying-in-the-car moments. They look innocent, they sound innocent, but playlists have quietly become one of the most influential forces in the music industry. Some even say they've replaced the radio DJ and, as it turns out, there's a whole business before getting your song on them.
Speaker 1:You ever wonder how a brand new song from an artist you've never heard of ends up smack in the middle of your chill hits playlist or how your Discover Weekly seems to know what you want. Before you do Well, let's peel back the curtain. Let's start with the pay-to-play side of things. Ever heard of Spotlister? Well, back in 2018, it let artists pay and I use the word let lightly. It let artists pay up to $5,000 per month to get tracks placed on certain curated playlists. You weren't just submitting your music, you were buying ad space disguised as discovery. It got big. Then it got busted because technically, spotify doesn't allow paid placements.
Speaker 1:But that hasn't stopped the hustle. Reddit threads from independent musicians show messages from curators asking for $50, $300, even bulk discounts to get songs in rotation. And yeah, some even sent invoices. That's pretty brazen man. Back in my day, if you wanted to get on the radio, you had to bribe the DJ with a donut. Now it's PayPal and a promo code. Even the labels got in the game. Sony owns Filter, warner's got Topsify and Universal's running Digster, and they stack those lists with their own artists. It's the modern version of getting the best booth in the restaurant because you own the restaurant. And don't even get me started on Spotify's discovery mode. It boosts your track's algorithm visibility in exchange for lower royalties. In other words, if you accept less, you rise in the rankings. It's like getting a billboard on the freeway, but only if you agree to be paid in monopoly money.
Speaker 1:Now, not every paid playlist is a scam. Some curators do carefully vet their lists and, for indie artists, paying for exposure might be the only way to break through. But here's the kicker, and as a consumer, you need to be aware of this. None of this is labeled clearly. You don't know which tracks were paid for. There's no sponsored content tag, which means you, dear listener, might be vibing to someone's marketing budget, not their music. And hey, if you want to drop me a note, I want to know have you ever found a song you loved on a playlist or skipped five times in a row because they all sounded like AI lullabies? Tell me about it. I'd like to know what you're experiencing out there. Okay, now we need to talk about playlist-safe music.
Speaker 1:Producers now write songs tailored to the algorithm Short intros, no abrupt changes, one mood, songs designed to blend in and not stand out. Think about that the next time you're listening to your playlist and see if you can identify some of these. It's why so many tracks in lo-fi, chill-pop or ambient genres sound well the same. They're optimized to fill time. Not to blow your mind, I once listened to a whole playlist on a road trip and didn't realize the song changed for 45 minutes. That's the tie-in to the transition music I played earlier, because that song has the kind of sound that just never changes. Imagine a playlist designed and built for that purpose.
Speaker 1:And then there's the legend of the fake artist Names like Deep Watch, nore, evolve Music, used on big mood playlists but with no traceable online identity. Some say Spotify commissions tracks to save on royalties. Spotify says otherwise. They wouldn't really do that, would they? But real or fake? The strategy's clear Fill playlists with cheap-to-license or platform-owned tracks and keep those payouts low. If Deep Watch is real, I want to see him at the Grammys wearing a hoodie and a Spotify lanyard. That's not going to happen, I know, but here's the deal.
Speaker 1:Playlists can launch careers, but they're also battlegrounds of marketing manipulation and sometimes straight-up shenanigans. Support the artists you love, buy a shirt, go to a concert, stream their music intentionally and, hey, maybe skip that playlist called Tuesday Flow Vibe, volume 71. Just saying what's the best artist you found by accident, not through an algorithm, but a friend, a show or your neighbor's mixtape. I want to hear about it. I want to hear about it. So far we've covered scams, schemes and playlists padded with tracks that sound like well, digital oatmeal. But what if I told you? The weirdest streaming stories aren't coming from California or New York, they're global.
Speaker 1:Let's take a journey, not through the playlist, but across borders, oceans and time zones, because when it comes to streaming shenanigans, the whole world has a story to tell. We'll begin in India, where music is life and streaming cafes are a thing. These aren't cafes like Starbucks. They're small setups where people, often hired, log into various streaming accounts and play songs or loop all day long. The idea Juice the stream count. More plays equal more visibility. More visibility equals more real fans. It's music farming, except instead of crops, you're harvesting playlists. Shades of World of Warcraft in China. I love the idea of a guy named Raj sipping chai tea and racking up 10,000 plays of lo-fi frog beats.
Speaker 1:Next stop on our trip Russia, home to bears borscht and allegedly money laundering through Spotify. No joke, here's how it works. Someone uploads basic instrumental tracks, sets up fake accounts, uses stolen credit cards to stream them 24-7. Boom, those fake royalties get paid out. That's how you clean dirty money with dirty beats. Authorities have investigated similar tactics used for click fraud and digital ad revenue. So, yeah, it's Ocean's Eleven, but make it ambient jazz.
Speaker 1:Let's cross the ocean once more, this time to Brazil, and I mean this with love. Brazilian fans do not mess around. They are the most organized, spreadsheet-armed streaming ninjas in the world. When a new track drops from a beloved artist, say BTS or Anitta, these fans plan mass stream campaigns, thousands of them with schedules, with rules, no skipping. Use a VPN if you're abroad. They even switch devices so plays count more. These folks are more coordinated than my last three family reunions combined. In some cases, fans have pooled money to pay for boosted ads or helped artists trend globally by storming streaming charts. It's crowd-powered promotion and it works.
