You’ve been in my life for a long time now.
Through you, I’ve reconnected with the soundtrack of my youth — the songs I danced to, cried to, fell in love with, and screamed at the sky when no one was listening. I’ve travelled back in time with every track, every playlist a breadcrumb trail leading me home.
You’ve helped me build memories with people I’ve not seen in person for many years — friends on the other side of the world, trading tunes across borders and oceans. Music has always been one of the purest forms of human connection, and you made it easier than ever to share. For that, truly, thank you.
But something has changed.
Not in the algorithms or the interface, but in something much deeper — in what this relationship represents.
I’ve known for a while that the artists who make this magic — the lifeblood of your entire platform — are being paid crumbs. That’s been a bitter pill to swallow. Art, after all, should be valued. And those who create it should be able to survive, even thrive, on the beauty they offer the world. But for years, I looked the other way. I told myself this was just the cost of access, the price of convenience.
And now I see where that convenience has taken us.
Your CEO, Daniel Ek, has chosen to invest in weapons manufacturing. Not headphones. Not instruments. Not musical innovation. Weapons. Tools of death and destruction. Instruments of war.
That is not a neutral business decision. That is a moral one.
When the man profiting from my playlists is now helping to fund the machinery of war, we are no longer just talking about music. We’re talking about complicity.
You crossed a line. A bright red one. And I can’t unsee it.
So I’m out.
Not because I don’t love what you gave me. I do. But because love isn’t enough when it’s helping to bankroll suffering. I can’t justify staying just because it’s easier. I can’t use your service, knowing that my streams may contribute — however indirectly — to a future where more people die, more bombs fall, and more children grow up afraid of the sky.
I’ll find other ways to listen. I’ll support the artists directly. I’ll return to downloads, to Bandcamp, to physical records, to whatever it takes. Because music will always be a part of my life, but you don’t have to be.
It’s been real.
It’s been beautiful, even.
But it’s over.
FTS