Speaker 1:Let's pivot to k-pop, where globalization and strategy go hand in hand. K-pop labels don't just launch a song, they launch a streaming war. They teach fans how to stream properly to avoid disqualification, they give timing strategies to spike songs in the charts and they use international rollout like military ops. It's no accident that K-pop dominates global Spotify charts. It's designed, marketed and measured, and it has inspired artists across genres to adopt similar tactics. Streaming also looks differently around the globe. In China, apps like Tencent Music dominate. In the Middle East, angami Africa, boomplay and Mdando. Each has different rules, royalty models and regional gatekeepers. Some don't even rely on ads, just tips, sms billing or sponsor-funded streams, which means your streaming strategy in LA doesn't always translate in Lagos or Lahore.
Speaker 1:Now, is all of this a problem? Well, not necessarily. Not always. Some of it is fans showing support, some of it is smart marketing, but when it becomes stream farms, laundering or manipulation, yeah, we've got a problem. The bigger question do these tactics help artists get discovered or bury them in the algorithm mess? Something for you to consider. When was the last time you discovered a new artist? Was it from a playlist, tiktok or your cousin's wedding DJ? Streaming isn't just a digital jukebox anymore. It's a global game of chess and some countries are playing it. Five moves ahead. Next time you hit play, remember. Someone somewhere might be in a cafe on a VPN helping that track hit the top.
Speaker 1:For this final segment, I want to talk about the strange algorithms behind viral kids music, and I'm going to start off, and I know I'm going to regret this, but Alexa, play something educational and enriching Now playing the poop song by the Toilet Bowl Cleaners. Yep, that actually happened. Welcome to the weird, wonderful world of children's music in 2025, where smart speakers are DJs and poop jokes are platinum hits. In this segment of Grandpa Is Him.
Speaker 1:We're diving into the strange algorithms behind viral kids' music, from poop songs to AI remixes, to a man who made a living writing thousands of songs about bodily functions. Let's start with a name you've probably never heard of. I know I haven't, but your kids definitely have Matt Farley. Matt's a Massachusetts-based music machine. He's written and recorded over 26,000 songs under names like the Toilet Bowl Cleaners and the Odd man who Sings About Poop Puke and Pee bowl cleaners and the odd man who sings about poop puke and pee. This all started in college when Matt realized a joke song he made earned more royalties than his real music, so he leaned into it. He writes songs based on search terms, anything people might randomly type or say to Alexa Poop song I farted at school. Happy Birthday, kelly. There's a song for everything.
Speaker 1:Matt doesn't use AI, he uses strategy. He floods Spotify, Amazon and Apple Music with weird, funny and super specific content and he makes a living doing it Now playing Diarrhea Song for Toddlers by the Poop Rangers. He's been featured on NPR, shouted out by Billie Eilish and discussed in parenting forums worldwide, but he still records in his home studio, cranking out dozens of tracks a day. If I had a nickel every time my grandkid asked for a poop song, well, I'd probably still be broke. But Matt Farley, he's buying lunch.
Speaker 1:Now how does this stuff get so popular? It's not just the songs, it's the tech Voice assistants like Alexa and Google Home. I'm really afraid to say those words, because you never know who's going to start speaking in the background. These devices have become accidental enablers of toddler comedy. Kids love testing boundaries. They say poop. The device responds with a song. It's digital call and response and every stream pays the artist.
Speaker 1:There are entire Reddit threads of parents sharing how their kids have discovered endless musical chaos just by shouting at the kitchen echo. I know in one instance my three-year-old grandson tried to get a poop song to play and the next thing I know, I had an order for headphones in the shopping cart of my Amazon account. A true story. And because kids love repetition, once they hear it, they play it again and again and again. You try explaining to a four-year-old why they can't listen to the diarrhea anthem 10 more times. But this goes deeper.
Speaker 1:Poop songs aren't the only weird hits out there. There's a growing list of creators some human, some AI-assisted going viral, off niche, goofy and bizarrely catchy tunes. Remember Sharkbait? It wasn't an accident. The song was engineered for maximum stickiness, same with it's Corn and the endless parade of auto-tuned animal videos on YouTube.
Speaker 1:Kids Streaming platforms reward whatever keeps people listening. Doesn't matter if it's Mozart or a monkey singing an auto-tune. If it gets clicks, it gets pushed. Even AI is stepping into the game. Some creators now use tools like Boomi to pump out hundreds of goofy tracks each week with minimal effort. If robots take over the world, they're starting with the preschool playlist.
Speaker 1:So what have we learned today? Poop is powerful, kids are algorithm whisperers and Matt Farley might just be the hardest working man in streaming. This whole thing might seem silly, but it's also a masterclass on how tech shapes our culture, even the stuff we wish it didn't. So next time your kids tell Alexa to play a poop song, just smile. Somewhere out there, matt Farley is nodding, laughing and writing another one. What's the weirdest song your kid or your smart speaker has ever played? The weirdest song your kid or your smart speaker has ever played. Hit me up, let me know. And yes, poop songs totally count.
Speaker 1:And that's it for this episode of Grandpa's Hymn. We peeled back the curtain on playlists, pay-to-play, trickery algorithmic sameness and the mysterious deep watch who may or may not be streaming from inside a Spotify server. Remember, behind every lo-fi beat and chill track is either an artist trying to break through or a data scientist with a playlist to fill. If you enjoyed this podcast and I think you did, tap that follow button, tell a friend or, better yet, send me your favorite real discovery at grandpaishimcom at gmailcom. Please, no bots allowed. I'm Lynn and I'll be back next week, probably with fewer robots and more real stories. Until then, keep your earbuds clean, your playlists honest and your shuffle button sacred. See you next time.
